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“About?”

“Tomorrow.” Not quite a lie, but not the truth either.

He didn’t reply and took another drink. Later, after the beers were done and the bar had gotten even louder and rowdier, they stepped outside and began walking back toward the inn. At some point, Asterion’s hand found hers, and she let their fingers lace together. His palm was warm and rough and familiar by now, and she held on even as they went inside and climbed up the stairs to the second floor where their rooms were, across the hall from each other.

As they stopped outside their doors, Asterion shuffled to face her. She knew what was coming. She could read it in how he angled toward her, in his thumb tracing a small circle on the back of her hand. She wanted to kiss him, wanted it badly enough that her chest ached. Instead, she stepped back. His hand tightened on hers, just briefly, before he let go.

“We should get some sleep,” she said. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

He studied her face. Whatever he saw there, he accepted without pressing her for more. “Aye.”

“Goodnight, Asterion.”

“Goodnight, Ria.”

She turned and went inside, and she didn’t look back because she knew that if she did, she wouldn’t make it to her own room.

Chapter 11

Asterion

“Steady. Let the needle do the work. Don’t force it.”

Dorian was leaning over Ria’s shoulder as she guided the enchanted needle along the inside of her left forearm. “Keep your hand speed consistent. If you slow down, the ink pools. If you speed up, you skip.”

Ria didn’t answer. Her jaw was set and her breathing even, all of her focus on the task. Asterion sat in a chair against the wall, far away enough that he wasn’t in the way, but close enough that he had a clear view of Ria’s face, her arm, and Dorian’s hands as the warlock corrected her grip or adjusted her angle.

He had planted himself in this spot since they arrived. After eating most of the bagels and pastries they brought and drinking four cups of coffee, Dorian began his lessons. The morning was spent walking Ria through the basics. First, they worked with incantations, the proper breath technique and pronunciation, plus her cadence and tone. Then they moved onto the technical aspects: how to use the tattoo pen and maintain the correct angle and depth, and how to stretch the skin and respond to pressure. Despite his easygoing nature, Dorian had turned out to be a strict teacher. He would not let her move onto the next lesson without mastering the current one. Ria seemed annoyed at first, but she pushed through it, and took his every word and instruction seriously.

At first, Dorian was having her practice on a piece of synthetic material. After lunch, he had her making designs on her own skin. Asterion was tempted to say something the moment the warlock told her to roll up her sleeve and start on her own forearm. His gut tightened at the sight of her smooth and unmarked skin. The thought of the needle pricking at her, causing her pain, bothered him more than he’d thought. He couldn’t quite explain it; after all, he’d seen and done worse. However, this was Ria’s arm and the idea of her going through pain and becoming permanently marked to solve his problem made him uncomfortable.

I shouldn’t have said I trusted her.

It was true, though. But had he known that she was going to mark herself…well, he would have given it more thought. Still, he kept his mouth shut. She hadn’t asked for his opinion, and he knew better than offering it.

“Clean it up,” Dorian said.

Ria grabbed the cloth beside her then wiped the excess ink from her forearm, revealing a short, curved line.

“Good,” Dorian said. “Your depth is consistent. That’s the hardest part for most people.” He straightened up and crossed his arms. “Now do it again, right next to the first one.”

Ria did as she was told and brought the needle back down. She put her full focus on her work, as if nothing outside her arm and the line existed. A strand of hair had come loose from her ponytail and clung to her cheek, yet she hadn’t bothered to push it away. With her lips pressed together and brow furrowed, she exhaled through her nose slowly, managing her pain as the needle pierced her skin.

She was doing this for Korinnae. Doing this to help someone she had only known for only a few weeks. And she hadn’t hesitated, not once. She just said yes. From the beginning, Ria had always said yes.

Asterion shifted in his seat for what felt like the hundredth time that day as a different thought arrived. That even though he’d been taught all his life to hate people like her, and despite all his efforts trying to build walls around himself, he was still falling for her.

And did she feel the same way?

All signs pointed to yes. Or at least leading there. She hadn’t protested his kisses, in fact, she even started them. Last night, he thought it would lead to more but then she abruptly cut their evening.

She was tired, he reminded himself. And she needed her strength for today.

“You’re staring,” Dorian said without turning around.

Asterion blinked. “No, I wasn’t.”

“You were. You’ve been staring at her for the last twenty minutes.” The warlock glanced at him over his shoulder. “I’ve been around long enough to know what staring looks like.”