His skin is deep, dark blue—darker than the prince’s—and gleams faintly in the dim light. Not just gleams.Pulses.There’s a faint bioluminescent glow along the ridges of his arms, slow-moving veins of light beneath his skin. It’s hypnotic.
Infuriatingly so.
Something in my chest tightens with an urge I can’t quite name. My fingers twitch before I can stop them, and his gazesnapsto mine.
Shit.
There’s nothing subtle about it. The second my fingers move, his eyes lock onto me, pinning me in place with an intensity that makes my breath hitch. It’s not just his size. It’s not just the sharp cut of his jaw or the way his muscles shift beneath that perfectly fitted uniform.
It’s the way he looks at me. Like heseesme. And not in a way I like.
It’s assessing. Calculating. Like he’s searching for something,expectingsomething, and coming up empty.
And it pisses me off.
The second my brain catches up to my body’s reaction, my spine locks straight, and I fix my expression into something deliberately neutral. I refuse to let him rattle me.
I clear my throat and finally answer, “No.”
His response?
Dismissal.
No acknowledgment, no indication that I’ve even spoken. Just a flicker of movement, a polite excuse to Shanae, and then he’s gone.
Shanae watches him leave, brow furrowing slightly. “Well, that was weird.”
I glare at his retreating form. “What a cunt.”
She snorts. “Kael didn’t do anything. He’s been nothing but chill and, honestly, down to earth. Well, until just now.”
“He didn’t have to.” I shake my head. “That’s the worst kind of arsehole. The ones who act like you’re beneath notice.” And “down to earth”? I barely hold back my snort. That’s not the Glowranth I’ve witnessed.
And Kael? I grind my molars. That’s the arsehat’s name? Stands to reason his name sounds like a green veg that tastes gross.
Shanae hums, clearly amused but not arguing.
I exhale sharply and turn to leave, my whole body still humming with irritation. But then, just before I disappear down the corridor?—
I feel him.
Not see.Feel.
A presence just at the edge of my awareness. Heavy. Pressing. I glance back, but the hall is empty. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s watching.Somewhere. I roll my shoulders, shrugging it off.
If the prince is anything like his guard, we’ve got a problem. And if either of them tries to get anywhere near Dawson? They’ve got another think coming.
CHAPTER
THREE
After Dawson spentthe night in the infirmary, he woke looking more rested and a lot less freaked out. I’ve explained to him in more detail what I know about the rifts and how they work and told him that Jack—who I’ve since learned is the Aussie who got sliced into this world from Queensland with his nephew, Jamie—arrived at the same time.
Dawson is well enough to move, so I’m showing him around the headquarters. Varek wants to meet him and get answers before he’s willing to welcome him officially. It’s the usual way of things here. Varek’s bad-arse ability to siphon out the truth comes in handy when figuring out who to trust.
I can only assume that Prince Aelith and his dickhead guard, Kael, are here because Varek doesn’t view them as a direct threat. Though Varek hasn’t told them about the location of Dathanor yet either.
“You can trust Varek.” I push reassurance into my tone and offer Dawson a kind smile. “He can be a bit intense, and I know it can be intimidating when you first meet him, but he has all of our best interests at heart.” It’s what I believe soul deep.
