I don’t want to promise. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to argue, to demand he let me help, to refuse to sit here useless while he walks into Goddess knows what.
But there’s something in his face — genuine fear. Fear for me.
“Promise me, Ember.”
The words feel like glass in my throat.
“I promise.”
He stares at me for a long moment, like he’s checking whether I mean it, like he’s memorizing my face just in case. Then his expression softens just a fraction.
“I’ll be careful.”
“You’d better be.” My voice comes out fiercer than I intended. “I mean it, Knox. You’d better f*****g be careful, because if you die out there, I swear to the Goddess I’ll find a way to bring you back just so I can kill you myself.”
That almost-smile tugs at the corner of his mouth again.
“Noted.”
“P
