“It’s not like the Order’s discussing your future this time,” he says. “You can relax a little. They just want to question you about Lennon and Thane.”

I’d like to repeat what I said—that I have nothing new to add—but I don’t. The Order wants to know how many followers Lennon has in the Underworld, and what exactly is the extent of her powers.

I want to know that too, but for a very different reason.

Now that everyone knows about Lennon being an abomination, will the Order continue to demonize half human, half Valryn? Or do they hope to use the powers Lennon possesses in some way? Was that why they kept her alive all along? To study her?

“What will they do to her?” I ask.

Shy mistakes my question for concern. “Don’t think about her. She can’t hurt you.”

“I’m not saying what Lennon did was right, but…experimentation, torture…those aren’t punishments, Shy.”

He doesn’t respond. Clearly, we think differently. After a moment, he rises to his feet and approaches me. Every bit of me comes alive in his presence, and it’s hard to breathe. He reaches for me, places his free hand on my waist, drawing me close so our bodies touch.

I stare at his chest, not wanting to meet his gaze. There are things we haven’t discussed, understandings we haven’t made, relationships we haven’t defined. I feel his fingers under my chin. He tilts my head upward, and then I’m caught in his gaze—a fly in a spider’s web.

“Just worry about today,” he says.

He removes his fingers from my chin, but I don’t look away.

“I’m sorry.” My mouth quivers as I speak, and Shy’s gaze melts me.

“I know,” he says and kisses me. He doesn’t pull me any closer or crush me to him, conscious of our wounds, but his lips on mine are warm and solid. Heat rushes through me, and I lean farther into him, rising onto the tips of my toes just to have more, to taste deeper. I sigh into his mouth, and the urge to crush myself to him is overwhelming. Too bad the pain in my shoulder overrides me.

Someone clears their throat, and we break apart to find Bastian in the doorway. He is in his Valryn form. I have only seen Bastian in his human form once—blond and blue-eyed, he looks far more grounded sporting black-framed glasses than he does sporting weapons and long, silver hair.

“It will never be a good idea for you two to stand that close, but it is an especially bad idea here.”