I laugh. “He’d throw a fit if I left him behind. Just ask Caz.”
“Well,” Varo says, scratching under George’s chin, “if it all goes to shit and you don’t make it—”
“Rude.”
“—I’ll take care of him.” He meets my gaze, serious now. “I swear.”
My throat goes tight. “Thanks.”
He shrugs. “Someone has to tell your ridiculous cat stories about his idiot human.”
“That might be one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me Varo.”
He shrugs, but doesn’t stop petting George. He does, however, sneak him a piece of dried meat from his pocket. George perks up, growling through his chewing, as Varo glances past me and smirks.
Before I can say anything else, the air shifts. Like a magnet snapping into place.
Caziel.
I feel him before I see him—heat brushing the back of my neck, the crackle of restrained power in the space between breaths. Varo turns his head lazily. “Well speak of the devil, look who finally decided to come running. Thought you’d be off brooding in a lava pit somewhere.”
Caziel doesn’t rise to the bait. “Had to check something.”
“Oh?” Varo’s voice drips with innocent malice. “Couldn’t stay away too long, huh? Must be hard, being all… tangled.”
I blink. “What?”
Caziel stiffens, just slightly. Varo doesn’t look at me—he looks at him—with that same knowing smirk.
“Just saying,” Varo drawls, brushing George’s fur from his tunic. “You’ve got a look about you. All circling flame and possessive silences.”
Caziel’s jaw tics. “I’m here for Kay.”
“I bet you are.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, suspicious.
Varo shrugs with exaggerated nonchalance.
“Nothing at all. You two have fun. I’ll be over here, cat-sitting and minding my own damn business.”
George meows and climbs into Varo’s lap like he’s been there forever.
Caziel offers me his hand. “Come with me.”
I take it. Behind me, Varo mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like,“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Caziel walks me down the winding corridor in silence, only the faint heat of his hand on the small of my back grounding me. His steps slow when we reach the familiar alcove outside his chambers. Sarai is there, arms crossed and chin tilted, like she’s been expecting me all night.
“I have to check something,” Caz says softly, voice too low for Sarai to hear. “But I’ll come for you soon.”
I frown. “Again?” I don’t mean for the word to come out on a whine, but I’m starting to feel like I’m being passed around like a hot potato. He doesn’t answer. Just tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, kisses my forehead then steps back into the dark.
I turn to Sarai. “You’re in on this, I take it?”
She holds up a folded bundle of cloth—deep red and charcoal black, with shimmering strands of gold threaded through like veins.
“You could say that.”
