“I didn’t look, Firelocks.”
What good would come of telling her that I had?
I’ve kept her at arm’s length, despite every person in my circle constantly throwing us together.
She seems pleased. Arlet lets out a shaky breath, the soft rustle of fabric filling the room as she ties the cloth around herself. It’s an absurd sound, far too erotic for what’s actually happening. My muscles lock, every part of me willing this torture to end.
"How long does it take to tie a thin strip of cloth around your waist?" I grit out.
She makes an irritated noise, as if I’m the problem here.
I push further. "All decent?"
“Yes,” she hisses.
I turn.
The heat in the salt room is heavy. It’s not unbearable, but sweat beads at my brow, slipping down the back of my neck.
And Arlet is glaring at me like she’s ready to set me on fire.
“What?” I grunt out.
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight. And I just remembered how angry I am at you.”
“Why? Because of this?”
“Did you forget you broke into my house?” she snaps, arms crossed tight over her chest.
I let out a slow breath. "I wasn’t trying?—"
"I don’t care," she cuts in, stepping closer. The flush on her cheeks isn’t just from the heat now—her temper burns. “I don’t like getting angry. But you invaded my house. My nightgown was in my room!With my soiled clothes.You—” Her voice catches, her fingers shifting at her sides before she clenches them into fists. “That is my home, Vann.”
Something in my chest pulls tight. I didn’t want to violate her space. I just—I just needed to make sure she was safe.
That’s the part I can’t say. The part I don’t even know how to put into words.
Guilt churns in my gut, twisting like a blade. I exhale sharply, rolling my shoulders, trying to shove it aside—but it sticks.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the words gruff, unpracticed.
Arlet blinks, clearly startled.
Good. Maybe that’ll be enough.
But then I make the mistake of looking past her, to the polished marble slab where she had been lying, and my attention snags on something that shouldn’t be here.
A Mating Journey scroll. The same damned kind that’s sitting on my table at home.
I move before I think, pushing past her, reaching down to grab the parchment just as she lunges for it.
"Why are you going through my thingsagain?" she snaps. “I’m leaving if you don’t stop.”
“Come now, this is not so personal. I was given the same one. You can read it if you’d like,” I say, smiling to myself as I unroll the stone paper. She would find nothing on my scroll, but I might be able to get her to have a drink with me. We could talk about what was happening.
Then, I consider she might be looking for another partner. So soon? With everything else?
“You are… going tomorrow?” she asks.
