I look up at him before I can stop myself. “I didn’t realize I was required to submit a report every time I had a bad night.”
Talon’s mouth tightens. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“What are you saying?”
“That I’m your partner, Wren. I want to help.”
The words hit harder than they should. I look away again.
“I know that,” I mutter.
“Do you?”
Something sharp twists in my chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m not some stranger you have to smile for and lie to when things get tough.” His voice is still gentle, but there’s a thread of steel in it now, enough to make me finally meet his eyes. “It means I care when you’re hurting. I want to know if you haven’t slept in over a week because you’re having nightmares so bad you’d rather collapse than close your eyes.”
My breath catches.
“Wren.” I hate how gently he says my name. He’s too good for me.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and immediately regret it. My head swims. My stomach lurches. Talon’s hand lands between my shoulder blades before I can pitch forward.
“Don’t,” he says.
“I’m getting water.”
“You’re barely awake.”
“I’m not helpless.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“Everyone keeps acting like I’m made of glass.”
Talon goes very still behind me. The hand on my back doesn’t move. I push to my feet anyway, mostly because sitting still means staying inside this conversation, and I’m not sure I can stand that for another minute. But the room tips. I catch the bedpost with one hand and hiss through my teeth.
Talon is in front of me instantly, hands hovering near my arms without quite touching. “Wren.”
“I’m fine.”
He just looks at me.
That’s it. That’s all he does. He looks at me with those eyes full of worry and hurt and patience I absolutely do not deserve, and something in me snaps.
“Stop that.”
His brow furrows. “Stop what?”
“Looking at me like I’m some tragic little thing you have to handle carefully.”
His mouth opens, then closes again.
“Just say it,” I bite out. “Go ahead and say I should’ve told you. Say I’m being dramatic and ridiculous and making a mess of everything.”
He’s never been on for words and just stares at me for one long second. Then, very carefully, he says, “I’m scared.”
The anger drains out of me so fast I nearly sway with it.
