Page 15 of Fierce Highland Magic

Really looked.

The easy charm was still there. The handsome face. The knowing eyes. The irritating tendency to offer half an answer and let me choke on the missing half.

But beneath all of it, there was something else.

Weariness, perhaps.

Or guilt.

Or a man who had made too many decisions no one had asked him to make.

I did not like that I could see it.

I liked even less that part of me wanted to ask.

"What did it cost you?" I said.

His gaze held mine.

For a moment, I thought he might answer.

Then a woman in a mask of white feathers passed close enough to brush my shoulder. She smiled at Rowan as she went.

"You collect strays now?" she asked.

"Only the difficult ones."

Her smile widened.

"Careful. Some creatures bite."

She disappeared into the crowd before I could respond.

Rowan turned back to me, and whatever had been open in his face a moment before had closed again.

"We should move."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"I know."

He began walking deeper into the thoroughfare.

I did not follow.

He stopped after three paces and looked back.

"Standing still is not neutral here, Lyra."

There it was again. He said my name. I had not given it to him.

Another question I could not afford to chase.

I caught up to him, keeping a careful distance between us. The stalls pressed close on either side—glass bottles full of pale blue smoke, cards that fluttered like moths, velvet bags tied with red thread. Faces watched from the edges of the light.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"Somewhere less visible."