Page 80 of Aryn

Cato studies my face. “You okay with…” He gestures toward the group again.

Every part of me wants to say no—to bare my teeth and tell him he has no place beside them. I force a small nod, though, and grit my teeth through the urge to deny him.

“It’s your choice.”

“You’ll make sure I don’t do anything stupid?” he asks with a crooked grin.

My heart aches at the smile, half-breaking at the way he needs me right now. “You’re always safe around me,” I make myself say. “I’ve got your back, Cato.”

Cato watches me for a long moment, and for a foolish few heartbeats, I think he’s going to stay. But then he flashes me that smile again before he walks back to Lirien.

It feels like I’ve been kicked in the throat as the Elduin passes him the wrapped herbs. Cato takes a slow pull, holds it, then exhales a long stream of pale smoke. After a few more hits, his shoulders loosen noticeably. His laugh comes easier, and his body language opens up. He keeps talking with Lirien, who now stands so much closer, they’re practically shoulder to shoulder.

My tail cinches around my middle until it hurts.

The longer they talk, the tighter the knot in my chest grows. Lirien keeps touching Cato’s arm, laughing at everything he says and tilting his head in that deliberate, flirtatious way. Cato, loosened by the drugs, smiles more freely than I’ve seen in days.

Fight or flight locks my limbs. I’m torn between wanting to run, to remove myself from the torture of watching him with someone else, and marching over there to rip Lirien from his side.

His choice, I remind myself. His choice, not mine. I can’t leave when I promised to keep him safe.

Minutes tick by with the dread in my gut building until I can barely breathe past it. My fingers tighten against my thighs, and finally, my composure slips.

“Cato,” I snap, my voice cutting through the crackle of the fire and the music.

He turns, blinking slowly, but walks over without hesitation. “What’s up?” he asks, speaking with a thicker drawl than usual.

“Sit.”

He watches me with those heavy eyes before dropping onto the bench beside me. The cigarette is held between his fingers, with soft whirls of smoke dancing in front of his face. He’s gorgeous in the firelight, all golden oranges that highlight the pale brown in his irises. Even like this, even relaxed and slow and sweet, that fight waits in his eyes.

He’s untamed, with no desire to be domesticated.

I glance away, finding Lirien watching us from across the fire. “I don’t like this,” I finally say.

“Like what?”

My eyes find Cato’s once more. “The way he’s looking at you.”

Cato studies my face, something unreadable flickering across his expression. “And how is he looking at me?”

“The same way I do.”

His brows flick up at the honesty. “And how do you look at me, Aryn?”

I lean closer, barely keeping the snarl from my face. “Like I want to eat you alive.”

His gaze moves to my mouth as his tongue slips between his lips to wet them. “You jealous?” he asks, voice low.

“Yes.”

Cato stares for another long moment. The firelight dances across his relaxed features, softening the usual hard lines of his jaw and turning his eyes hazy and warm. The thraeva has clearly taken hold—his shoulders are loose while his movements are slower and heavier.

“You don’t have to be jealous,” he says, “because I don’t want him.”

I blink, surprised by how direct he is. “Then why are you letting him rub all over you like that? Why stand so close, and fucking… laugh at everything he says?”

“You don’t want me to laugh?” he asks, wrinkling his nose.