I look away first.
That alone answers him.
Lenrog sighs softly into his drink. “Finally. Progress.”
“I did not say that.”
“You did not need to.”
Rain rattles harder against the windows. Thunder rolls faintly somewhere over the harbor.
I stare out at the wet neon streets below while something deep inside me settles around the word love with terrifying certainty.
Not attraction.
Not desire.
Not temporary happiness.
Love.
The realization should feel dramatic.
Instead it feels inevitable.
Lenrog watches me absorb it. “How unfortunate.”
I snap my attention back toward him. “Excuse me?”
“Love complicates tactical judgment.” His expression remains calm. “It also makes men brave in extremely inconvenient ways.”
“You speak from experience?”
A shadow crosses his face then.
Gone quickly.
“Yes,” he says quietly.
Interesting.
I file that away automatically.
“You warned me away from the Poison Memories,” I say.
“Yes.”
“And now they escalate anyway.”
“Ron escalates.” Lenrog corrects smoothly. “The organization follows his emotional instability because he inherited influence faster than wisdom.”
“He is going to hurt someone.”
“Yes.”
The certainty in Lenrog’s voice chills me more than anger would have.
“You know that already.”
