Silas crouched down in front of me the way Ronan once had on a different dark road months and a lifetime ago, and the deliberate echo of it made my skin crawl worse than his smile did, worse than the men circling silently behind him.
You're bleeding, he said, almost gentle, almost concerned, in a way that felt calculated rather than sincere, like concern was simply another tool he kept sharpened for exactly this kind of moment. Ronan's people aren't very good at keeping their most valuable asset safe, are they, letting you ride off alone into contested territory like this.
I'm not anyone's asset, I said, pushing myself upright despite the ache screaming through my ribs where I had hit the guardrail, refusing to let him see how badly it hurt.
No, he agreed, tilting his head as he studied
