Page 77 of Bloom in Darkness

"It's very visible."

"You looked at it over breakfast while I was wearing a T-shirt."

"Maybe I'm nosy."

Caelan holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I glance toward Bryn. “Why not him?”

Caelan follows my attention across the room. “Bryn doesn’t dance. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Across the room, Bryn catches us looking at him and immediately looks like he’d rather fight somebody than dance.

I laugh before Caelan gets me onto the dance floor. His hand settles at my waist. Mine lands on his shoulder, close enough to the bite that my thumb brushes the edge of the bruising when we turn. “Does it hurt?”

“A little.”

“Worth it?”

Caelan grins so wide that I laugh before he even answers. “Absolutely.”

I look toward Bryn again. “Can you feel him right now?”

“Unfortunately.” Caelan glances across the room, amusement warming his face. “Our Valla is jealous that I'm dancing with you, worried about the roses in your hand, still pissed at Sabine, and so fucking relieved you're here that it's making my chest hurt."

“So you just know all of that?”

“More or less.”

I look at the bite again. “That sounds exhausting.”

Caelan’s hand settles more firmly at my waist. “It’s wonderful.”

My fingers drift from his shoulder to the edge of the mark. Caelan lets me touch it, drawing me a little closer as we keep moving.

"Let me guess," he says after another turn. "Sabine threatened the Forge."

I miss half a step, and Caelan steadies me.

"How the fuck do you know?"

“Because she already tried.”

"She showed me pictures. A cruiser outside the Forge. She said there was a detective and Bloom and gambling and—"

"I know." Caelan draws me a little closer. “She called Mercer. Which would've been scary if Mercer hadn't called Forrest five minutes later to ask why some woman from your club was trying to hand him a revenge packet."

I miss another step. “She actually called Mercer?”

“She did.”

My stomach twists. “And?”

"And Mercer called Forrest before he finished writing up the preliminary note because Sabine's timing smelled retaliatory." Caelan's hand stays steady at my waist. "The cruiser in the picture was doing traffic after a fight night. The man with the notebook was documenting a parking complaint from the business next door."

I blink at him. “That’s it?”

“That’s the terrifying evidence.”