He doesn’t speak at first. Just studies me as we fall into step, like he’s cataloging every breath I take.
“You look…” He pauses, then finishes softly. “Unexpected.”
My brow arches. “That’s not quite a compliment.”
“It is,” he says. “From me.”
I snort. “Right. From the man that has played the disappearing act since you took that book forsafe keeping.”
That earns the faintest flash of teeth. “I’ve been watching.”
My breath catches, and my eyes snap back to his. I shouldn’t be surprised—he always seems to be there, stepping out of the shadows like they obey him. I’m almost certain they do.
“I’m more useful in the dark,” he says with a slight edge. “And you’ve been…occupied. Training with Raiden. Research with Nolan. Preparing for tonight.”
There’s no accusation in his tone. Not exactly. But there is a thread of something beneath them.
“Sounds like someone’s been keeping tabs.” I tilt my chin up, refusing to be the first to look away. “Should I be flattered or worried?”
His mouth curves—flashing his fangs again. “Maybe both.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t quite steady my heartbeat. Not with his hand warm at my waist and his scent wrapped around me like smoke and something darker.
“You like the dress?” I ask, letting the words fall carefully, casually. Like I haven’t been thinking about it since the moment I saw the box on my bed, and I just knew who sent it.
His gaze drops, just slightly, lingering where the shadows and silk cling to my skin. “It suits you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No,” he agrees, eyes meeting mine again. “It’s not.”
I narrow my eyes, the spin of the dance tightening between us. “You’re not very good at this whole communication thing, are you?”
“I speak when it matters.”
“And what, this doesn’t?” I challenge. “Dropping mystery dresses on girls' beds, vanishing for days, and then showing up like you never played the disappearing act?”
A flicker—barely there—crosses his expression. Almost amusement. Almost guilt.
“You looked like you needed something to remind you of what you are.”
I blink, thrown by the softness in his voice. “And what’s that, exactly?”
He doesn’t answer right away. His fingers shift slightly at my waist, a breath of pressure that’s barely a touch.
“Not what they think you are,” he says at last. “Not what you were told. Not human.”
His words settle over me, and I push them away. I don’t want to face that right now.
“So you’re not denying it,” I say quietly. “You got me the dress.”
Kael’s mouth twitches again. “Would it matter if I did?”
“Maybe. Because then I'd have to wonder what you want from me.”
That earns a full beat of silence. The music fades behind us, or maybe it just dulls under the weight of whatever this is.
He holds my gaze for a beat longer than is strictly polite. Than is safe.
