“Corin.”
He stills.
Good.
I turn his hand under the light, examining the place where the blade cut him. There’s nothing left. Not even a mark to pretend it happened. Just smooth skin, faintly flushed where the injury used to be.
My stomach drops.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Explain that.”
Corin glances at his palm, then back at me. “Excellent nutrition.”
I lift my eyes to his face.
“Try again.”
He smiles.
Too quickly.
“I’ve been telling you. Porridge.”
I don’t let go.
“Corin.”
“Sable.”
“Don’t.”
He exhales, softer this time, something real slipping under the practiced deflection. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You just healed in seconds.”
“I’ve always healed quickly.”
“No,” I say, tightening my grip just enough to make the point land. “You haven’t.”
His expression flickers.
There.
A crack.
He looks away first, which is new.
“People change,” he says.
“Not like that.”
He shrugs, but it’s not as careless as he wants it to be. “Maybe I’m improving.”
“From human to what?”
His mouth opens?—
Closes.
