Teren spun, letting go as if burned. Lucky for him, that damned bracelet kept him singe-free. “I wasn’t doing anything—”
Nythir didn’t break stride. He walked calmly and confidently, like a trained assassin, with the aim of one, too.
The rock that had previously been in his palm cracked Teren cleanly on the forehead with masterful precision.
Sadly. Just enough to drop him. Not enough to kill him.
Teren let out a startled rooster's cry and collapsed into the dirt.
The danger had passed.
Safety did not arrive with the absence of a threat. It came slowly, in increments—through breath returning, tension loosening, space being reclaimed. Nythir stayed alert, counting those seconds instead of assuming them.
Nythir did not relax.
Experience had taught him that the aftermath was where most mistakes happened—when people assumed safety instead of confirming it.
Essie bolted to him, eyes gleaming. “Nythir!” She all but tackled him with her embrace.
“You alright?” he asked, slipping his arms loosely around her.
Essie nodded, but the tremble in her hands and arms said otherwise.
“He grabbed you?” Nythir asked, stroking her hair. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands; he’d never cared to comfort someone before.
“Yes,” she whispered weakly, her voice breaking.
“Are you hurt?”
“No. I just—he was too close. I was scared.”
Nythir exhaled harshly, anger flickering beneath his ribs. “You said yes to walking with him.”
Her breath hitched. “I didn’t know he meant—anything.”
“You never do,” he said, gentler than he felt.
She sniffled, chipping away at his heart. He was not good at the whole comforting thing.
“Essie. Look at me.”
She did.
He took her wrist—the one Teren had grasped—and turned it over gently. No bruises. But her pulse raced like frightened hummingbird wings beneath her skin.
“I’m not angry at you,” he said softly.
Her shoulders loosened a fraction. “You sound angry.”
“I’m angry on your behalf.”
She blinked. Hard. “I don’t know the difference.”
Of course, she didn’t.
He swallowed, carefully brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “Then I’ll teach you.”
It wasn’t a promise of protection. It was a promise of knowledge. Those mattered more in the long run.
