Page 219

“Confidence is simply complacency dressed for public viewing.”

I smile despite myself.

Corin turns toward the sound immediately.

The moment his eyes find me, the bond deepens into warmth so rich it nearly steals my breath. Gold still glows faintly in his irises after exertion, and his horns catch the lanternlight in dark polished curves. Weeks ago, the sight would have terrified half the district. Tonight, it simply feels like him.

His mouth curves slowly. “There you are.”

Rhazek glances between us with the exhausted patience of a man who has accepted fate as a permanent inconvenience. “Training is concluded.”

“You just don’t want to witness flirting,” Corin says.

“I have witnessed enough flirting to survive several lifetimes.”

“Fair.”

Rhazek walks toward the house without another word.

Corin watches him go. “He likes you.”

“I think his version of liking people resembles supervised tolerance.”

“That’s practically affection.”

I step into the training circle.

The packed earth is warm beneath my boots from ward heat and the lingering pressure of infernal current. Corin’s breathing remains deep and even from exertion. Sweat darkens the waistband of his training pants. The hunger hums beneath his skin with calm responsiveness, answering movement and command without once reaching wildly outward.

I stop directly in front of him.

“You’re staring,” he says softly.

“You’re glowing.”

“That feels hypocritical coming from you.”

“Possibly.”

He studies my face. “Long day?”

“I dismantled the last of Vaerith’s estate holdings and drafted bloodline protection law revisions.”

“That’s incredibly hot.”

I laugh quietly. “You are deeply strange.”

“Yeah.” His gaze lowers briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. “But stable.”

The word settles warmly between us.

I reach up and place my hand flat against the center of his chest.

Weeks ago, touching him mid-training would have risked a surge. Adrenaline, exertion, and infernal current together used to sharpen the hunger into dangerous volatility. Now the power beneath my palm responds differently. Warmth rises through the bond in smooth waves, attentive rather than reactive. His pulse stays steady. The black-gold glow along his arms softens toward my touch instead of flaring harder.

Corin’s eyes half-close for one breath.

“Still good?” I ask.