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“I’m not okay.” I turn my face into his palm for a second, needing the warmth there more than I want to admit. “I just got told I have three days to hand myself over, or people I’ve spent twelve years running from are coming here to kill me. I’m allowed to be a little fucked up about that.”

His jaw clenches, black flooding whatever amber had started fighting its way back into his eyes.

“Hey.” I catch the front of his shirt. “Look at me.” He already is, but something about saying it makes him focus. “I’m not going anywhere.” His grip on my wrist doesn’t loosen. “I’m not running.”

His eyes search mine, and I know exactly what he’s looking for now.

Twelve years. That’s what he knows about me. Twelve years of disappearing the second the Conclave got close enough to threaten whatever life I’d managed to build. And Thessaly just walked into the clubhouse and gave me the biggest reason yet to do exactly that.

I slide my hand from his shirt to the side of his neck. “I promise.”

His forehead lowers to mine, and some of the fight finally leaves his grip around my wrist, and then he kisses me, softly. Nothing like the hungry kisses we’ve shared before. His mouth brushes mine once before coming back for another, his hand sliding from my wrist to my waist as he pulls me closer. There’s no heat behind it asking for more, no urgency, just Carnage holding me there while his lips move gently against mine.

My fingers curl against the back of his neck.

Fuck, I needed that.

When he pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His nose brushes mine while his thumb moves once against my waist, and I catch the question still sitting in his eyes. You sure?

I nod. “I just need a minute,” I whisper. “That’s all. I need to get out of this room, breathe some air, and think without twenty people watching me fall apart.”

His eyes close.

“Five minutes.”

One eye opens, and despite everything, my mouth twitches.

“Okay, maybe ten.”

His hand slides from my wrist into mine and stays there.

I look down at our joined hands. “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

Carnage gives me a look that answers that question pretty-fucking-clearly.

I let out something between a laugh and a shaky breath. “Fine, but you stay by the door.”

His eyebrows lift like he’s arguing the point again.

“I need to think.”

He stares at me for another second before finally giving me a small nod.

That’s apparently the best deal I’m getting.

I lead him through the open doors, his hand staying wrapped around mine until my boots hit the gravel outside. Only then does he let me go, and even that looks like it costs him.

Carnage stops beside the doorway, and I walk a little farther into the yard.

Not far, just enough.

The night air hits my face as I wrap my arms around myself and stare into the darkness where Thessaly disappeared.

Behind me, I can feel Carnage watching.

He keeps his promise.

He gives me the space.