“What.”
“I can’t be in the packhouse.” I say evenly.
Nathan stares at me like I just suggested something reckless.
“Lainey.”
“No.” I interrupt, forcing steadiness into my voice. “He can have all the guards on me that he wants. He can assign patrols and surveillance and whatever else makes him feel like he’s in control. But there is only one choice.”
“You’re not serious.” Nathan says flatly.
“I am.”
I swing my legs over the side of the bed again and stand carefully, testing the room for dizziness.
Ezra is nowhere near this wing. The air is steady. No nausea. No electric recoil.
“I need to get out of here.” I say.
Nathan moves toward me instinctively.
“You think distance is going to fix a magical interference.” He challenges.
“I think proximity is making it worse.” I reply. “And
