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She brushed aside Aarin’s hair, trailing a finger over his neck.

“I let you go!”

Her fingers worked their way onto and down his coat. She paused and tapped her pointer finger, a thoughtful look crossing her face.

Aarin noticed. He sucked down a choppy breath. “This outcome was for the best. It was what was supposed to happen.”

“Says who? You?” Lilith scoffed. “Your blessing? I’ve been under scrutiny of the Allay’s intuition a few times now, and all it seems to do is give me a headache.”

“You made it out alive. No harm done.”

Her anger peaked again, quicker this time. She placed a thumb and forefinger above and below his eye, inspecting his quivering pupil.

“I don’t smell any escence on you. You’re sober?”

He nodded.

She stepped away, talking to Jarek now. “You can drop him.”

“That’s it? No convincing me you can use him to your advantage?”

“I thought about it,” she said, abandoning her pretentious attitude, “but I don’t trust him. I think he’ll make a better scapegoat than anything.” Aarin gasped, and Jarek couldn’t help but smile. “I thought you might like that,” she continued. “And one from Reave, too. We can pin the robbery on him if he sticks around. His lofty connections in Reave will be convincing enough.”

“You’re stealing from Caiven? You can’t be seri—” Aarin plopped to the ground when Jarek moved back. He cursed as he clambered to his feet toward Lilith. Jarek winced, but she didn’t. “Where am I supposed to go?”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Leaving you there wasn’t personal!”

She huffed, tightening her gloves back to her hands. “Stag shit. You never liked me.”

“Because I knew there was something wrong with you from the day we met!” Aarin clenched his fists and luckily for him, kept them and his anger at his sides. “The Wraith, Lily, are you serious? How could you lie to us about that!”

“I lied to them! If I ever get the chance, I will apologize until my throat is hoarse, but you don’t get to lump yourself in with—” She cut herself off, eyes widening. “Where is Reina?”

Aarin flashed Jarek a menacing look. “Like I was trying to tell you—”

“Is she here?”

“No, and believe me, I’ve looked. I—” Aarin stared hard at Lilith, fury dying. “You don’t know, do you?”

Alarm paled her face. “Know what?”

“She’s the one who blew a chunk out of your Stalker.”

Several emotions snapped to the surface of Lilith’s aura—joy, sadness, anxiety—before it settled on an angered blight that leeched into her voice. “You let her come after me? After I told you not to?”

“Oh—Come on, Lily! You know how she is!” Aarin didn’t lunge, scream, or emit one bitter color. Instead, he leaned against the wall with a sigh as a bright burst of affectionate pink erupted from his skin. “That woman is something, isn’t she?”

“Please, Aarin. Just this once, spare me the pain of listening to you act like you gave any sort of a shit about her.”

“I loved her.”

Lilith’s aura erupted like fire. “She loved you. She loved you so badly your betrayal destroyed her until there was nothing left. You hurt her so much I can barely stand to look at you even now!”

Aarin paused. “Then you know exactly how I feel looking at you.”

Lilith’s daggered stare glistened—her anger warping into cold, clammy misery. Jarek imagined the orange aura of pain only the Gnaw could see in place of her emotions.