Chapter 25 · Under My Lock

The lock clicked at 2:14 a.m. Two turns, a pause, a third. Torin’s sequence—he wanted me to know exactly who was stepping into my room.

He filled the doorway, blocking the dim hallway light. His collar was undone, sleeves shoved to his elbows, and rain dripped from his hair to the floorboards. He didn't step in, just watched me with eyes like cold flint.

“Say it again,” he demanded. Not a greeting. Not a question.

“I’m not repeating myself, Torin.”

“To my face, Briar.”

I pushed my chair back, the movement a slow ache in my lower back. I was tired of the guessing games, tired of the way he looked at me like a puzzle he had to force into place. “I’m not telling you who gave me the abortifacient. Drop it.”

“Not the herbs.” He crossed the room, the scent of pine and damp wool thickening the air. He stopped a foot away—close enough to feel his heat, too close to think. “The reason your pulse goes wrong every time I get near you. The secret you swallowed.”

He knew. He’d been listening to my heart since I got here.