“Move some chairs, Yora,” Teren says. “Work with the community, and let them see it. I told you that people here are better than you’re giving them credit for. Now we’re going to test that.”
“With yourlife,” I hiss.
He raises his eyebrows. “Is your life worth less, then, do you think, that you should risk yourself and no one else can? Just because the Order raised you to handle assaults yourself doesn’t mean you have to, Yora. Friends share the load.”
Argh.
I can’t decide if I want to punch him or me.
I want to move beyond what the Order trained for me, but it makes me feelsupremelyuseless to not even be able to do that. And maybe being useless wouldn’t be so bad if my friends weren’t having to pick up the slack for me—
“Move, Yora,” Zan says quietly. “We need to get back to the mountain.”
Oh?
Oh.
Before anyone can violate the last bit of sanctuary he has.
Even if people would have realized the Quiet had fallen eventually, the fact that I told them still makes it feel like my fault Zan won’t have a safe space to land anymore.
If I want him to beableto choose to stay, I need to figure out how to fix that, fast.
Chapter 19
Aftermovingsomechairsand getting waved off by Teren, who is positivelyexudingwarm and calm vibes in a way I will never be able to match, Zan and I slip out.
Instead of heading for the mountain, though, Zan takes us another way.
“I’m getting a lock,” he says flatly. “It can’t wait any longer.”
Okay, that’s fair. I did just take away his dragon form’s safe place, but he could at least still have privacy this way.
Wecould, if we ever needed it.
For reasons.
Given that I’ve just invited Crystal Hollow into my life, though, I can’t help feeling like this is a counter to the exact point I was trying to make—
“There’s a difference between being who you are and open with it and allowing everyone unlimited access to you,” Zan tells me.
I blink at him.
That’s... a really good point, actually.
The Order had unlimited access to me, which meant I had no freedom.
I don’t have to share all of myself with everyone. I can have boundaries.
I certainly don’t want to share all of Zan.
“So are you selectively telepathic then?” I ask him. “Do you control which of my thoughts you read? Because before now I could have called your understanding of me intuition or close attention, but that one was a leap.”
Zan’s stride hitches. “Later.”
It’s afternoon now.
We’re running out of daylight, and this may have been the last day we have together, and I’ve spent it focused on pretty much every part of my new lifebuthim.
