Page 22

“Tor.” Raising children had made her immune to the phrase It’ll close. “That’s a significant amount of blood for something you’re describing as fine.”

“It is fine.”

“Can I —” She stopped. Reached for his arm, then caught herself, fingers still extended, not quite touching. “Can I see it?”

He should say no. He should say it was fine as it was and move on to the cracked pillar and the Elder Council call, both of which required his immediate attention and neither of which required Mirelle’s hands on his arm.

He held his arm out.

She pushed back the torn sleeve with careful hands, and he felt her touch, warm against the cold cliff air. His attention had nothing to do with professional distance. She studied the cuts, turned his arm in the low light, and ran one thumb along the edge of the highest gash.

He stopped breathing.

“These are deep. But they are closing.”

“Yes.”

“That — that’s a relief to see that happen in real time. It’s also extremely unsettling.” She did not let go of his arm. “Do you need anything? I don’t have a first-aid kit because I came to a cliff in the dark, which, in retrospect, was a choice, but I have a scarf —”

“Mirelle.”

“I’m going to give you my scarf.”

“You don’t need to —”

She unwound it from her neck, soft and dark and still warm from her body, and wrapped it around his forearm, efficient and focused, like someone who’d bandaged things before. Three children, he remembered; she’d mentioned that. She tied it off with a firm knot that wasn’t too tight and inspected her work, glancing up through her lashes.

They were close. He had not moved. She had not moved. The cold air, the ocean, and the cracked pillar all remained, and none of them held his attention.

Her hands were still on his arm.

“It’s going to heal.” Quietly. Like she was reassuring herself as much as him. She checked his arm again. Back up. Then she let go, stepped back half a step, and deliberately redirected her attention to the pillar. “That cracked.”

“Yes.”

“How bad?”

“Manageable for now.” No hedge in it. “I’m going to fix it.”

“You said that about the strange man in the square too.”

“I meant that too.”

She nodded. “Is the pillar —”

“Permanent damage. It will hold, but it’s weaker. We’re starting extra patrols tonight, and I’m calling the Elder Council soon.”

“They’re not going to be happy.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Good. They should be unhappy. A creature deliberately targeted a ward anchor tonight. They should lose some sleep over it.”

His eyes found her. She held his gaze all the same, all weight and no distance, with a warmth underneath it that had no business showing up in the cold dark after a cliff fight.

He was too close. He should step back. He did not step back. “They were coming for you. The creatures. They’re targeting awakened women, and you’re on the priority list.”

“I’ve been on a list since the café.”