“So are you.” His voice was raspy, but it curled around me like velvet. “I think our magic never really... untethered.”
No,I thought. It hadn’t. And maybe, here in the sanctuary—where time bent and the rules of the outside world faded—we could afford to burn a little brighter.
My attention was drawn to Ferrula.
She had her boots propped on the edge of the stone table, a half-eaten fruit slice in one hand and a dagger in the other, spinning it casually between her fingers.
“Careful,” Jax said from across the room, where he was trying and failing to braid a rope of dried seaweed. “You almost look relaxed. People might start thinking you’re approachable.”
Ferrula’s eyes flicked up, a smirk curving her mouth. “Only thing people should approach me for is a lesson in gutting someone sideways.”
“Ah, romance,” Jax sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You always know just what to say to make a man feel cherished.”
She whipped the dagger. It embedded in the wall next to his head with a precisethunk.
Jax didn’t even flinch. “Foreplay?”
“You wish,” Ferrula said, stretching like a cat. “If I wanted you, I’d have already dragged you into that bed and broken you.”
He tilted his head, lips twitching. “You say that like it’s a threat, but it’s an average Tuesday for us.”
From the corner, Riven muttered, “They’re going to kill each other one day, and I’m not even sure who to bet on.”
“I’d bet on Ferrula,” Naia whispered. “She’s faster.”
“I heard that,” Jax said, pointing an accusing finger at her.
Ferrula stood, sauntered over, and plucked the rope from his hands like he was a toddler playing with string. “This isn’t how you braid anything, Jax. Give me that before you strangle yourself accidentally.”
He grinned. “Youdocare.”
She snorted and shoved him with her shoulder as she passed. “I just don’t want to have to clean up the mess.”
He called after her, “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Ferrula didn’t answer, but her smirk was all the reply he needed.
Jax leaned back on his elbows, a cocky grin stretching across his face. “You know,” he said, voice just loud enough for the entire hut to hear, “I must be doing something right in the bedroom. Ferrula hasn’t stabbed me in a week.”
Ferrula didn’t even blink. “Only because I’ve been too satisfied to reach for my blades.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the room, even as Remy shook his head with a snort. “That’s disturbing on several levels. But I have to admit, whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”
Jax winked. “I do a lot of things right.”
Ferrula gave him a slow, wicked smile. “Remy, if you’re feeling inadequate, I’m sure Jax can give you some coaching.”
Before Remy could respond, I raised a brow and leaned forward. “Remy doesn’t need help inthatarea.”
He arched a brow, smug for a heartbeat, until I added, “He could use some coaching from Cordelle instead.”
Cordy, who’d been quietly munching on a fruit slice, paused mid-bite. “Me?” His voice cracked slightly. “Why me?”
Naia grinned from her place near the hearth. “Integrity. And just being an all-around lovable and special person.”
Cordelle’s cheeks turned the color of sunset. He tried to hide behind his hair, but even in the firelight, we could see the glow. “I—I don’t even?—”
“I agree,” Riven cut in, voice firm. “You’re the best of us, Cordy. If Theron tries to take you from us, I may just kill him myself.”
