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I didn’t know what Roan would say or do, but I braced myself for a scolding.Why, at a time like this? Do you want to make things worse?

I wouldn’t know what to say.

He walked to the table, dropped his bag, and from the corner of my eye I could see him hesitate. After a moment’s pause, he walked over.

“Do you mind?” he asked. His hand reached out, hovering in front of the knife in my own.

I bit my lip and slid the handle into his palm. I felt so small in that moment—foolish and irrational—like a child caught doing wrong.

I thought he’d take my knife and slide it into his belt, but I was wrong. Instead, he moved to my side and took up the hair I’d been cutting.

His touch sent a shock through the whole of me. He was slow and careful as he eyed my sloppy work and started in himself. He ran the blade down my hairs like he’d done this before. After a few cuts, he mussed the locks, his gaze sharp.

And my insides lit like fire.

I felt every touch, each tug and brush and cut he made. I didn’t know if he could see the gooseflesh that he caused me, but I felt it all like a storm across my skin.

Against my best judgments, I relaxed. Whatever fight I’d been considering upon his first touch had fled by his third. I was too far gone.

He made me dizzy with it. Stupidly relaxed, blissfully indulging. I wished he would never stop. I hoped he would do more.

Run his fingers down my neck.

Trail the curve of my spine.

Gods above, what were these thoughts?

I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.

A different part of me had taken over. I closed my eyes and lost myself in it.

Too soon, he’d made his way around my hair and was standing back in front of me. He tousled it a few more times, checked again for evenness, and smiled, meeting my stare.

“Looks good,” he said.

I was without words.

He flipped the knife, catching it by the blade, and held out the handle to me.

I took it.

And just like that, everything came to a head in my mind. Those who wanted me gone were growing bolder; I had never belonged here; I was starting to feel things for Roan.

Rahv was right.

I needed to leave.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Roan

Baer in the meeting house when I found him and pulled him out the side door, into the back alley so we could speak in private.

“I don’t have time for this,” he said.

“You’ll make the time.” I tried not to regret my boldness.

Why do you try so hard to make that man happy?