“Okay,” I say, my breaths coming faster now. “Just us.”
He studies me for a long moment, and whatever he reads in my expression seems to satisfy him, because tension drains from his shoulders.
“Sit down.” He gestures at the couch. “This will work better if you’re relaxed.”
Relaxed. Right. Because I’m totally capable of relaxing while a man I barely know, whose hands won’t stop trembling andwhose voice makes my pulse do things it shouldn’t digs around in my head.
I sink onto the worn cushions anyway, and Tobias drags one of the rickety chairs over, his knees almost touching mine when he sits.
“For this to work, I need to—” He stops and tries again. “I have to put my fingers on your temples. It’s how I access the deeper memory layers. It’s purely…” He pauses again, his gaze locked on mine, looking at me like he needs my permission to speak. “It’s the standard technique.”
“I understand,” I say, and all I can do is keep my eyes on his as he calls golden fire into his hands and leans forward.
Then, suddenly, he stops, his hands hovering on either side of my face, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off his palms and hear that his breathing’s gone shallow.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “This isn’t like when I questioned everyone about the Halloween Ball. Then, I was searching through a single night’s worth of memories. Now, I’ll be going deeper, for longer. Once I’m in, I’ll feel what you felt and see what you saw.”
“Yes,” I say, surprisingly steady. “I’m sure.”
He takes a deep breath and gently settles his fingers against my temples, as if he’s terrified of breaking me.
“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, leaning closer to me so naturally that I’m not sure he realizes he’s doing it. “Think about the Halloween Ball.”
I take a deep breath and do as asked, allowing my thoughts to drift back to the Starflare Ballroom.
The music was too loud, which was fine, because I didn’t want to talk to anyone. The dancing was worse—watching Oliver’s hand on Jade’s waist as he smiled at her like she was the only person who mattered in the world. I lasted about twenty minutes before I gave up and started drinking, because watchinghim fall for her was easier when everything was blurry and the fire wine burned enough to give my pain a different source.
Heat spreads from Tobias’s fingertips into my mind, and it’s like sinking into a warm bath. The tension in my neck loosens first, then my shoulders, then the knot behind my ribs that’s been there since the emberlink started healing. His magic is soothing as it enters, slow and careful, like he’s asking permission from every nerve ending before moving deeper.
“Relax.” He sounds far away now, soft and tender. “Let me in.”
I try to stop holding everything so tightly. Three years of practiced composure, and now I’m supposed to just... let go.
I slow my breathing and try to steady my heart rate. My fingers are curled into fists against my thighs, and I have to consciously peel them open, one finger at a time.
Relaxing becomes easier as he moves through my thoughts, gentle but thorough. It’s like someone’s running their fingers through tangled hair to work out the knots, trying not to hurt me. Every memory he touches opens for him, and it’s more intimate than I expected, like being undressed one layer at a time.
When he reaches a memory of Oliver kissing me on the cheek—just a friend-kiss, casual and meaningless to him—his magic stutters, pulling back like he’s touched a hot stove.
“Sorry,” he says, soft and strained. “I didn’t mean to…” His thumbs stroke once against my temples before he catches himself and goes still.
He must have felt my pathetic, desperate hope that one day Oliver’s casual kiss would land on my mouth instead of my cheek, and now he’s apologizing as ifhe’sthe one who should be embarrassed.
“Keep going,” I manage, and his fingers press a fraction harder against my temples.
As he continues, I focus on the warmth of his hands, his uneven breathing, and his thumbs that occasionally brush my cheekbones in tiny movements he doesn’t seem aware he’s making.
He moves through Oliver and me studying in the library, Oliver laughing at someone else’s joke, and Oliver looking right through me while I stood there aching for him to see me.
Time stretches and compresses. The only constants are Tobias’s soothing touch and the strange, swirling sensation of him moving through my memories.
Somewhere in the middle of it, I have a realization that makes my breath catch.
The emptiness didn’t start when the emberlink bond broke. It started years ago. Maybe it was the first time Oliver looked at another girl instead of me, or the first time I realized that being his friend would never be enough. Maybe even before that, when I first learned that wanting someone doesn’t mean they’ll want you back.
I’ve been empty for so long that I forgot what it feels like to be full.
But right now, with Tobias’s hands on my temples and his magic moving through my mind, I don’t feel empty. I feel seen. Really, truly seen, for the first time in my life, by someone who isn’t flinching away from what he finds.
