Not Safety

LYRA'S POV 

I mean to bathe. I even get as far as the bathtub before I stop, water untouched, listening to the sound of Kael's footsteps fade down the hall.

Whatever Lorenzo wants, it isn't nothing.

I pace instead of washing. Three steps to the window, three steps back, the bandage on my palm itching under its wrap. I keep expecting to hear him coming back sooner than this. Every set of footsteps in the hall makes my chest jump, and every time it isn't him, the waiting gets a little heavier.

I've barely caught my breath before someone knocks. I hurriedly open the door quickly without thinking.

Mara stands in the hallway, and something about the way she looks at me makes the room feel colder than it did a minute ago.

"Kael's with Lorenzo," I say, because I don't know what else to offer her.

"I know." She doesn't move to leave. "I came to see you."

She steps past me into the room before I decide whether to invite her in. I close the door out of habit more than choice.

"Lyra." She says my name like she's testing the weight of it. "What exactly do you want from Kael? From us?"

"I don't understand the question."

"Don't." Her voice sharpens, quiet but unmistakable. "Don't think you can look at me with that innocent face and expect me to believe you. I'm not Kael. I don't fall for it."

"I'm not trying to fool you."

"Everyone who's ever wanted something from this pack has said exactly that." She crosses the room slower than she needs to, and for a second her eyes catch the candlelight wrong, flashing gold before settling back to brown. I've seen Kael's eyes do that. I've never seen hers do it, not once, not even at the ravine.

"I'm not your enemy, Mara."

"I never said you were." She steps closer.  "I said I don't know what you want. There's a difference."

"I want him safe," I say, before I can stop myself. "That's all I want. Whatever it costs me."

Something shifts behind her eyes, there and gone too fast to name.

"Don't mistake tonight for safety," she says quietly. "Whatever you two proved in that circle, I doubt it's real."

I don't know if that's a warning, about her, or about something else entirely, and the not-knowing sits in my chest like a stone.

"Is that a threat?"

"It's the truth." She steps back, and whatever was flickering behind her eyes disappears as quickly as it came.

She's gone before I can ask her what she means by any of it, the door clicking shut behind her with a finality that makes the room feel emptier than it did before she came.

I'm still standing there, staring at the door, when Kael comes back.

His eyes go straight to the direction of the bathtub.

"You didn't bathe."

"I didn't get around to it."

"You had an entire room to yourself and a bathtub full of water. What exactly were you doing?"

I'm not about to tell him Mara was standing in this room five minutes ago asking me what I want from him. "I don't know. I guess I didn't feel like settling into it yet."

A slow grin spreads across his face, entirely too pleased with himself. "Were you waiting for me?"

"I was not waiting for you."

"You were absolutely waiting for me." He crosses his arms, delighted. "You wanted me to bathe with you. Or rather...bath you?"

"I did not say that."

"You didn't have to. It's written all over your face."

"My face says nothing of the sort."

"Your face," he says, stepping closer, "is currently the color of the fire behind you."

I shove him, and he laughs, actually laughs, the kind of sound I haven't heard out of him since before any of this started. For one small, unguarded second, none of the rest of tonight exists.

"Go," he says finally, nodding toward the bathtub "I'll be right here waiting for you."

I do, grabbing the shirt he kept for me to change into from the bed.

When I come back, some of the ease from a moment ago has already drained out of his face, replaced by the same tightness I saw when he first walked in. His eyes are distant in a way I haven't seen since the cave, and he doesn't quite meet my eyes when I sit down across from him.

"What did Lorenzo want?" I ask.

"Nothing important."

"You don't look like it was nothing."

"It's late," he says, reaching for my hand instead of answering, threading his fingers through mine like the gesture alone will be enough to close the conversation. "You should sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

I let him pull me toward the bed, because I'm too tired to fight him on it tonight, and because some small, exhausted part of me wants to believe that whatever he's not saying can wait until sunrise.

But I feel it anyway, lying beside him in the dark, listening to his breathing slow into something that isn't quite sleep.

Whatever Lorenzo told him, it's still sitting behind his eyes, wide awake, right along with mine.