Dangerous.
“Why don’t I show you?” Signe said, mischief still dancing in her voice.
Matheo shot a glance at Mariah. Andrian almost laughed. Even with silent bonds, even with a woman inviting him out for a night in her city, the Armature still swung back to Mariah like a star in orbit.
Not that Andrian was one to talk.
Mariah grinned. “Go,” she said, chuckling. “We’ll be fine.”
Matheo lit up. He stood, taking Signe’s offered hand. “Lead the way, Priestess.”
Signe raced for the door, tugging Matheo behind her. Their laughs and footsteps faded as the door closed, plunging the room into still silence.
Mariah sighed, placing her feet on the ground. She tilted her head toward Andrian, dark hair curtaining her face.
Gods, she was so fucking beautiful. It was slightly embarrassing how he could stare at her every day and never grow tired of the view.
She jostled his shoulder, and he realized she was talking. He cleared his throat, heat crawling up his neck. “Sorry,nio. What was that?”
Mariah rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. “I wassaying,” she drawled, “that I’m happy for him. These past fewweeks have been lonely. He needs someone.” She paused, a soft hesitation entering her eyes. “Weallneed someone.”
Of course, she had to tack on that last bit. It wasn’t that he didn’t deserve it—he definitely deserved all her subtle jabs. But he was hiding his darkness from her for her own good. And, selfishly, maybe a little bit of his.
If she knew what Kol could do, how even with his connection burned out he could still infect Andrian’s mind, how Andrian could never be sure if that seed of evil would ever leave him…
He could feel it sometimes. Kol’s presence, lingering behind his eyes. The way it bled across his vision, masking his world in a blinding shadow of hate and rage.
Fuck, he wanted to tell her. If for no other reason than to get rid of that look in her eyes. It was bliss to be back with her, to touch her and hold her, but every fiber of his being was beginning to cry out for somethingmore.
As if in answer, in confirmation, his shadows pressed against his skin. Lurking, watching, hungry.
He was minutes—seconds—from cracking, from telling her everything, when she let loose a heavy sigh. She dropped her chin to her chest, shaking her head. With a final glance at him, she rose from the couch and walked to their small kitchenette, pulling out a decanter of amber liquid and a glass and pouring herself a drink.
Andrian wanted to stay there. To let it all out.
But he couldn’t.
He stood from the couch, striding through a pair of doors and into the bathing chamber. Like the rest of the apartment, it was open and spacious, lined with glass windows overlooking the lake below. A claw-foot tub was set against the windows and tall mirrors arched above the vanities.
Andrian leaned heavily on the counter, meeting his gaze in the mirror. Thishadto stop. Something had to give. He wasbeing bent too far, so close to breaking, he knew he was bound to snap.
Snapping would mean losing something. It always did.
His hand drifted to his pocket. To a small, bundled parcel he kept there, something he was careful to make sure never left his person.
Andrian drew it out, folding the cloth back. The delicate silver band glinted in the lamplight, the two small diamonds and one slightly larger cut of polished and gleaming tanzanite sparkling.
Lisabel Salis’s ring.
He didn’t know why he hadn’t given it to Mariah yet. He knew she would want it back. It belonged to her mother, and though she refused to open that little silver journal, it was clear that she battled her grief every single day.
Andrian knew how that felt. He hated how much he was able to relate to her pain.
He should give it to her and tell her everything?—
“What’s that?”
Andrian’s gaze shot to the mirror. Mariah was striding toward the bathing chamber’s open door, head tilted slightly in question.
