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“Here,” he said, pushing me onto Miles. The witch took me without argument, and I fell against him, hands reflexively coming up to cradle my face. “She can’t be with me.”

“D-Damen!” The panic choked at me as the pain retreated—no doubt thanks to Miles. But it was enough to help me think clearly.

He couldn’t run away. He couldn’t.

But as he touched the bridge of his nose, as if he expected to find his glasses there, my focus remained fixated on his hand.

It was an accident.

If we left things as they were now, nothing would ever be the same.

But Damen ignored me and Miles’s sharp protest. He stalked from the gymnasium, slamming the door behind him.

“Here.” Miles, apparently, had decided to table his concern for Damen. He’d moved us to the bleachers and set me gingerly on a bench before he fell to his knees.

“Let me see,” he said, pulling my hands from my face and guiding them to rest in my lap. His form swayed in the corner of my vision while my attention remained captured by the recently abandoned doorway. “It’s bleeding,” Miles pointed out, grabbing a clean towel from a nearby pile, then he addressed Bryce, calling over his shoulder. “Hand me that water.”

I’d forgotten about him.

Bryce stood still as a statue some feet away, watchingme, and not so much perturbed by Damen’s departure or Miles’s hovering. However, a short moment after Miles’s order, the fae man’s stoic expression fell, and he sighed as he stalked to the folding table and snatched up a water bottle, tossing it in the witch’s direction.

“I told you not to do anything stupid,” he lectured.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Bryce narrowed his eyes as Miles touched the cloth against my face, watching for my reaction. But at the moment I was too concerned about Damen to worry.

My muscles were tense as I struggled to understand Damen’s reaction. “D-do you think h-he’s angry at m-me?”

Damen had been super angry once before, when I didn’t listen to him when he fought the hyenas. And he wasn’t thrilled when I jumped between him and the Snallygaster too. He told me to never get involved.

But this was the first time I’d ever gotten hurt, and fromhis own handtoo.

He was probablybeyondlivid with me.

“Damen?” Miles asked mildly, pressing the towel to my lip. His tension had vanished, but his eyes still moved over my face warily. “Nah. There’s absolutely no reason to be angry at you. He’s upset with himself.”

“But…” My attention wandered back to where he’d disappeared. He’d walked away, again. And I couldn’t get past the feeling that there was a permanence to it this time.

“He’s a lonely person,” I whispered, for the first time telling someone my theory about Damen out loud. Miles’s movements paused at my statement, and he raised his eyebrow, giving me a doubtful look.

Was I the only one who could see it?

“He acts the way he does because he wants attention. He needs to be loved and admired. He lashes out when he feels like he’s losing control because he doesn’t know what else to do,” I told him; my breath was tight at the thought. “He crossed a line, and probably has no idea how to make it better. He won’t stop running away, especially if he’s ashamed.”

In fact, he was a lot like me in that regard.

“He needs someone to talk to him.” I should go after him, but he wasn’t in a good mental place. What if he was still mad? Even understanding this about Damen, I was mortified to admit that I was scared.

Bryce groaned, rolling his eyes as his posture relaxed. “Fine.”

I glanced at him. ‘Fine,’ what?

“I’ll go be his friend again,” he answered, sounding put out.

“Wait…” I pushed on Miles’s shoulder, holding out my hand to Bryce. But he was already stalking away.

Friends, again?

Why did my chest hurt at the thought?

I didn’t want Damen to feel lonely, but that wasn’t what I asked for. If Damen was friends with Bryce, then where did that leave me?