“The alcove is warmer,” I said. “Take it.”
“And you?”
“I will manage.”
I retrieved an extra blanket from storage and handed it to her. “The vent side is warmer. Keep to that wall.”
She accepted it but didn’t move right away. “You don’t have to keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Choosing discomfort so I don’t have to.”
I considered the question. “I am choosing function.”
Her mouth curved faintly. “That’s not really an answer.”
“Perhaps not.”
I shifted the partition slightly—enough to give privacy without sealing the room. Close, but not crowded. Separate, but not isolated.
When I turned back, she was still watching me, the last of the afternoon light spilling over her shoulder.
“You’re different than I imagined,” she said. “From the stories.”
“What stories?”
“The ones about monsters.” A small, wry smile touched her mouth. “You don’t fit.”
Something in me eased at that.
For a heartbeat, the distance between us shrank to almost nothing. Her scent—smoke, rain, human warmth—mixed with the faint ozone of my armor. Her gaze lingered on my face, not flinching from the texture of my skin or the ridges along my temples.
She lifted a hand halfway, as if to trace one of them, then stopped herself. “I shouldn’t.”
I caught the movement without thinking, my hand closing gently around hers before it could retreat. Her fingers were small against mine, her pulse quick beneath the skin.
“You can,” I said.
I meant it as permission, not a demand.
Her palm brushed the edge of a scale at my jaw. Warmth bloomed there, unfamiliar and dangerous in the best way.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted.
“Neither do I,” I said.
We stood like that until the light outside faded toward amber. Then I let her hand go before the world tilted too far.
“Rest,” I said. “Tomorrow, you’ll meet the council.”
She nodded, but her eyes stayed on me a moment longer before she turned toward the alcove.
She changed slowly, turning her back without being asked. I busied myself checking gear and vent filters, listening instead to the careful rhythm of her movements and the slight favoring of her ankle.
When she settled with a quiet sigh, I dimmed the lights to a low glow and took my place on the pallet near the door, positioning myself so the entrance remained in my line of sight.
Habit. Discipline. Protection.
