My pulse kicks up.
There’s a look in his eyes—sharp, focused,possessive.
Suddenly the space between Kieran and me feels too close. Too obvious. Too charged.
Gods, he’s beautiful when he storms like this.
Kieran sees it too. Of course he does. He grins—big, unbothered, entertained.
Then he leans in. “He’s fast. I’ll give him that.”
I shoot him a glare. “Don’t start.”
Kieran chuckles, backing up just as Thane arrives. He throws me a look—smug, lazy, entirely too entertained.
“But just so you know,” he says, eyes dancing, “until it’s a done deal, I’m not going anywhere.”
He pauses, letting that sink in. Then adds, with a slow grin, “Don’t go falling off a cliff without me, Thalor.”
I roll my eyes. “No promises.” But I’m grinning.
And then he’s gone—striding off like he owns the wind, leaving me alone with Thane. And the simmering heat of . . . whatever the hellthatwas.
Thane doesn’t say anything at first. He watches Kieran go, then drops down beside me like he’s always belonged there.
I raise a brow. “Something you need?”
Thane sprawls out beside me—legs stretched long, arms thrown over the back of the log, fingers grazing the grass like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Toocasual.
And it makes something in me twitch.
“No.”
I snort.
Liar.
The midday sun filters through the oak branches, dappling the ground in shifting patches of gold. A breeze stirs the leaves, brushing the strands of hair that have slipped free from my braid.
The silence between us hums—thick and charged. I shift, uneasy in a way that has nothing to do with discomfort.
I lean back, mirroring him, legs stretched out, arms folded loose across my chest. My body aches from training, but my mind is still buzzing—sharp and alive.
“You sure?” I ask, eyeing him. “Because you came over here like you had a mission.”
Thane glances at me, expression infuriatingly calm. “Looked like you needed saving.”
I bark a laugh. “Saving?From what? A friendlyconversation?”
He shrugs. Doesn’t answer. The space between us shifts again—simmering, charged.
I narrow my eyes slightly. “You’re in a good mood.”
He exhales, tilting his head. “Am I?”
The way he says it—too smooth, too at ease.
