Page 220

His eyes, which had been holding mine with a warrior’s focus, dropped to the floor between us for one deliberate second before lifting again, colder and more distant than I had seen them since the first night in the bunker.

Anger this time.

Good.

At least it was honest.

“I have spent eight years protecting the identities and operations of males whose survival depends on secrecy.”

“And I’m not asking you to publish a list.”

He turned toward the wall, then back. “Approaching Anik risks exposure beyond me.”

“Does it?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know the Crown.”

“No.” I stepped closer. “You know what the Crown meant eight years ago.”

His ŭre flickered faintly beneath his wrists.

I kept going. “You have spent eight years avoiding it.”

“I have spent eight years serving.” He said it like a recitation, like he’d said it to himself in the dark a hundred times.

“There it is again.”

“What?”

“Duty.”

His jaw clenched.

“You use that word every time something hurts too much to look at.”

His gaze went cold. “Do not.”

“I’m right.”

“You do not understand what you are discussing.” He bit off each word.

“No. I don’t understand why a man who now believes the system hunting me is corrupted still refuses to consider the one authority that might actually be able to stop it.”

“Because approaching the Crown would expose covert operations.” He looked away as he said it.

“Your operations.”

“Not only mine.”

“But yours first.”

He said nothing. That silence felt like confirmation.

I looked at him for a long moment. Then something else clicked. Something uglier.