In the hallway, Fraschkit scrubbed her eyes. "This is pathetic, isn't it? Why do I always fall for people who will break my heart?"

"You'll find the right person in time," I said, "And it's not pathetic."

Not like falling for a Demon.

I berated myself for the thought. I wasn't falling for him; it was just basic compassion. That was the only reason I didn't want to see him die.

Fraschkit sniffled and forced a smile. "Thanks, Remgar. See you at the entrance in half an hour?"

"See you then."

When I started toward my room, I forced my attention on the task at hand. But as I changed into the full Guardian regalia and packed a small sack of necessities for the night, my mind drifted back to how Isalio had begged me to stay; how his head had fallen onto my lap, so trusting.

If I left without seeing him first, would he spend the whole day and night thinking I had abandoned him? Waiting for torture or death?

Before I could stop myself, I started toward his cell.

I paused before entering Isalio's cell. What if I walked in on him still half-naked, still sponge-bathing with the bucket of water I had left? And the darker recess of my brain asked, 'Or what if he's strung up and mutilated?'

I knocked on the door.

Isalio replied immediately, voice brightened by a barely withheld laugh. "Remgar? Do you need my permission to enter?"

Relief flooded me, drowning out the embarrassment I should have felt. I cracked open the door, sidled through, and dropped my knapsack on the floor. To avoid his eyes, I fixed my gaze on the floor in front of the table. I feared seeing his reaction to what I was about to say. If he looked disappointed or afraid, what would I do?

"I'm leaving." When he didn't immediately respond, I cleared my throat and continued. "They've ordered me to go see my father, so I'll..."

But then I looked up, and what I saw stole my breath.

Isalio's hair was still damp from bathing, and tousled a bit unevenly, softening his sharp facial features. Silky raven locks brushed the collar of the sweatshirt I had given him. The forest green dye brought out his amber eyes like pine trees beneath the setting sun. And First Guardian, the way my clothes fit him...oversized, of course, but in just the right way, with rolled-up sleeves, a waistband tied snug over slim hips, and loose-hanging fabric that somehow looked intentional.

I should never have given him my clothes.

With a rush of shame, I realized I had been staring at him far too long, and I yanked my gaze back up to his face. I was certain I would find him laughing at me, another teasing line already prepared. However, he did not appear to notice my transgression. Instead, he was busy doing a slow scan of my body.

He breathed a whistle. "Sweet dominion, Remgar, that uniform is...do all Guardians look like this?"

I glanced down at my uniform. Aside from a few gold badges decorating my chest, I saw nothing noteworthy about it. The tailored suit coat and matching pants still fit me well, but the navy-blue dye had faded a bit, and the cuffs of the sleeves were fraying.

"We all wear this uniform, yes," I said.

He took a few steps closer and lifted a hand to draw my outline in the air. "But do you all wear it like this?"

The heat in his gaze warmed my skin, both unsettling and enticing me. Several seconds passed before I croaked, "I suppose we each look slightly different."

He rolled his eyes, though a perfect smile teased his lips. "You are obnoxiously good at subverting compliments."

Fuck, that little smile combined with the fondness in his voice...my heart skipped a beat. He edged even closer. Still not quite touching me, he traced the lines of my biceps, my shoulders, my pecs, my abdomen...

His fingers a mere inch from my skin blazed a trail of fire, and the heady interest in his gaze pooled lava in my core. Plenty of Guardians had admired my body, but never with such cautious fascination; with such unwilling reverence.

I should have pushed him away. I wanted to grab his hips and yank him closer. Instead, I just said, "Do all Demons look like you?"

"Ha. It might surprise you to hear this, but I'm considered unusually attractive."

"It doesn't surprise me."

The second the words left my mouth, I chomped down on my tongue. His eyebrows shot up, and his smile spread to a self-satisfied smirk.

"Do you find me attractive, Remgar?"

"Isal—" I stopped myself, remembering my promise.

"It's fine," he said. "You can use my name now. I just didn't want you to use it against me... to pretend you care."

It wasn't a question, not quite, but the uncertainty in his tone dangled in the air between us. Despite his brazen display of confidence, he was desperate for reassurance.

"I already warned you that I'm leaving," I said.

"I know ." He leaned closer, and his fingers brushed mine. "But perhaps before you go, I can kiss you goodbye?"

I forced a choked laugh. "It won't persuade me to stay."

"That's fine by me, if it's fine by you."

His voice held a question I could not interpret much less answer. After a few seconds of silence, he closed the space between us. When his lips nuzzled the corner of my mouth, a hesitant almost-kiss, I hissed an exhale halfway to a whimper.

He pulled back a little, and his eyes found mine. Though this smirk remained, his gaze was probing—contemplative. Whatever he found apparently satisfied him because without breaking eye contact, he lowered himself down onto one knee and then the other.

My heart ratcheted a few notches. Heat swirled in the pit of my core, and an erection strained the front of my pants...so close to his face. To his mouth.

"Do you want me to touch you, Rem?" he said softly. "I can make you feel good. I can make you feel things no Guardian ever has."

His fingers slid under my suit jacket and teased the waistband of my pants. My desire pulsed, uncomfortably hot, craving release. Craving this stunning man.

I blinked, processing my own thoughts. A man? No, not a man.

A Demon.

Cold horror splashed my gut, and bile stung the back of my throat. He was a Demon prince, and his family killed mine. What the fuck was I thinking?

This was worse than the day my mother and brother had been killed. Then I had been a scared child. Now I was old enough to control my actions. Yet here I was, still in control of nothing. My breaths rasped faster and faster, spiraling out of rhythm. My mouth locked shut, and my feet froze to the ground.

Unable to protest; unable to escape.

His hands drifted down, and alarm replaced the lust in his eyes. "Remgar? Fuck, are you alright?"

Soft; concerned. Cuffed and on his knees, asking if I was alright.

He played this game so well.

I swallowed a bitter swell of saliva. "I don't know if I'm weak or just stupid, allowing you to manipulate me so easily."

He blinked, and his brow furrowed. "That's not...I wasn't trying to manipulate you."

"No?" My voice sounded distant to my own ears; warped. "Then what were you trying to do?"

"I enjoy touching you. I thought you were enjoying it, too."

"I told you I would never enjoy the touch of a Demon."

He sank back to his heels and huffed an exhale. "Alright, I clearly took that too far. I'm sorry, Remgar."

The apology pinched my gut, and I fought the urge to pull him off his knees and wrap my arms around him. To reassure him...

I inwardly scoffed at myself. Would I offer to free him, too? Just a harmless Demon. Who was I kidding? He manipulated me with such perfect ease.

"Your apology means nothing to me," I said. "I know you've killed humans. You've probably killed Guardians, too."

Some pathetic part of me wanted him to deny it. And if he did, would I actually be dense enough to believe that denial?

But he didn't deny anything. He just inclined his head slightly, deferential, almost like a servant.

I shook my head, more at myself than at him. "Rakimar and Borgal are right—I need to go see my father. I need to remember what you are."

He bit his lip, and his gaze dipped to the floor. "Alright. Then I guess this is goodbye."

I gave a sharp nod and willed myself to turn toward the door. Don't look at him again. Don't let him manipulate you any more. But I couldn't quite bring myself to leave him like this, waiting alone for torture or death, surrounded by Guardians who didn't care how much he suffered...and abandoned by the one Guardian who did.

"This is not goodbye," I said. "I'll only be gone for one night. You'll see me again tomorrow. You—" I hesitated, drawing a breath...and then I delivered the promise I knew I couldn't keep.

"You won't die underground, Isalio."

His lips hooked a little, a sad imitation of a smirk. "We'll see."