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I opened my eyes, and there Lucas was, his arm extended in front of me as some kind of protection. Like one noodley human arm could stand between a Thorzi warrior and what he wanted.
“I could’ve,” Lucas admitted, his chin up.
“But you didn’t. Because we have no quarrel with each other. And without Crux and Xyren, there is no quarrel between Kaelum and me.”
I couldn’t imagine that, Lucas, the barista, capable of killing a warrior like Vorian. But right then, Lucas was standing stiffly, like he was ready for a fight, like he could do that sort of thing.
“It wasn’t Vorian’s fault,” I interjected. “You know Crux. He doesn’t like giving people choices.”
Lucas crossed his arms. I knew he could see sense, but he was worried. About me and about Kaelum and maybe about everyone and everything because that’s what happened when you got plucked off your planet and had to fend for yourself.
“You owe Kaelum an explanation,” Lucas insisted.
Vorian inclined his head. “It is my wish to set things right with the prince.”
Lucas nodded. He bit his lip, like he wasn’t sure what to do next and hadn’t really expected Vorian to agree with him.
“We should give them a few minutes,” Kenosi offered, speaking for the first time in his calmest, smoothest voice. “They have a lot to talk about.”
I could see the muscle working in the corner of Lucas’s jaw, but that was no good. There was no sense in everybody getting bent out of shape for nothing.
“It’s fine.” I curled my fingers against the edge of the bench and shifted forward to put my feet back on the floor.
Lucas threw his chin toward his shoulder and glared back at me.
“Really,” I insisted. “Vorian wouldn’t hurt me.”
When Lucas looked his way again, Vorian nodded. “That is not my intention.”
Finally, Lucas let Kenosi usher him out and we were alone. But fuck if I knew what to say. Sorry for not being literally magical?
In two long strides, Vorian was in front of me. He sank to one knee, the other leg bent beside my own.
“Ididhurt you, no matter my intention,” he said quietly, his hand extended. When I didn’t jerk away, he grazed his fingers across my splotchy cheek.
My breath came out in a puff, a feeble attempt at laughing it off. “Well, I disappointed you.”
“You did not.” His words were ardent, his eyes blazing.
For a second, I forgot to breathe.
“Okay. Then can you tell me what did happen? Because one second you were there talking about impossible stuff, and then you were gone. But now you’re here and—and I need you to fill in the gaps. I don’t understand.”
Before I could let myself go on a rant about all the things I didn’t understand, Vorian’s thumb swiped softly across my bottom lip. I fell quiet and the faintest hint of his rare smile curved his lips.
“I could not stand you being afraid of me.”
I jerked forward. “I’m not afraid of you.”
His eyebrow rose skeptically at my swift assurance. But if he thought that—
“Would I let Kenosi and Lucas leave me alone with you if I were afraid of you?”
His lips twisted, like he was already coming up for all the reasons I might do exactly that—to keep them safe, sacrifice myself, all the quick responses trauma victims cultivated to mitigate damage and save face.
He knew those tricks too.
I shook my head. “It’s not that. I was never scared of you, Vorian. But you’re right, a little. I was scared.”
