“This is very different from the mountains,” Baylin observed.
“Everything is different from the mountains.”
“And you’re content here? In this glass tower, surrounded by humans?”
He looked at Ember—at the female who’d dragged herself out of a burning ship, who’d demanded he teach her to fight,who’d faced down her murderous aunt with nothing but cold determination and absolute certainty.
“I’m content with her. The rest is just… scenery.”
Baylin made a low sound in his throat—not quite a laugh, but close. “Love. The great destroyer of sense and reason.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I say it like a wolf who’s watched it drive better males than either of us to madness.” But there was no real bite in his words. “Still. Perhaps it’s different for you. Perhaps she’s different.”
“She is.”
The elevator doors opened onto Ember’s private floor. Tomas was waiting in the entrance hall, his weathered face carefully neutral but his relief obvious.
“Miss Ember. I was beginning to worry.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She crossed to the elderly servant and squeezed his hand briefly. “Rykan was right—I needed to get out of the tower and clear my head.”
“Of course, miss.” Tomas’s gaze shifted to Baylin, sharp with assessment. “And who is this?”
“Baylin.” She gestured for his friend to approach. “He’s an old friend of Rykan’s. He’ll be joining our security team.”
Tomas studied the newcomer for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Baylin endured the scrutiny without complaint, though Rykan could see the faint tension in his shoulders.
“I see,” Tomas said finally. “Will he be needing quarters?”
“Guest suite three should be suitable,” he answered. “We’ll discuss permanent arrangements once he’s settled in.”
Tomas nodded, still watching Baylin with those sharp old eyes. “Very well. I’ll have the room prepared. Dinner will be ready in an hour, if that suits?”
“That would be wonderful.” Ember gave him a warm smile. “Thank you, Tomas.”
The elderly servant withdrew, and she led them through the entrance hall into the expansive living space beyond. The evening light streamed through the wall of windows, painting everything in shades of gold.
Baylin stopped in the doorway, his amber eyes wide.
“You live here.”
“I know.” She shrugged ruefully. “It’s excessive. But it’s home.”
“It’s a palace.”
“It’s just a lot of expensive materials arranged in pleasing patterns.” She moved to the window, looking out at the city sprawled below. “The tower has history, though. My grandfather built it when Duvain Enterprises was just starting out. Every generation has added something.” Her hand touched the glass. “My father added the gardens on the forty-second floor. He said he needed somewhere quiet to think.”
He watched her profile against the fading light and something tightened in his chest. She belonged here, in this world of glass and power. She’d grown into it, shaped herself to it, and now she was fighting to claim it as her own.
And he would fight beside her. For as long as she wanted him.
“The gardens,” Baylin said thoughtfully. “That’s a vulnerability. Open access from above, limited sight lines, multiple points of concealment.”
“I’ve already addressed the security concerns.” He moved to stand beside Ember. “But you’re right—it needs work.”
“We should walk it together tomorrow. Fresh eyes might catch what you’ve missed.”
