He resumed unbuttoning his shirt “I have no desire to meet pixies, Elena.”

All right.

It was clear this strategy was not working. Me maneuvering us out of the tent, out of the camp, into nature and amongst magical creatures. And thus us being mostly alone (because pixies were lovely, they could be mischievous, but they weren’t chatterboxes when it came to communing with humans).

Cassius and I would have to talk.

Which would (I’d decided) lead to sorting a few things out.

However, since this was not working, I had to try a different tack.

Now.

Before he got to the point of taking off his pants, something I took pains not to witness when he disrobed around me because of the strength of my desire actually to witness what might be exposed in that act. Something that I had a feeling I would like very much, seeing as I liked the rest of him as much as I did. Something also that I would have in future, but now I was sensing I could not.

“You were right,” I blurted. “About Dora,” I explained. “She’s much safer in The Enchantments.”

He stilled, fingers at his buttons, but they were now down about his stomach.

“Though I would have liked to say farewell to her,” I muttered.

“Ah.” He turned away. “The Nadirii caveat.”

“I’m sorry?”

He continued unbuttoning, repeating, “The Nadirii caveat.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He again shifted to face me, doing this shrugging his shirt off his broad shoulders and exposing his wide chest with its fascinating adornments of ink on one side, a vision that was beyond titillating. Something I now allowed myself to admit fully. Something, now that I’d allowed myself to admit it fully, was frustrating as, before our estrangement, I could have done something about it, and now, I could not.

“I am right,” he said, taking my attention from his chest and tattoos in order to look at his face. “Though,” he stressed that word. “You should not have said or done something…but. Though. But. The Nadirii caveat. I cannot just be right, and you cannot simply be wrong. There seems always to be a caveat that makes you right and me the one who has done wrong.”

I realized that it would not be beneficial in this situation to lose my temper.

But sadly, I was losing my temper.

I mean truly?

The Nadirii caveat?

“I’m being honest,” I said tightly.

“This is regrettably the truth,” he muttered, moving his hands to his pants.

That didn’t make me angry.

That stung.

“Ow,” I whispered.

His eyes caught mine.

When they did, if it could be credited (which I was in no place to credit it in that moment), I would have sworn I saw a minuscule flinch.

I took a step back, saying, “Jasmine will likely still be awake. She’ll visit the pixies with me.”

“Elena—”