AMARA
Pain.
That’s the first thing I register as I wake the next day. A dull throb behind my eyes. Sharp. Relentless.
My mouth is all sand and regret. My limbs weighed down like someone carved me into the mattress.
I groan, burying my face into the pillow.
Which . . . smells different.
Not like the rough linen of my usual bedding. But like leather. And smoke.
And him.
My breath catches. Slowly, too slowly, I pry my eyes open.
Light slips through the narrow window, casting the room in soft gold. And there—sitting in the chair beside the bed, arms crossed over his chest, face impassive—is Thane.
I’m in his quarters.
I breathe in slowly. Then it hits.
The night before. The tavern. The bond. The way he—
No.
I shove it all down. My skull is splitting open and I amnotdoing this right now. So I do the only thing I can.
I glare at him.
He doesn’t move. Just looks at me. Calm. Steady. Completely unbothered.
“You look like hell,” he says.
I make a noise that’s supposed to be a scoff but comes out as a croak. “And you look like you haven’t moved all night.”
He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t shift or look away—he just stares back. A muscle in my chest I didn’t know was clenched, pulls tighter.
I swallow hard and push myself upright—only for the world to tilt.
“Ugh. Nope. Bad idea.”
Thane sighs, leaning forward to pour water from the pitcher on the table. He hands me the cup without a word. I take it reluctantly.
The quiet between us stretches, thick and heavy.
I sip the water, my throat dry. I let the water roll on my tongue, stalling like it might wash away the question forming in my head. My mind is a haze of fragments from the night before—the tavern, Lyra’s teasing, my friends laughing, a mug shattering, Thane’s arms around me. The bond, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
And gods, what the hell did I say? My grip tightens around the cup.
Thane rubs a hand over his jaw, eyes still on me. “You don’t remember, do you?”
Panic flickers quick and low in my gut.
“ . . . Depends. What am I supposed to remember?”
He gives me that look—the one that makes it hard to breathe.
