“Leaving.”
It wasn’t a question. She nodded anyway.
He set down the knife and wiped his hands on a cloth. He crossed to the table and sat across from her, his expression serious.
“You know I’ll help you,” he said. “Whatever it takes. But I need you to be certain. The world out there isn’t like your books. It’s dangerous and unpredictable. It can be beautiful, yes, but it’s also harsh. Once you leave, you can’t undo that choice.”
“I know.” She reached across the table, and he took her hand. His palm was rough with calluses, warm and solid. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve done nothing but think about it. And I know it’s scary, and I know I might fail, and I know there are dangers I can’t even imagine. But I also know I can’t stay here forever. Not now. Not after...”
Not after you.
She didn’t say it. She didn’t have to. His fingers tightened around hers.
“ARIS will try to stop you,” he said.
“I know.”
“It controls the doors, the stairs, the electrical systems. Everything in this tower answers to it.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t know if I can override its systems. I’m a warrior, not a technician. If it decides to lock us in?—”
“Then we find another way.” She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes squarely. “There’s always another way. You taught me that.”
He smiled at her.
“You’re remarkable,” he said quietly. “You know that?”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “I’m stubborn. You said so yourself.”
“Stubborn. Curious. Brave.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “And far too trusting for your own good. But yes. Remarkable.”
She ducked her head, embarrassed by the intensity in his voice, but she didn’t pull her hand away.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The soft rhythm of Liora’s breathing told Baylin that she’d finally fallen asleep. He waited three more minutes, counting the slow rise and fall of her chest, before carefully extracting himself from the tangle of sheets and warm limbs. She murmured something indistinct and curled into the space he’d vacated, her golden hair spilling across the pillow like liquid sunlight.
He stood in the darkness, watching her. Three days. That was all it had taken for this small, fierce human to burrow so deep under his skin that he couldn’t imagine walking away.
Mate,his beast rumbled.Ours. Protect.
He silenced the knowledge as he always did. There would be time for that later. Right now, he had work to do.
ARIS had reduced the lighting to what the AI called “nighttime conservation levels,” but his Vultor eyes needed little illumination. He moved through the shadows with the predator’s grace that had kept him alive through decades ofhunting and warfare, his footsteps making no sound on the polished floor.
He was sure ARIS was hiding something in the lower levels and he intended to find out what. Instead of approaching the stairs, he headed for the maintenance shaft he’d spotted previously. Liora had walked right past it without a second glance, but he had caught the faint draft of air flowing through its seams and noted the wear patterns on the floor where someone had stood before it many times. The nursemaid, perhaps.
He pressed his palm flat against the panel and pushed. Metal groaned softly, then gave way to reveal a narrow vertical shaft lined with rungs. No electronic locks. Someone wanted a way in that ARIS couldn’t control.
He descended.
The lower levels of the tower were different from the living spaces above. The air tasted stale, filtered but not truly fresh, and the walls bore the marks of age—micro-fractures in the smooth surface, discoloration where moisture had seeped through failing seals. This section hadn’t been maintained with the same care as Liora’s domain.
Because ARIS doesn’t want anyone coming down here.
He emerged from the shaft into a corridor lit only by emergency strips along the floor. His shadow stretched long and dark as he moved forward, ears straining for any sign that the AI had detected his presence. Nothing. The maintenance shaft wasn’t monitored—or if it was, ARIS had decided not to intervene. Yet.
