Chapter 17
1098 Words
Rhaegar stared at the coffee for a second longer before looking back at me.
Then, to my growing disbelief, he picked up the mug and slid it farther away from where I stood.
The steam stopped following me immediately.
I pointed at it. “You saw that.”
“Yes.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“What response are you expecting?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, throwing my hands up slightly. “Concern? Alarm? Maybe a little panic?”
“There’s no reason to panic.”
“The coffee is reacting to me.”
“The steam,” he corrected calmly. “Not the coffee.”
I stared at him. “That somehow feels worse.”
Another flicker of amusement crossed his face before he turned back toward the stove like this conversation wasn’t derailing my entire understanding of reality before breakfast.
I watched him for another second in disbelief before dropping into one of the chairs near the table, pulling my legs in slightly beneath me. The oversized sleeves of his shirt kept sliding over my hands, and I shoved them back again with growing irritation.
Rhaegar noticed.
Of course he did.
“That color suits you.”
My head snapped up so fast I nearly forgot what we’d been talking about. “What?”
His attention stayed on the pan in front of him. “The shirt.”
Heat rushed instantly into my face.
I looked down automatically at the dark fabric like it had personally betrayed me before glaring back at him. “You can’t just say things like that casually.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s weird.”
“You think compliments are weird?”
“No,” I muttered. “I think you saying them is weird.”
That almost-smile appeared again, quick enough that I almost missed it entirely.
“You’re adjusting surprisingly well.”
“I’m really not.”
“You argued with sentient steam for almost two minutes.”
“I think that was a reasonable reaction.”
A quiet laugh escaped him then. Not loud, not dramatic, but real enough that it caught me completely off guard.
I stared.
Rhaegar noticed immediately. “What?”
Now it was my turn to point accusingly. “You laughed.”
One dark brow lifted slightly. “That’s usually what happens when something is funny.”
“That’s my line.”
“And now it’s mine.”
I narrowed my eyes at him while he finally moved the pan away from the stove and started dividing food between two plates with entirely too much composure for someone who apparently spent his free time revealing life-changing truths and terrifying strangers in alleys.
The domesticity of this was becoming genuinely concerning.
“You’re staring again,” he said without looking up.
“I’m trying to figure out if you’re secretly making all of this up.”
“That would be an elaborate commitment to a joke.”
“You haven’t ruled it out.”
Rhaegar carried both plates to the table before setting one in front of me. “Eat.”
I looked down at the food automatically before glancing back up at him. “You’re very bossy before caffeine.”
“You’re very argumentative before breakfast.”
“I’m argumentative after breakfast too.”
“I noticed.”
That warmth under my ribs flickered again at the familiar response, softer this time, more aware than sharp. I hated how quickly my body had started reacting to his voice.
Especially when he noticed everything.
I picked up the fork mostly to avoid looking directly at him while he sat across from me. Morning light spilled through the nearby windows now, catching against the dark wood of the table and softening the sharpest edges of the room.
For a few minutes, neither of us spoke.
The silence wasn’t awkward.
That was probably the most alarming thing of all.
I took another bite before glancing toward him again. “So what exactly happens now?”
Rhaegar leaned back slightly in his chair, one hand resting loosely against the side of his coffee mug. “That depends.”
“On?”
“How quickly your fire stabilizes.”
I nearly choked on my drink.
“My what?”
“Your fire.”
“You say that like it’s a normal sentence.”
“For me, it is.”
I dropped my head briefly into one hand before looking back up at him. “Can we not call it that?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what it is.”
I groaned softly under my breath while he took another completely calm sip of coffee.
“You really enjoy this,” I muttered.
“Parts of it.”
“That’s insane.”
“You’ve said that already.”
I looked toward the fireplace automatically at the word fire, only to realize the flames had shifted again while we were talking. They weren’t snapping unpredictably now. Instead, they burned steadier whenever my attention drifted toward them, almost responding to awareness itself.
Rhaegar followed my gaze.
“It’s calmer today,” he observed.
“I’m not.”
“No,” he agreed. “But you’re less afraid of it.”
The realization settled uncomfortably in my chest because he was right again. Yesterday every reaction had startled me. Now I was mostly annoyed.
Which probably said something concerning about my ability to adapt to impossible situations.
A knock sounded suddenly at the front door.
Everything in me went still.
The warmth beneath my ribs sharpened instantly, reacting before my thoughts caught up, and my attention snapped toward the sound hard enough that the flames in the fireplace jumped with me.
Rhaegar was already standing.
The shift in him happened so quickly it barely felt human. One second he’d been relaxed at the table, the next every trace of ease had disappeared beneath something colder and far more dangerous.
My pulse kicked hard against my ribs.
“He found us?” I asked quietly.
Rhaegar’s gaze stayed fixed toward the front of the house, his posture completely still now as silence stretched between the second knock.
Then—
“No,” he said slowly. “This is different.”
That somehow wasn’t comforting either.
I pushed back from the table and stood quickly, my fingers curling against the oversized sleeves as another knock echoed through the house.
Whoever stood outside…
Rhaegar clearly recognized them.
And judging by the expression settling across his face—
He wasn’t happy about it.
- Writer
