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“Is that why you don’t want him to use his powers on you?”

Clever.

I’d never told her I didn’t want Zeke to use his powers on me, but I didn’t. If he saw what I desired most or how intense my appetite was, I wasn’t sure he’d be able to look at me the same way.

“I’m not afraid of him, but I don’t need him seeing all this.” I tapped my temple. “He looks different from other Shyrlivi, though. We all have variations in our appearance, but Zeke’s eyes and the markings on his neck and body give away that he’s a seer. It sets people on edge. He was worried how you’d react to his alternate form because of that, and because of his mouth.”

“His mouth?”

“Thought you might be afraid of the way it looks since you’re not used to our kind—especially since most of us don’t look that way.”

She looked over at Zeke, her brows pulled tight. “That’s not… I’m not afraid of him.”

“I know. I know you accept him.” I closed my eyes. “You accept it all. That’s all I need.”

If she loved him the way she loved Ash, I wouldn’t interfere. I didn’t need to be part of it. But if that were true, why did the idea of being left behind make me want to put my fist through a wall?

She’d rejected me.

You rejected her first.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the tiny black pouch I’d carried around for days. “I fucked up. There’s no excuse for it, and I can’t take it back. I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me or forget what I did, but I wanted to at least do this.”

She took the pouch from me and frowned. “What is it?”

“Just open it.”

She rolled her eyes at the bite in my voice and opened the pouch. I hadn’t meant to sound rude, so I was glad she overlooked it.

I braced for her anger and pain.

“This is…” She held up a short leather cord with her mother’s Zhyfri crystal hanging from it. “Cyn,” she breathed. “How?”

I shrugged. “Stole it from Roandra.”

“But why?”

“I told you, I fucked up.” I looked down at her boots, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I expected her to be angry with me for rehashing what happened or hurt that I reminded her of it. I never expected her to throw her arms around my neck and mold herself to my front in a tight hug.

I froze, not knowing how to respond to the unexpected move.

She tucked her face into my neck, and I felt the dampness on her cheeks against my skin.

Slowly, I lifted my hands and wrapped my arms around her back, pulling her closer to me. I wanted to soothe her, but I also needed to steady myself against the realization that having her in my arms without a fight felt good.

We didn’t talk.

I didn’t draw attention to her tears.

I’d once thought her tears were beautiful, but right now they burned my flesh and pierced my heart. Because no matter how much I hated it, I’d caused these tears. She hadn’t deserved it.

I let her cry out her feelings in the silence of the cursed forest, where only I could hear them. What more could I offer beyond my apology? I figured saying more would just make things worse.

When her tears dried, she slowly pulled away from me and stared into my eyes. “Thank you for getting it back,” she whispered, sniffing.

I shrugged. “I mean, it was my fault it was gone in the first place.”