Page 208 of The Devil May Care

His mouth quirks. “From what I understand of your world, yes. That’s what people do. They… court. Gently.”

“Sounds tedious,” I mutter.

“You’ll survive.”

I glance at him. “And what if I don’t want gentle?”

He lifts a brow. “Then you can have that, too. After.”

My stomach flips. “After…”

He reaches for a goblet, takes a slow sip. His eyes never leave mine, but his lips curve in a devastating smirk.

My gaze sharpens. “You’re teasing me.”

“Maybe. But you’re smiling.”

I roll my eyes, cheeks flushed. But the flame inside me purrs in agreement—just like the subtle pull that never quite leaves when he’s near. I don’t know what it is. But I know I don’t want to let go of it. Not yet.

The night settles into something softer, quieter. The heat between us hasn’t burned away, but it’s dimmed into something steady—like coals beneath a blanket of ash. We’ve talked for hours without realizing it, shared silence without needing to fill it. He lifts my pendant gently between his fingers. It’s a small gesture—one he’s done before. But something about his expression this time gives me pause. There’s a flicker behind his eyes, like he’s heard a whisper I haven’t.

“What?” I ask, voice low.

His gaze doesn’t leave the pendant.

“You’re carrying more than I expected.”

My brow furrows. “I am?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just closes his fingers around the charm like he’s trying to feel something beneath the metal.

“Gilded,” he says quietly, more to himself than to me.

“The realm?” My stomach flips. “Like a thread?”

He finally looks at me, unreadable. “Yes.”

I shift on the ledge, nervous all of a sudden. I search his face.

“You didn’t give me anything after that trial.”

“I know.” A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Apparently, you didn’t need me to.”

“I didn’t even know I had it.”

His gaze drifts down again, back to the pendant resting against my chest. “Some things leave their mark, even if you don’t notice at the time.”

A pause stretches between us. Then I ask, a little hesitant, “Are you going to get in trouble for this?”

That gets his attention. His mouth curves fully now, amusement overtaking whatever shadow had lingered.

“For you finding your way through the Gilded trial without my help?” He arches a brow. “They’d have to be very brave or very foolish.”

My heart flips at the casual possessiveness tucked in there. But I can’t help it—I press again.

“Caziel…”

He lifts a hand and brushes his knuckles along my jaw. “No, Kay. I’m not in trouble. You didn’t break anything. The realms just… listened.”