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Tor’s eyes cut to him.

Pike closed his mouth. His expression communicated a great many things he wasn’t saying. Drayce nodded. Once. He already knew.

Althea. Of course.

“How long?”

“The alert board. The day it went gold-white.”

“That was three weeks ago.”

“I’m aware.”

“You’ve been running training sessions on your mate?”

“I’ve been conducting a threat assessment for someone being deliberately targeted from outside. Those are different things.”

“That’s impressively organized,” Pike said carefully. Staying diplomatic cost him. “Maelin, back me up.”

Maelin replied, “She steadies near you. The data’s been saying it for weeks.” He went back to his glass.

“Right.” Pike. “What Maelin said. Also, you’ve had her scarf in your truck for days.”

“That’s operational data?”

“That’s me paying attention.” He sat up. “Okay. Okay, here’s what you do. You return the scarf, but you bring food. Nobody is defensive when there’s food. You show up, hand her the scarf, and say — and this is important — ‘I was in the neighborhood.’”

“She knows where I live.”

“Then say you were near her neighborhood.”

“She’ll know that’s not true either.”

“Tor, you’re overthinking this. The scarf. The food. The neighborhood. She opens the door, sees you, sees pastry, and thinks: this man cares about me, and there’s pastry. That’s the whole play.”

“That’s your strategy.”

“That’s the opening move. There’s more.”

“I’m worried about the more.”

“The more is that you tell her she looks great. Because she does, right? She objectively looks great, and you’re standing there thinking it but not saying it because you’re you. I’m here to tell you that saying it out loud, once, in a non-threatening context with pastry present, is a good use of the words.”

Tor turned to Drayce, who studied the fire. “I’m not going to tell her she looks great in a non-threatening context with pastry.”

“It’s a good opening.”

“It’s not a good opening.”

“It worked for me with the pharmacist.”

“The pharmacist is not Mirelle.”

“The principle is the same.”

Drayce, who had navigated his own catastrophic mate situation and now sat through someone proposing the pharmacist approach, said with visible patience: “The principle is not the same.”

Maelin refilled his own glass. “He could tell her.” They all turned to him. “That she’s his mate. He could say that.”