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The server came over, balancing a heavy tray on one hand. She set an array of drinks down, along with a bottle of wine I’d never heard of.

“Vodka tonic,” the server said, pointing to a glass with a lime wedge on the side. “Old Fashioned.” She pointed to an amber liquid, then rattled off a few more before leaving us with a deep bow of her head.

I went straight for the tonic, squeezing the lime juice inside before I took a long sip.

“Aaaah.” The vodka went straight to my soul.

Soren leaned back and let out a weary sigh.

Rowan studied the other Lord. “Why?”

All of us knew exactly what he was asking.

Soren said nothing for a long moment. He sipped his Old Fashioned, a faraway look taking over his face.

“It’s my fault,” he said as the silence stretched on.

I blinked in surprise. “What?”

“If it weren’t for me, none of this would have happened.”

My laugh was etched with sorrow. “I can assure you, it definitely would have. Maybe not as soon, but she would have found me eventually.”

Soren watched me. “I let myself get careless. And you—” His voice broke. He looked away, fingers tightening on his glass. “I can never apologize enough for what happened to you.”

“Don’t make this about yourself,” I snapped.

Soren turned, a frown curving his lips. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve always been a bit of a selfish bastard, Soren, but this is a new low.”

I got up from the table and stalked away.

“Moira.” Heavy footsteps sounded from behind.

I pushed on the front door, eager for fresh air. “Leave it, Soren.”

Frigid cold blasted me in the face. I inhaled the scent of pine in the air and felt my shoulders drop just a hair.

Soren’s grip tightened around my arm. I froze. “Don’t touch me,” I rasped.

“I’m a shit,” he said softly.

I snorted. “You think?”

Soren gently tugged me around. “I do.”

He gently tilted my chin up. Soren was a tall bastard, and I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes. His lips twitched. “I’ve always been an idiot when it comes to saying the right thing.”

“Liar,” I said softly. The asshole was so charming, he’d almost talked me right out of my pants before I managed to gather my wits about me.

Soren grinned. “You’re right. Let’s just agree on me being a selfish bastard then.”

He stepped away and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I had no right to make your trauma about me.” Soren looked at his feet. “Though I do bear some responsibility for what happened.”

I inhaled and was about to blister him again, but Soren held a hand up.

“My actions brought the witches to my doorstep. Even though none of us could have ever fathomed the lengths Minka would go to in order to find you, in the end, my inability to keep it in my pants brought her right to you. While I know it’s not my fault, my immaturity set things in motion.”