She wanted his hands on her. Hated that she wanted it. Hated that even now, even furious, some part of her just wanted him to reach for her.
She stepped back before she did something stupid.
"The tailors did excellent work," she said, keeping her voice light. "Naia had very specific ideas about what would be appropriate for such an important gathering."
"Appropriate," he repeated, the word coming out strained. His hands clenched at his sides, and she could see him fighting the urge to reach for her. "Yes. Very... appropriate."
The repetition was almost painful, like he couldn't think of anything else to say. Like she'd broken something in his brain.
She barely suppressed a smile.
Aldric cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Perhaps we should proceed? Lord Caelum will be expecting us, and the diplomatic considerations?—"
"Of course." Brynn smiled at the gathered court, noting how several of the nobles were still staring at her. Lady Morwyn's expression had shifted from cold dismissal to grudging respect.
"You look..." Dante started, then stopped. The words escaped without permission, dragged out of him by some force he couldn't control.
"Yes?" she prompted, tilting her head to look up at him.
He was struggling. She could see it. The way his throat worked, the way his jaw had gone tight, the tremor in his shadows that kept straining toward her hem. The Lord of the Forsaken, always so composed, coming apart at the seams in front of his entire court.
"Beautiful," he finally managed, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear, like it cost him something to say it. "You look beautiful."
The word landed somewhere beneath her ribs andstayedthere, warm and unwanted.
No. Absolutely not. She was not doing this.
She was supposed to be punishing him, not melting because he'd managed a single compliment. She hadstandards. She hadgrievances. She had a very detailed mental list of every lie he'd told her.
None of that seemed to matter when he looked at her like she'd stolen the breath from his lungs.
But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction that he still affected her.
"Thank you," she replied, her smile polite. "You look very... lordly."
His jaw tightened slightly. She'd given him nothing. That was the point.
"Shall we go?" she asked, smoothing her skirts. "I understand Lord Caelum is expecting us. We shouldn't keep him waiting."
For a moment, he just looked at her. Desperation flickered in his expression, a silent plea he wouldn't voice in front of his court. His hands trembled with the effort of holding himself back.
Then he gestured toward the transport chamber, maintaining the distance between them.
"After you," he said, his voice neutral again.
She moved ahead of him, acutely aware of his presence behind her. Of the space between them that felt charged with everything they couldn't show publicly. The touch breakthrough they had to hide, the fight that remained unresolved, the desire that simmered beneath everything else.
As they approached the transport circle, she caught Dante's eye one more time.
He looked like a man in pain. His shadows strained toward her despite the audience, betraying every feeling his face tried to hide. The tight set of his jaw. The hunger in his eyes he couldn't mask, no matter how hard he tried.
She allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.
Then the world dissolved into light.
LV.
BRYNN
