Niks studies her for a long moment, his sharp gaze assessing, as if weighing the exact way to phrase his words before he speaks. There’s a deliberateness in him, like he wants to ensure his answer is precise-not misleading, but not rigid either.
“Whatever you want to do,” he finally says. “We’re flexible back home.”
It’s a safe answer. Open-ended. Non-restrictive. Yet itcks the kind of certainty she was hoping for. Flexible how? Will she be able to live freely, or will there still be expectations ced upon her?
Saphira leans forward slightly, watching him carefully. “Interesting,” she murmurs. “You said before that your pack takes in all kinds of supernatural’s if they need it… will I be in danger?”
The question shifts something in him.
He stops eating entirely, his focus snapping to her with renewed intensity. A flicker of something unreadable passes over his face, and she finds herself bracing, unsure of what his reaction truly means.
“You will never be in danger,” he states firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “Not by my pack. We are family back home-we look out for each other, regardless of what we are.”
Something about the way he says it so definitively eases a fraction of her tension.
Then, after a pause-
e-as if sensing she might need further reassurance-he adds, “Plus, you have Jed’s protection. That’s for life.”
Saphira blinks, thrown off by the reminder. Jed’s protection.
She hadn’t given it much thought, but now that Niks mentions it, it does settle some of the unease creeping up her spine.
Still, before she can dwell on it further, Niks tilts his head slightly, his expression shifting.
“Can I ask you a question?”
There’s something about the way he says it-almost cautious, but curious.
She nods without hesitation. “Of course.”
She’s already told him so much-what more could he possibly want to know?
“Is there anything between you and Jed, romantically?”
The question catches herpletely off guard. She hadn’t expected that.
It’s so wildly out of ce that for a moment, she wonders if she misheard him. But when she meets his gaze, the weight of it is there-unspoken, lingering.
Her response is immediate. “No, of course not.”
The idea is absurd. Jed had made himself clear from the start-his protectiveness toward her wasn’t born from desire, but something deeper, more familial.
“He said he felt protective-like I was his sister. Nothing else.”
Yet even as she says it, there’s a shift in the atmosphere.
And for reasons she can’t quite exin, she suddenly wishes she knew why Niks had asked in the first ce.
She means every word, but the reaction she gets is entirely unexpected.
Niks flinches-subtle, barely noticeable, but enough to shift the entire atmosphere. The change is instant, like a sharp inhale before a storm breaks.
Without warning, he stands. The suddenness of it sends a ripple of tension through her, making her straighten slightly, prepared for-something.
But he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t argue, doesn’t react-just turns and disappears into his room, closing the door behind him.
Saphira blinks, momentarily stunned.
Did she say something wrong?
The thought gnaws at her as she waits, listening for even the smallest sign that he might return. A creak of the floorboards, a sigh, anything.
But the minutes stretch into silence.
His breakfast remains untouched, sitting cold and forgotten on the table.
Thirty minutes pass. Still-nothing.
Saphira exhales, running a hand through her hair, frustration creeping in at the edges. I don’t know what just happened.
And maybe she never will.
The uncertainty weighs heavier than she expected, but she pushes herself up, forcing her focus elsewhere. She begins clearing the table, methodical, anything to busy her mind.
Maybe he’lle outter for dinner.
Or maybe-whatever just happened changed things between them for good.
And that thought unsettles her more than she’s willing to admit.
The day slips by faster than Saphira expects, each hour blending into the next. She finishes thest book avable to her, but, unsurprisingly, it holds nothing useful-nothing that brings her any closer to discovering what she truly is.
She had hoped, even just for a fragment of information, something she could use as leverageter. But the pages have offered her nothing.
With a quiet sigh, she sets the book aside and heads for the shower. The weight of the day clings to her, and she wants to wash it away-to forget it, just for a little while.
She strips down, adding her clothes to the washer with the ones she set aside earlier, turning it on before stepping under the stream of warm water.
For now, she lets herself rx. She can restart her search once she’s done.
Standing beneath the warm cascade of water, Saphira lets the weight of the day melt away. The heat soothes her, washing away lingering tension, grounding her in the moment. This was exactly what I needed.
She steps out, wrapping a towel around herself before reaching for her bag-only to realize it’s not where she normally keeps it.
Her stomach sinks.
Where is it?
And then, it hits her. Oh no.
She left it by the sofa earlier while sorting theundry, meaning she has to retrieve it-dressed in nothing but a towel.
This is just great.
Her stomach twists at the thought, heat creeping up her neck. Why didn’t I just grab it earlier? She had been so caught up in everything,pletely oblivious to the fact that this exact moment woulde back to haunt her.
Hopefully, Niks is still in his room.
The idea of running into him like this is enough to make her want to curl up and disappear entirely.
She cracks open the bathroom door, her pulse a steady drumbeat in her ears. Listening carefully, she holds her breath.
The kitchen is silent. No footsteps. No shifting shadows.
This is my chance.
She moves fast, darting toward the sofa, relief flooding her chest when she spots the bag plumped neatly beside it. Thank the goddess.
But just as her fingers brush the fabric, a sound stops her cold.
A presence.
A shift in the air.
No, no, no-
Please, goddess, she thinks desperately. After everything you’ve put me through, don’t let him be standing there.
Slowly, she turns.
And, of course, there he is.
Niks stands by the bedroom door, gaze locked onto her, expression sharp-angry as hell.
The heat in her chest turns into something mortifying, and her grip tightens around the fabric of her towel, pulling it impossibly close.
Great. Just perfect.