They reached the main entrance, where servants bowed as they passed. Brynn acknowledged them with polite nods but didn't engage. No observations about the architecture. No questions about the servants she'd been slowly befriending. No glances at him to share some private observation, the way she'd started doing in recent weeks.
Nothing.
Just distance that formed a wall he couldn't breach.
The silence pressed against his skin as they climbed the staircase toward the residential levels.
She stopped at the landing where their corridors diverged, finally turning to face him.
Her expression was composed. Distant. The face of someone addressing a superior they didn't trust.
But her eyes?—
For a heartbeat, before her jaw set and the anger rose to cover it, he saw hurt—the kind she'd never let him see if she could help it.
Something cracked in his chest.
"I need to rest properly. In my own chambers."
The words were reasonable. The tone was ice.
“Wait.” The word came out rougher than intended.
He should let her go. Should respect the distance she was demanding. Should remember that he was the Reaper, that caring about mortals only led to grief, and that whatever Seraphina had poisoned her with was probably deserved.
He stepped closer instead.
Her breath caught. His shadows surged toward her. He barely managed to rein them back before they wrapped around her.
The way she'd let them, once before yesterday.
"Whatever Seraphina said?—"
"I told you." She cut him off, but her voice wavered on the last word. "It's nothing important."
Another step. Close enough to count her eyelashes. Close enough to see the flutter of her pulse beneath the delicate skin of her throat.
Close enough to touch, if he dared.
"You haven't looked at me since yesterday." The words felt like pulling teeth. "You've barely spoken. Something she said changed things between us, and I can't?—"
He stopped. Swallowed the rest. He couldn't fix what he didn't understand. He couldn't defend against accusations he hadn't heard. He couldn't stand this distance when he'd only just learned what closeness with her felt like.
She was staring at him now. Finally,finallymeeting his eyes, and what he saw there made his breath catch in response.
Hurt. Confusion. Anger, yes. But beneath it, something that looked almost like longing. Like she wanted to close the distance between them as badly as he did.
Like she was fighting herself as hard as he was fighting himself.
“Please.” He couldn't remember the last time he'd used that word. "Tell me what she said."
Her lips parted. The lower one trembled, just slightly, and his gaze dropped to it without permission. The soft pink of her mouth, the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips?—
His shadows slipped their leash.
One tendril curled around her wrist before he could stop it. Just touching. The way they'd touched her during training, when she'd let them guide her movements and hadn't pulled away.
She didn't pull away now, either.
