Goddamit.
Caelin sat up slowly, giving me space, which was both respectful and deeply annoying because I was still emotionally unprepared for respectful men with criminal forearms.
“I need to ask you something,” he said.
“No.”
His mouth twitched.
“You don’t know what it is.”
“I know your tone. Your tone has paperwork.”
“It’s not paperwork.”
“Worse, then.”
He looked down for a second, and when his eyes came back to mine, the humor had softened into something careful.
“Aria’s Luna ceremony is tonight. In Greenwood.”
My stomach did a very legal, very professional somersault.
“Tonight.”
“Yes.”
“As in today tonight.”
“As in today tonight.”
I stared at him.
He did not rush to fill the silence, which was rude because silence was my weapon and he had no right to become competent w
