Page 30 of Anton

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

She has no idea I watched the entire thing, saw that ublyudok put his paws on her and came dangerously close to ripping them off. But I waited, wanting to see how much of herself she would give him. Not that it should matter to me.

Did he hurt her? Did I miss something?

I study her from head to toe, searching for any sign that he touched her in a way he’ll regret, but I find no visible injuries. She folds her arms around herself and lowers her eyes, mistaking my inspection for something else.

“Thora.” I catch her chin between two fingers and tip her face toward mine. “What happened?”

“You care?” Disbelief sharpens the question.

My jaw sets, because I don’t know the answer.

Do I? Is that what this is?

I don’t want to examine it too closely. That’s not why I followed her out here. I just…solve problems. Bloody or otherwise. That’s all this is.

So what if I might have to kill her one day? That doesn’t mean I can’t help her before I do.

When I don’t answer, she lets out a huff and more tears gather, her chin trembling.

Blyat. Not the chin.

She blows out a breath, blinking through whatever pain she’s trying to keep buried. “I overreacted. I was dancing with this guy and he called me pretty, and it triggered me because…”

More tears come, and it’s slowly killing me. Maybe it would be better if she did kill me. Because this is worse.

“Because what?”

She grabs my forearm, and I feel it shooting through my whole body.

The more I peer at her, the more I can see how badly she wants to confide in me, tell me whatever is bothering her. I’m probably the worst person for that, but I’m all she has right now.

Poor thing.

“Something happened to me a year ago, and I just…can’t seem to move past it.”

My pulse kicks. “Where is he?”

Because of course it was a man.

Her mouth quirks. “Why? Are you gonna kill him?”

“Yes.”

She searches my face for any sign that I’m joking, but I give her none. Her fingers leave my arm and rise to my cheek, tracing my skin with such care, it’s as though she’s trying to understand me through touch alone.

My body goes tense, but I don’t pull away. I forget I’m supposed to hate this and let myself feel it instead.

As soon as my eyes start to close, I snap out of it, grabbing her wrist. “What are you doing?”

“I have no idea.”

Her focus drops to my lips, and mine follows to hers as the space between us shrinks until the only thing I can think about is what it would feel like to kiss her.

I remove her hand from my face and step back. But with her body still so close, the distance does nothing.

“Are you going to give me his name, or do I have to find out on my own?”