And even with her gaze averted, he could see that his words softened her.
“I’m not sure what changed, but I’d like my friend back so I can thank her for keeping me alive.”
With a sigh, Brea pulled her feet onto the bed. “I’m not trying to punish you, Thom,” she said.
“Then maybe talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?” she demanded, meeting his gaze at last. “Yes, I saved your life. You’re welcome. But I also caused us to lose one of our most powerful members because I choseyourlife over his. If I can’t act with indifference, I can’t be sure that I’ll save the ones who matter most.”
Thom’s eyes widened. “You regret saving me?”
Her face scrunched. “No, that’s not—” She stopped and ran her hands over her face. “It was the right choice,” she said, the words muted. “If I could go back, even now, I would still have chosen to save you.”
“Thanks,” he said with dry humor.
She gave a half-smirk. “Magical or not, these people need you. Deckard, Evylin—they would crumble without you. Rafferty and Ethenn? You’re their leader, even if Deckard is their officer. The rest of us don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. You Ephrians are the heart of this team.”
“You’re an Ephrian too,” he reminded.
“Distantly.” Brea leaned forward, holding his gaze with a serious look on her face. “Letting you die would have crippled us...permanently. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Thom dipped his head, uncertain how his presence could mean so much. He chose to ignore that statement and asked instead, “If you don’t regret it, why are you treating me as though you do?”
Brea pressed her lips together. “Because I regret what happened after.”
“Ilain’s accusation?”
She gave a small nod.
“I told you I don’t believe her.”
Brea stared at her hands. From somewhere, she’d produced a knife. Likely one of the five he knew she slept with at all times.
Thom frowned at her dispirited mood. Her shoulders were uncharacteristically slumped. All her confidence seemed to haveabandoned her in the shadowy room. And suddenly, Vayden’s words came back to him.
“She’s not punishing you. She’s protecting herself.”
Furrowing his brow, Thom decided to ask the question that had been foremost on his mind since the Space Keep.
“What doesmi’caromean?” he asked.
Brea twirled the knife, a humorless smile on her lips. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You wouldn’t be avoiding the answer if that was true.”
She scoffed in a self-deprecating manner. “It is a joke, that’s all.”
“Then we can laugh about it together when you tell me what it means.”
A long silence stretched between them, and he could see she was working up courage. No matter what she claimed, the term was far more serious than a simple nickname.
Finally, Brea’s eyes lingered on the blade in her hands as she whispered, “Mi’caro.” Her gaze met his. “My heart.”
Thom’s pulse stuttered.
Ilain was right.
Fighting to gain some semblance of understanding, Thom ran a hand through his hair. He grappled with the nickname’s meaning.My heart.Such a tender endearment. And she’d given it to him after only a day.
