Page 115 of As Above, So Below

“I don’t remember this,” I say, my voice quiet.

“Been thinking about my face often?” he teases, arching the scarred brow.

“Three hundred years dreaming of you,” I answer without hesitation, my voice barely above a whisper.

He gives me a soft smile as I lower my hand.

“How?” Finally, I ask the question I’ve held close to my chest for three centuries. “How did you see me?”

He lifts his face toward the heavens. “A gift of my innate.”

My brows furrow.

What kind of innate gives amortalthe ability to see into death?

“Who are you?” I ask and he meets my stare.

His smile is enough to render me stupid. It tears at my resolve, all logic, and sends a shiver down my spine.

“A broad question with many answers,” he laughs with a rueful shake of his head. “You and I are bound in many intricate ways, little witch. Many of which I’m still figuring out.”

My brows raise along with my surprise.

I am not the only one left feeling confused, trying to make sense of this. The smile he gives me is dangerous, distracting. His golden eyes are filled with things he wants to say but struggles to find the words or courage to speak.

Fear induced clarity strikes me like lightning.

This, all of this, is dangerous. Whatever this is, whether it be of his design or the gods, I can’t allow it.

Pivoting, I leap from the parapet onto the roof. He turns as I sling his cloak at him, catching it before it’s launched off the building, the confusion on his face clear.

“You may choose to be Nektos’ puppet, but I do not,” I say asmy fingers fumble to unstrap the dagger on my thigh. “Netharis, Celesta, Nektos,you—I am not a tool to be used.”

He drapes the cloak over the parapet as he stands.

“I do not seek to use you,” he says, the note of hurt in his voice hitting me square in the chest. “I’d hoped to make that clear. I see that I haven’t.”

With a fluid motion, I toss the sheathed dagger to him. He catches it with ease, dropping it beside him, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Nothing is clear,” I snap the words, letting my fear fuel me. “I left the hells to escape Netharis, my contract, and the archdemon I’ve been promised to. Not to enmesh myself with mortals, or Fate, or any of this.” I point to the dagger. “If I had known the implications of accepting your gift, I wouldn’t have. I don’t need a lover. Ineedsomeone who can keep me alive—out of the hells. Someone who isn’t afraid to stand against the gods with me.”

In my chest, the pull grows stronger, and I plant my feet firmly in place. Fighting the urge with every ounce of determination I have.

“Let me be your weapon, little witch,” he says, closing the distance between us in a few long strides. “As your guardian.”

My guardian?

Lilith had said the same earlier. And admittedly, while with him, the worries of the world fall away—not because I’m distracted, but because Ifeel safewith him. Despite the way his words set my heart racing, I steel myself, wrapping my distrust, fear, and hopelessness around me like an impenetrable shield.

“I cannot trust you.” My hands tighten into fists as I stare up at him, and my innate begins to vibrate.

“We do not have time for me to earn your trust the way I’d like at this point.” He reaches, gently brushing some of my hair out of my eyes. “Offer me a contract.”

“What?” The question leaves me in a breathy sound. “No.”

I did not hear this fae correctly.

He did not just ask me for a contract.