David entered, his gaze on a thick book resting open in his hand. At the sight of him, golden and well-kept, something wrenched out of place in her chest.
He lookedfine. No circles darkened his eyes. No hollowness sunk his cheeks. He was thriving without her, while she…
Fire seared through her emotional core.
She winced at the pain, her fist pressing against her heart as if it would make any difference at all.
He must have felt it, too, because he slowed to a stop, his gazelifting to find hers. Pale green eyes remained unreadable. Inside, his ice had never been thicker.
She’d nearly forgotten how handsome he was. The sharp angles of his face, the familiar curves of his mouth—she never thought such things would cause pain, but a sharp stab spread through her nervous system anyway, some wretched combination of missing him, wanting him, and fearing what was about to happen.
Where have you been?
With a decisive click, Rowilda closed the door behind him. The book in David’s hand snapped shut, and he dropped it to his side, keeping the cover averted so she couldn’t read it.
“She lives,” he said, letting his mouth stretch into an approximation of his usual smirk.
Anna stepped back. Her heart throbbed, picking up speed so that her headache sprung to life once more. “I was going back to my rooms.”
He surveyed the suite lazily. “Alone?”
“Er—yes?”
His brow lifted. “Aren’t you too sick to walk without assistance? Or have the rumors been overstated?”
“I’m feeling better.” She kept her voice even, though it wanted to crack. She longed to demand where he’d been. Why hadn’t he checked on her?
“Lucky you,” he said.
Her tone grew pointed. “You wouldn’t have to rely on rumors if you’d bothered to come yourself.”
A bitter flash ofsomethinglit his eyes but disappeared so quickly, Anna wasn’t sure she’d seen it. “Touché,” he said.
Silence.
She looked at the door, but he still stood before it, blocking her exit. As the seconds stretched, the hairline cracks that had appeared in her heart over the past lonely weeks crept outward like serpents. Intricate patterns of pain raced over the surface of her emotions, now drenched in alarm.
The look on his face, the hesitation in his posture—they forewarned of bad news.
She’d given him too much, hadn’t she? She’d placed her heart in his hands, thinking it was safe.
But it wasn’t.
She could see it in his eyes.
He was going to break it to pieces.
Her breath caught at the spiderwebs branching with unstoppable determination.
David’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I see your cage isn’t any stronger.”
“I haven’t had the energy to practice.” Her voice shook that time, and she winced, her temples throbbing.
He nodded and rocked on his heels. “That’s too bad. It would’ve made the next part a little easier.”
She stared, unable to dredge forth even a blink.
“Anna—”
