My hands were shaking and I knew that she saw it. She didn’t touch me, but she didn’t step back either.
“It’s not what you think,” I forced out. “It’s not fate. It’s not destiny. It’s just… noise. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Another pulse, this time painfully warm. I gritted my teeth.
She tilted her head. “Savla… you’re scared.”
“I’mfine.” I wasn’t, but I couldn’t admit it to her.
All of a sudden, the door creaked open and a deep grumble followed.Ribbon hopped into the bedroom, dragging something in his mouth.
Behind him, battered and exasperated, were Dristan and Penelope.Penelope took one look at Hanna and me on the bed—faces flushed, the air humming with bond tension—and grinned like she’d caught us naked.
“Oh,” she said brightly. “Well. That explains why Ribbon almost tore our door down trying to get us to follow him.”
“We’re not—!” I barked.
“We didn’t—!” Hanna blurted at the same time.
Dristan squinted. “Ribbon dragged us out of bed. Acted like it was urgent.”
Ribbon croaked triumphantly and shoved his hoard onto the floor between us. There was Hanna’s sock, a glitter-covered bottle cap, the yellow leaf from before, the wooden spoon that I was certain he’d also stolen from the workshop, a piece of a blanket that was shredded at the edges and... the carving of Hanna and I. My stomach sank into my boots.
Penelope clasped her hands like she was officiating awedding. “He’s showing us the evidence of your courtship.”
“It’s not a courtship,” I growled.
“It absolutely is,” she insisted.
Dristan crossed his arms. “Should I commission a bigger workshop so you both can share? It can be my mating present.”
I made a strangled sound that wasn’t words whileRibbon croaked proudly, as if he’d just secured a political alliance.I wanted to crawl into the forge and incinerate myself.
After they finally left—with Ribbon forced to leave his hoard behind—the bedroom fell quiet again. Too quiet.
Hanna stood on the opposite side of the room, hands clasped, watching me like I was a wounded animal she wanted to help but didn’t want to scare. I stood near the door, arms crossed hard enough to hurt, every muscle coiled.
“Hanna,” I said, “you shouldn’t have stayed last night.”
“You were hurting,” she whispered. “I just wanted to help.”
“That’s the problem,” I muttered.
Her eyebrows pulled together. “How is wanting to help a problem?”
I exhaled sharply, looking anywhere but her. At the bed, the floor and then the carving she wasn’t supposed to see.Finally, I forced the truth out with a groan.
“Because I don’t want to need help. Especially not from you.”
Her breath caught.
“I can’t…” I swallowed hard. “I can’t let myself want something that could destroy me.”
Her eyes softened painfully. “You’re not your father,” she said.
I flinched and she took a tiny step forward. “Savla…”
“I need space,” I said. “Time.”
