“You’re hovering,” I tell him as we settle into camp for the second night.
“I’m existing in proximity. Different thing.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“Semantics.” He passes me a water flask, his grip lingering on mine. “How are you feeling?”
“You asked me that ten minutes ago.”
“A lot can change in ten minutes.”
“My emotional state is not that volatile.”
“Just checking.”
I should be annoyed. Should feel smothered by the constant attention.
Instead, I feel something else entirely.
He cares. Really, genuinely cares. Not because of duty or obligation or some ancient Fire-Bringer mystique. Because he cares about me.
“I’m fine,” I say, gentler now. “Really. Better than yesterday.”
“Yeah?” Hope brightens his face.
“Yeah.”
Drayke and Selene take first watch, disappearing into the trees with loaded glances. Four of the younger guards settle around the perimeter, scales glinting in the moonlight. The flames crackle between us, casting dancing shadows across Rurik’s features.
He’s beautiful in this light. I stopped pretending not to notice somewhere around the cliff dive—maybe earlier. The firelight sharpens his jaw, catches the copper in his hair, makes him look like something out of the legends Selene reads.
Beautiful. Ridiculous. Mine.
The last thought doesn’t catch me off guard anymore. It’s been settling into my bones for days.
“Tell me something,” I say, before I can think better of it.
“What kind of something?”
“Something true. Something you don’t tell people.”
He goes still for a moment, watching the flames dance. The silence stretches long enough that I think he won’t answer.
“I’m tired.”
The words are so simple they almost don’t register. “Tired?”
“Three and a half centuries of fighting. Of losing people. Of pretending that none of it gets to me because I’m the one who makes everyone laugh.” His voice drops. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to just... stop. Stay in one place. Have something worth staying for.”
My throat tightens. “Rurik?—“
“Your turn.” He looks at me, and the rawness there steals my breath. “Something true.”
I think about deflecting. About making a joke, changing the subject. Old habits, stubborn as rust.
But I’ve been tearing down walls for weeks now. No point rebuilding them for him.
I tell him the truth.
