Page 56

Jerry, sensing the sudden tension, makes a hasty excuse about checking some results and hurries away, leaving Maya and me alone in the corridor.

“Is that a problem?” she asks, her tone carefully neutral.

“Not at all,” I assure her. “I just—I thought you wanted to stay away from the shifter world. You said as much when we first escaped.”

Maya’s expression softens slightly. “I did say that, didn’t I? I was upset. Shaken.” She gestures vaguely. “But I’m not a coward, Griffin. I spent years of my life preparing for this, even though I didn’t know it at the time. I’m not walking away now, especially not when my knowledge could help bring down the Silver Ring.”

There’s a determination in her voice that I’ve always admired, a strength that has nothing to do with physical power and everything to do with an unshakable inner resolve.

“I never thought you were a coward,” I tell her honestly. “Quite the opposite. Your bravery has always been...” I trail off, searching for the right word.

“Impressive? Surprising? Unexpected from a mere human?” she supplies, a hint of challenge in her tone.

“Humbling,” I finish quietly. “To me, personally.”

The answer seems to catch her off guard. Before she can respond, a voice calls out from down the corridor.

“Griffin? Griffin, is that you?”

I turn to see a slender brunette hurrying toward us, her face alight with excitement. It takes me a moment to place her—Aria Vane, Elder Vane’s youngest daughter. We grew up together, along with several other children from the noble families, though she was always quiet, preferring books to the rough play the rest of us enjoyed.

“Aria,” I greet her, inclining my head politely. “It’s been a long time.”

She comes to a stop before us, slightly breathless, her cheeks flushed. “Too long,” she says, her voice soft. She glances down momentarily, a shy gesture I remember from childhood, before meeting my eyes again with a smile that seems reserved just for me. “I can hardly believe you’re really back. When Father told me, I—” Her gaze shifts to Maya, and something in her expression changes—a subtle cooling, an almost imperceptible drawing back. “Oh. Hello.”

“This is Dr. Maya Sorin,” I tell her, noting the dismissive once-over Aria gives her.

“How nice,” Aria says, her tone suggesting it’s anything but. She turns back to me immediately, as if Maya has already ceased to exist. “You must have been through so much,” she continues, her voice dropping to an intimate pitch as she steps closer. “I’ve thought about you often over the years.”

Her hand comes to rest lightly on my forearm, her touch deliberately gentle. Despite her shy demeanor, there’s a calculated quality to the gesture that speaks of intentionalflirtation. I recognize the strategy—the appearance of vulnerability designed to evoke protective instincts.

“It was...challenging,” I acknowledge, stepping back slightly to create distance. From the corner of my eye, I can see Maya’s posture stiffening, her expression carefully blank in a way that suggests she’s masking irritation.

“I’d love to hear about it,” Aria says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a demure smile. “Perhaps over lunch? When you feel ready to talk about it, of course.” Her eyes drop again, a perfect picture of shyness, before looking up at me through her lashes. “I’d be honored to listen.”

The performance is skilled—subtle enough to seem natural, bold enough to convey interest. It’s difficult to refuse without seeming cruel.

“Perhaps,” I say noncommittally. “Things are rather hectic at the moment, with the reinstatement ceremony being planned.”

“Of course,” she says quickly, her smile brightening. “I wouldn’t want to impose. But maybe the day after the ceremony? At the garden pavilion? It’s always been so peaceful there.”

Her persistence leaves me with little choice but to agree, at least tentatively. “I’ll have to check the schedule, but that may work.”

This seems to satisfy her. With another lingering touch to my arm and a barely perceptible nod to Maya, Aria continues down the hallway, glancing back once with a small, private smile.

When she’s out of earshot, Maya lets out a soft snort. “Well, that was illuminating.”

“Aria was always shy,” I say, though even I can hear the inadequacy of this explanation.

“Shy? Maybe. But she knew exactly what she was doing.” Maya’s voice has an edge to it. “The hand on your arm, the looking up through her lashes. And that quick dismissal ofme, like I was some servant who’d wandered into the wrong conversation.”

I’m surprised by Maya’s accurate assessment—and by the obvious irritation in her tone. “The noble families have always been hierarchical. Humans aren’t typically part of their social circle.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” Maya says, her voice clipped. “I’m good enough to help you escape captivity, but not good enough to be acknowledged by her royal highness.” She pauses, then adds with forced casualness, “She’s clearly interested in you.”

“She’s following her father’s agenda,” I explain, watching Maya’s reaction carefully. “The noble families have always sought alliances through marriage.”

“And you’re okay with that?” There’s no mistaking the irritation in her voice now.