Celine tugs my pants lower, and we stare at the spot together.
“It’s gone.” She runs her finger over me absently. Blood rushes south, and my skin pebbles as I swallow around the lump in my throat. If I’m no longer connected to S’lach, I don’t need to worry about accidentally hurting Celine.
I can be her partner again. Without fear.
“I’m all yours,” I whisper. “Every inch of me.” Catching her fingers in mine, I let the shirt fall and raise her hand to my lips.
Ciprian sighs. “He’s too damn romantic,” he complains. “How can I compete with that?”
Celine’s lips twitch. “You’re not competing. None of you are—that’s the whole point.”
“Please.” Luca chuckles. “We’re not trying to eliminate our competition, but that doesn’t mean we can get complacent.”
“It’s a friendly competition, angel.” Alistair sounds sincere. If his fangs weren’t showing and his eyes weren’t red, I might believe him.
“Thankfully, Branthe came through with a big bed,” Ciprian says. “I don’t remember the last time I got a good night’s rest.”
Does he mean because of Celine’s search for me? Or have the others been worried, too? The thought is nice.
“I can sleep on the floor.” Riven stands to one side, arms crossed over his chest. He’s not obviously out of place, but he’s left enough space between him and Alistair to make it clear he’s uncomfortable.
Celine’s grip on my hand tightens. I glance between the two of them; I’ve missed something during my absence. It should have been obvious as soon as the veydra walked in, but I was preoccupied.There’s something going on. Otherwise, why would he be here?
“Funny,” Luca says softly. “I didn’t take you for a quitter, Riven.”
I wait for him to fight back, but Riven says nothing. Besides a flicker of static across the bridge of his nose, he shows no sign that he even heard Luca.
“Leave him alone.” Celine sighs. “If he wants to sleep on the floor, that’s his choice.” Her voice is even but brittle.
I roll my shoulders back and shake my head. I’ve been locked up in a windowless torture chamber for the better part of a month. I have no patience for false pride or secrets.
“Do you love him?” I ask Celine.
She frowns. “Who?”
I point at Riven. His face flickers again, and this time the static band extends all the way to his hands. Celine’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline, but she isn’t fooling me. She’s the worst liar in the universe, and she’s not much better at acting.
I shake my head and focus on Riven. “She gave you a chance, and you blew it? Explain.”
Riven snarls. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
Celine pulls her hand free from mine. “This isn’t your business, Malach.”
I turn to Ciprian for answers.
He grins at me, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “They’re in a fight, but they’re definitely together,” he says. “You didn’t read that wrong.”
Riven hisses. “Past tense, demon. We were together, but itchanged nothing;therefore, there’s nothing to discuss. Our relationship, or lack thereof, no longer exists.”
Celine winces, and her wings droop, the tips grazing the plush carpet.
I grab her hand and squeeze it gentlyuntil she focuses on me. “Talk to him, my truth.” I glance at my feet. “Before you both find pride to be a poor companion.”
Someone knocks.
I give Celine’s hand one last squeeze and answer the door. Lyklan looks me over and nods once, satisfied to find I’m not bleeding out on the floor. “I’d like to talk to you,” he says. “If you’re willing.”
I nod and follow him out the door. This conversation is overdue. If I follow my own advice and stop letting pride get in the way, maybe it will even go well.
