Page 153 of Harbinger

And I hate him for it—just a little. Just enough to maintain this new space I’ve put between us. Because he’ll never break. Never give in. Never step over that line.

And fuck, I want him to. After the weeks spent training, every day. His body pressing against mine to fix my form but reminding me that I’m alive in all the right ways. His gruff brand of friendship making me glad that I am.

“I need to go.” His voice is quiet, strained like this is costing him something, too. “I have business.”

Sadness curves my mouth into the barest smile. “Of course you do,” I say softly, adding a silent again. It’s not escaped my notice that there’s a crisis every time we get too close. “When will you be back?”

“I don’t know.” He turns when I frown at this and picks up the coat he abandoned on one of the stone wolves guarding the entrance. “There’s been another one.”

I freeze. “Another what?”

But even at this angle, something in his face tells me before he speaks. “Another murder.”

The news hits me like a cold splash of water, dousing the embers smoldering at my core. “Where?”

Not Damalis again. Please not Damalis.

His chest heaves as he sighs. “In Ardermare.”

It feels like bodies are showing up everywhere but here. As if heart collectors are afraid to step foot in Marius territory and face its wolves. Or maybe they’re afraid of facing Bishop himself.

“Do you think this killer is a scion?”

His mouth flattens into a thin line. “You’ve been talking to Hadrian.”

“I’ve been putting two and two together, because I’m not as oblivious as you both think I am.” I cross my arms over my chest, wincing a little when my biceps strain. I hate that he has a point about the soreness. “But yes, I’ve been talking to Hadrian. Is that a problem?”

Bishop scowls. “I don’t think you’re oblivious.” He pauses. “And I’m not keeping anything from you.”

I arch a brow. Except that mouth. Those hands. Stars, I have to get this out of my system before he ruins me.

“I’m not keeping anything from you anymore,” he corrects himself, misinterpreting my glazed stare. “You’ve had enough on your mind. Heart collectors don’t seem like top priority, since you …”

He doesn’t finish the thought, but he doesn’t have to.

Since I decided to stay.

Since everything became so much more complicated and keeps getting even more complicated every day.

Since Kieren …

His name is enough to remind me why I still care. Why I keep showing up here when my body wants to collapse. Why I can’t be the one to cross the line. Why I can’t let myself be weak ever again.

“I still care who assassinated the king,” I murmur, even if I’m not foolish enough to believe catching the killer will restore my reputation anymore. The idea that he thinks I stopped caring, that I just gave up, lands heavy on my chest. “Even if I’m not going home.”

He runs his tongue over his lower lip, eyes drifting inward.

“Aren’t you going to ask to come with me?” he finally says, like maybe he wants me to this time.

The tightness at my core begins to throb.

Too soon.

I want to ignore the tiny voice that says he’s asking me to step over that line. Want to believe I’m ready to give in to whatever this is, to whatever we both know is happening between us.

My eyes find my feet, instead, afraid he’ll see right through me. “The ground will freeze soon. I’m nearly done in the garden, but if I don’t get the rest of the new plants in the soil before it does …”

Bishop tips his head, even as his throat slides. My eyes track the movement. “Don’t overwork yourself out there, either,” he says. “You need rest.”