Page 138 of Problematic

Those words hit harder than the bullet had.

Vale didn’t pause. “That car was near Harlow Street. Someone pulled her work records. Those are not guesses anymore. They are steps. Whoever is watching may not know she is your mate, but they know something moved around her.”

My head turned and I stared back down the street toward the café. Back toward her. My jaw tightened until pain lanced up the side of my face. Half a block. That was all. Half a block of sidewalk, glass, traffic, strangers, and weak locks between me and the only thing in this city I could not afford to lose.

I could go back.

The thought came fast. I could walk through the front door, take her by the waist, throw her over my shoulder, and carry her out while she screamed, kicked, cursed my name. I could have her in the tower in minutes. Behind my wards. Under my roof. Breathing and locked away.

Alive. Safe. Mine.

My hand twitched.

No.

If I dragged her out of that café, every watching eye would know she mattered. If I said her name over the network, every bored guard, every ambitious clerk, every demon with a price and a secret debt would know where to look. If I left her alone, she might not make it to four o’clock.

The bond burned under my collar, vicious and bright, punishing me for standing still. For not going straight back to her.

If she saw me now, if the bond finished before she chose, I would become another thing that happened to her instead of someone she walked toward.

None of that helped me now.

Because Liv Heart was behind glass, wiping down a counter like the world hadn’t already opened its mouth around her, and I had no move left that didn’t risk ruining us.

Not one.

Only bad choices wearing different masks. And for the first time in years, I didn’t know which monster I needed to be.

She could make it. I hoped for that much. Just a few measly hours between work and when she got off at four.

Her choice.

I had wanted to give her the day, or at least a few hours, before I had to tell her everything, but it was either that or risk losing her before she could even make a choice.

That was the only decent thing left in me. The thin, ugly line I had drawn in blood and lies. I would not, could not force her into a life where a target was painted on her back, a life where the spotlight would always be on her, a life where her mate’s favorite hobbies involved stalking, murder and diplomatic intimidation. But enemies did not wait for permission, and neither did their bullets.

“Keep her hidden until she makes her choice,” I said. “Or until the world forces my hand.”

Vale’s face changed. He understood that I was going against my nature and trying to be decent.

“If it comes to that,” he said carefully, “she will hate you.”

“She already hates me.”

“Not like that.”

The bond burned beneath my collar. I looked back toward the café again. “Better she hates me alive than loves me dead.”

Vale said nothing, because there was nothing useful he could say. I had dug myself a grave, and now I was being forced to lie in it.

“Keep everything quiet. No tower uniforms, no obvious guards.”

He made a note. “Coffee shop?”

“No visible security. No one makes Liv feel caged.”

“She already feels caged.”