Zara sat up straighter, chin tilting. “I shouldn’t have to remind you,” she said pointedly, “that I’m not a girl. I’m twenty-one. A woman.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said, scowling. “I meant—young. Reckless. You shouldn’t tease men like that.”
She scoffed. “I wasn’t teasing. I was making a joke.”
“That wasn’t a joke,” he muttered.
“How would you even know? You barely know me.”
“I know enough to tell when someone’s being inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” she echoed, incredulous. “For what, talking? Existing? Having a sense of humor?”
“You were being suggestive.”
“I was being sarcastic!”
They stared each other down across the small table, the air between them charged—annoyance tangled with something else neither admitted aloud.
“Unbelievable,” she huffed, crossing her arms.
“Drekhar,” Hektor muttered.
“What did you say?” she snapped, eyes narrowing.
“Drekhar,” he repeated, slower this time. “It’s…a Drakkonic curse. Mild. More like saying ‘for the gods’ sake’ than anything serious.”
“Well,” Zara huffed, “Ishould be the one saying that toyou.”
His mouth twitched, barely a smile, but for Hektor, it was practically a grin. She was annoyed, flustered, bristling at him. And he found it…weirdly entertaining.
She crossed her arms. “Tell me the truth. What’s therealreason you joined this team? You don’t just…leave your home for something simple. So what is it? Why are you really here?”
He leaned back, studying this small human with a sharp tongue and a talent for getting under his skin.
“Why did you leave yours?” he countered.
Her lips pressed together. He could see it hit her, unexpected, maybe a little too close. But he didn’t look away.
“People don’t leave home without a good reason, Zara,” he added quietly. “Not humans. Not geryons. Not Drakkons. So if you ask me that question…you should be ready to answer it yourself.”
Her breath caught, and suddenly the air between them felt different, charged with something no drink could cause.
“You already know my reason. Once Cyncus’s power is released, I might get my wings. It’s really that simple.”
Hektor set his glass down, the amber liquid catching the dim light of the bar. He leaned back slightly, careful not to show how much her words had unsettled him. Her finger traced the rim of her glass, slow and deliberate, and he could feel the pull of her power probing for cracks, for anything he wasn’t shielding.
Zara’s gaze was sharp, inquisitive, dangerous, almost, in the way it could pierce through his defenses.
“You think everyone has a reason for leaving,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. “Maybe some of us just…move forward, without looking back.”
Zara tilted her head, studying him. “Moving forward doesn’t mean running away. But you’re doing it anyway. I can see it.”
He blinked, just slightly, almost imperceptibly. That little flicker of awareness was all she got.Damn it, he thought.Not here. Not now.He tightened the mental barriers he’d learned to build, keeping his thoughts and memories locked behind layers of discipline.
He shifted, keeping his shoulders squared, forcing his face into a neutral mask.Thank Khrona,for the training that keeps Zara from reading everything. Even so, the hum of Zara’s power in the air was like a warning bell, and he felt it tugging at the edges of his thoughts.
“What would make me leave?” he echoed, letting a hint of humor creep into his tone to deflect. “A thousand things. Or maybe nothing. Depends on who’s asking.”
