I tried to pull away. His grip tightened just enough to keep me still.
“Look at my eyes, nothing else.”
“This isn’t?—”
“Do as you’re told, little witch.”
Something in his tone made me obey. I looked into those unfathomable gray eyes and breathed in, shaky and uneven, held it for a count of three, let it out.
“Again.” His voice was closer now, his breath warm against my temple. “And again. Keep going until you can think past the panic.”
I breathed. He counted. I breathed again. He counted. His hand stayed on my throat, grounding me, forcing me to focus on something other than the catastrophic thoughts spiraling through my mind.
“The others are alive. Lucy and Riot are dragons. They’ll protect everyone and dig through from their side.”
“You don’t know that?—”
“I do know. And I know that I will get you out of here. One way or another, we’re getting back to them. But you have to trust me.” His eyes never wavered in the pale blue light, dark and intense. “Can you do that?”
I wanted to say no, wanted to fight and rage and throw everything I had at those rocks until something gave way. But his hand was still on my throat, feeling every breath, every heartbeat. And somehow that touch—possessive and commanding and completely focused on me—was the only thing keeping me from flying apart completely.
“Yes.” Barely a whisper.
“Good witch.” The words shouldn’t have sent heat through me. Absolutely shouldn’t have. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to assess our situation. Conserve our energy and resources. And we’re going to survive until we’re out.” His thumb stroked once along my jawline, a gesture at odds with the steel in his voice. “You will listen to everything I say. You will follow my orders without question. And you will not waste your magic trying to move rocks that won’t budge. Understood?”
“You can’t just?—”
“Understood?” His face was inches from mine now, close enough that I could see the silver flecks in his dark eyes.
“Yes.” The word came out steady this time. Stronger.
“That’s my girl.”
His hand slid from my throat to cup my jaw, tilting my face up. His other hand still held one wrist above my head, keeping me pinned, keeping me still, and I should hate it, but my body was doing the opposite of hating it.
“Wickett—”
“You’re terrified.” Not a question. An observation delivered in that same commanding tone. “Scared for them. Scared of being trapped. Scared of what happens if we don’t make it out.”His thumb brushed across my cheekbone. “But fear makes you reckless. Makes you waste energy on things you can’t control.”
“I need to do something?—”
“You need to breathe.” His mouth moved to my ear, his breath hot against my neck. “You need to trust that I won’t let anything happen to you. That I’ll get you out of here, back to them, even if I have to tear this mountain apart stone by stone to do it.”
The tone of his voice sent a wave of warmth straight through me.
“You’re too calm,” I managed.
“Am I? Is it working?” His teeth grazed my jawline, not quite a bite but close enough to make my breath catch.
“You’re an asshole.”
“That’s not an answer.” He released my wrist but didn’t step back, keeping me caged against the stone with his body. “Is. It. Working.”
I should have pushed him away. Should have created distance, restored sanity, reminded us both why this was impossible.
Instead, I fisted his shirt, holding him close.
“Yes.” The admission cost me. “Yes, it’s working, you smug bastard.”
