“You look like you’ve been through a blender,” she said, because starting soft was probably her best tactic.
“That’s one word for sitting between Dominic and Leonid,” he said. “Blender works. Mincer might be better.”
“Chase said you managed not to kill anyone,” she said, “he sounded impressed.”
“Chase thinks it’s impressive when someone finishes their beer in under ten seconds,” Arthur muttered, “low standards.”
She huffed a small laugh that didn’t quite make it all the way out.
He saw it. His gaze sharpened. “Dani.”
She lifted her hand before he could ask whatever he was going to ask.
“Edith was at Thistlehouse today,” she said, pulse starting to race, “we worked on…this.”
She didn’t give herself time to second-guess. She reached inward, to that widened channel the bond had carved out. Let the heat rise, not in a rush, but in a deliberate climb.
A small flame bloomed above her palm. Then another, and another, tiny points of light hanging in the space between them like sparks caught in amber.
They cast strange shadows across his face.
“I can do this now,” she said softly, “no candles. No matches. No focal point but me.”
His breath caught.
For a heartbeat, she thought, hoped, that he might step closer. That he might smile the way Edith had, that rare, fierce pride. That he might reach out and let the fire brush his skin, feel the warmth, and see that it didn’t have to be a weapon.
Instead, the wolf in him surged.
Not forward. Back.
She felt it through the bond, that instinctive snap of recoil. His muscles locked. His eyes went very, very still.
She might have missed it if she didn’t know the way his body sat over his bones. If she hadn’t spent years memorizing every tension in him.
The flames wobbled.
Something in her went cold.
“There,” she said quietly. Her voice didn’t sound like hers, “That’s the truth.”
Arthur’s jaw tightened. “Dani—”
“I didn’t throw it at you,” she said, “I didn’t set the curtains on fire. I lit a handful of sparks in our hallway. And your first instinct was to pull away.”
“I didn’t—” he started.
“You did,” she said, “it’s all right. You can say it. You’re afraid.”
His mouth flattened, “I was surprised.”
“You weren’t surprised,” she said, “you were frightened.”
The flames sputtered. She clenched her fist.
They winked out.
Smoke curled briefly in the air, then vanished.
