She lowered her voice to steady it. “Do you kill Hunters like me?”

His gaze rooted her in place. “Hunters, yes. But not like you.”

Her heart clenched, and she held the dust up to his face. He could have stopped her by now—broken her fingers, if he’d wanted to—but he hadn’t. But he must know that, if she sprayed the dust, his torment would be excruciating.

“What are you talking about?” She’d gained mastery of her voice, at least, and it sounded far more confident than she felt. His comment had unnerved her, and she couldn’t stop staring at him. The shocking contrast of his jaw-dropping beauty with the primal ferocity in his eyes seemed positively otherworldly. “You hardly seem human anymore.” She hadn’t meant to say that part out loud.

“And yet I just saved your life.”

“I didn’t need your help. I had it under control.”

“That’s not how it looked. He was gnawing at your jugular.”

Don’t show weakness, Rosalind. “I was lulling him into a false sense of security. I was preparing to attack.” Her stupid hand trembled, and she hated that he could see her fear. He probably loved every second of her terror, relished the scent of her panic.

His eyes slid over her, landing on her ring—her good luck charm, and one she never took off.

“An iron ring,” he said. “That’s how you stay sane.”

“What are you talking about?”

He slipped closer, his movements fluid, and adrenaline flooded her veins. Run.

But she couldn’t run. Turning her back on him would mean instant death. She kept her feet planted on the ground, her heart racing.

Rivulets of rain poured down his skin. “I want to see what happens when you take it off.”

It was more of a command than a request, but she knew better than to follow his orders. She had no clue why he found her ring interesting, but his intense scrutiny made her uneasy. Like he was peeling away her armor, or catching her coming out of the shower.

“I don’t take it off. Ever. It’s my good luck charm. Some people have votive candles. I have my ring to keep the monsters away.”

“Doesn’t work, though. After all, I’m here.” He leaned closer, and despite the rain she could feel the warmth of his skin. She inhaled his powerful magic: air seared by lightning, a hint of sage and earth. She felt a strange wave of something like desire rolling off him, though she had no idea how she could sense that. He whispered into her ear, “You need to run, Rosalind. They’re coming for you.”

A shudder crawled up her spine as understanding began to dawn in her mind. He hadn’t found her by accident—he’d come for her. But why?

She gripped the iron dust tighter, knuckles whitening. “Who’s coming for me?”

“The Brotherhood. They want to watch the world burn, and you with it.”

Ice closed around her heart. No. He’s lying. “Why would the Brotherhood come for one of their own?”