Sel’s eyes bore into mine, dizzying. That feeling from the plane returns. A sweeping sense of falling into him. Like I am losing all of myself, momentarily. Willingly. He goes so still, I wonder if he’s stopped breathing. Then I wonder if I have. You are my king now, cariad. His words hang between us, rush loud through my ears. When he speaks, his voice drips with warning.

“Do not attempt to bait me into repeating myself.” When he leans back, the air around me drops several degrees immediately, but his tawny yellow eyes are bright with anger. “And do not ask questions you do not truly wish me to answer.”

His face shutters. I train my eyes on the floor.

“Alice is coming down the hall”—Sel tilts his head, inhaling deeply—“with food for you.” He tosses the tape up in the air, then catches it. “I can take it from here.”

I dash out of the bedroom, face on fire, and shut the door behind me. Flip around to press my forehead and hands into the door, the cool surface a relief to my hot palms. I squeeze my eyes shut, grimacing into the wood paneling. Guilt and irritation and embarrassment crash around my insides, bouncing off one another so fast I can’t keep up.

What was that? All of that?

Your king? I tap my forehead against the door. God, Bree, what the hell? Sel had warned me about baiting him, and that’s exactly what I did. I wanted to get a rise out of him. Why? Why did I have to push him?

I haven’t been that close to Sel in a long time, but it also hasn’t felt like this in a long time. Like we’re on the same team instead of on opposite sides of a forever fight. The last time it felt like this was the balcony at the Lodge… his voice at my ear, low and insistent.

Cariad.

Earlier today, Nick had his arms around me, and his body pressed against mine. Sure, it was a memory-plane body pressed against my memory-plane body… but it was real. His lips were warm. He even smelled like him. Like laundry and cedar and Nick. Then later the same night, I’m—

“Are you okay?” Alice’s loud, alarmed voice breaks me out of my daze. She has a bowl in her hand and is at my side in a second. “What’s wrong? Why are you—”

“Shh!” I hiss.

“Why?” she calls. “Why are you plastered to the wall—”

“I’m fine!” I drag her to the window down the hall.

When I let her go, she puts one hand on her hip. “Explain?”

“Merlins have really, really good hearing,” I say, waving my hands. “Just… I needed to not be right outside that room.”

She sighs. “Sel’s in there.”

My head moves in a half nod, half shake. “Yep.”