We break apart instantly, both of us turning toward them, breathless, disoriented. I shift Alette to my side and stand, instinctively putting myself between her and them, my pulse still racing from her touch. No one speaks, but I glance up at them, ready, knowing I deserve whatever’s coming.
Sylvian steps forward a half-step, eyes flicking between us, something tight in his expression. “What is this?” he demands, quieter, but no less pointed.
Cassius doesn’t raise his voice, but his gaze is locked on me, unblinking. “Right after our chat?”
That lands harder than shouting would have.
“Yeah,” I say, voice rough. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”
The words hang there, heavy and undeniable.
I drag a hand through my hair, forcing myself to meet their eyes. “I’m… sorry.”
That gets a reaction. A real one.
Oberon lets out a harsh, disbelieving breath. “Sorry?”
“I didn’t plan it,” I go on, quieter now. “I just—” I shake my head once. “I wanted to talk to her. I needed to tell her how I felt.”
“Howwefeel?” Sylvian corrects angrily.
“This should’ve been a conversation between all of us,” Cassius adds, his anger a little less obvious, but definitely there.
Alette steps forward beside me, her cheeks flushed, her expression conflicted. “It’s not just his fault,” she says quickly. “I… I shouldn’t have let it happen. I’m sorry.”
“No.”
All three of them speak at once.
It stops her cold.
Sylvian steps in first, voice firm. “This isn’t on you.”
Alette hesitates. “But I?—”
“He knew better,” Oberon cuts in.
“That was entirely my doing,” I say immediately, accepting the blame I rightfully deserves.
Their attention snaps back to me. I don’t look away. We were bonding. Coming together. The only way to salvage our hard-earned peace is to be honest.
“I knew exactly what I was doing,” I add. “And I did it anyway. And you all know why.”
Sylvian exhales slowly, something resigned in the sound. “Yes,” he says. “We do.”
Cassius nods once, thoughtful. “It could’ve been any of us that walked across that hall, but it really shouldn’t have been anyone, without some kind of gentlemen’s agreement.”
Oberon drags a hand through his hair again, tension still there, but shifting. “It doesn’t mean I have to like walking in on it.”
“Fair,” I say.
Alette looks between us, clearly overwhelmed. “You’re not… angry?”
Sylvian’s gaze softens slightly. “Not with you.”
Cassius adds, “That was never in question.”
Oberon’s eyes flick back to me, something intense still simmering. “Him?” he mutters. “Different story.”
