“Max!” she calls to me, scowling. “How can you say that? I just hardly tripped and you knew to catch me.”

“It’s my killer instinct,” I reply with a wry chuckle.

She rolls her eyes. “That’s a bit bleak, isn’t it?”

She doesn’t get it, does she? I’m not likethem, I can’t – I can’t save her. I’m destructive, I hurt people, Iburn. I shrug at her and she steps up to me, reaching to take my hand in hers. I pull back, nearly hissing with the almost-touch, and her eyes go wide again.

I sigh. “Mili, listen. I’m not here to care for you, like Cory or Port. I’m not affectionate, I don’t – I can’t be what you need. I’m here to keep the people I care about the hell out of trouble,then I go back to minding my own business. I’m not caring, not gentle. I’m not like them.”

“But you do,” Mili says, “you do care about me.”

“I don’t,” I spit back, desperate to make her understand.

Somehow, she doesn’t budge, doesn’t run away. Instead, she just takes a small step towards me.

“What, Mili?” I ask, voice shaking slightly.

She steps even closer, her scent overpowering me, the cinnamon and chocolate I already can’t resist wafting over me like perfume. My breath hitches and I tilt my head to face as far away from her as possible. In response, she takes her hands and gently turns my face to hers.

“Don’t run from me,” she whispers. “I’m not as delicate as you might think, Max. I won’t break.”

I exhale shakily as she brushes my bottom lip with her thumb. I choke back a groan, barely able to restrain myself from taking her, here and now, and I storm off through the clearing to the volcano.

It’s better this way, isn’t it? Safer, calmer. She doesn’t deserve someone like me.

I feel her watching me, but I don’t look back.

CHAPTER 22: MILI

Afew days have passed since my encounter with Max in the woods, and I haven’t run into him since. I’ve almost missed him, or at least I’ve yearned to see him again, to get to know him a little better. We didn’t have muchconversationduring our last meeting, instead rolling about violently in the woods, trying to beat each other in our wild skirmish.

I liked him, though, in a weird way. That’s why I asked him to train me, anyway – he was snarky, clearly, but I saw some deep truthfulness in his eyes. He meant everything he said, just not exactlyhowhe said it; he was right that I can’t protect myself, he was right that he could’ve had me, however he liked me, then and there.

I almost suspect that he’s avoiding me, though; I suppose you could call it a gut instinct from our meeting. I could tell, even in that one encounter, that he was terrified to hurt me, to scare me.

And then I asked him to dojust that, by training me in the forest. For some reason, he actually agreed. I almost felt bad for asking, since I know it would terrify him, but he’s right –I can’t defend myself, at least, not well enough. My magick used to be powerful, but I’m out of shape and out of practice, since I’dbeen so focused on caring for the townsfolk and not my rituals. Besides, I need more than just spells to defend myself if it comes down to it: I need to know how to fight.

I had a few herbal sachets with me when I arrived at the volcano, but I’ve been collecting more in the woods everyday, too. I go out, usually alone (though I expect I’m followed by either Max or Cory), but sometimes I ask Port to join me. He always accepts.

Together, we walk through the woods, picking mushrooms and ferns and flowers and lichen. I couldn’t find a basket in the entire volcano, but I borrowed a few bowls from the kitchen and wove handles for them out of the many,manygarments brought to me by Cory. Hopefully he doesn’t notice that a few of them have been used for scraps –even if he did, though, I have a strange suspicion he wouldn’t mind that much.

Cory has decided to keep me at arm’s length ever since our kiss. He said he needs time to figure out how to help me save Ethelinda, and that he needs to do that away from me as much as possible. Port tells me about what he gets up to with Max and Cory in the evenings, and I laugh at the silly stories he has. They get drunk on blackberry wine and rye whiskey, then the three of them sing and dance until the witching hour with the other guardians. Pack life suits all three of them, I can tell. If I’m honest, I feel like it would suit me as well. It is a strange feeling, to yearn to be part of their pack as much as I do, given that before meeting Cory I never thought about pack life.

I asked Port once, if Cory has a lot of ... “relations,” and Port went horribly quiet. That one shadow guardian, Kalli, was so horrible to me, I couldn’t help but get suspicious. To have itconfirmed was a punch to the gut that I wasn’t suspecting. I’m not a jealous person, not really. It just almost makes me sad for him, to know that he engages in shallow intimacies like that. I mean it must be a shallow intimacy, right? I know what that means, especially because I’ve made mistakes of my own in that department, so I know what I’m talking about.

The thought of him having sex just to have it makes my stomach turn, especially when I remember seeing the genuine passion and fire in his dark blue eyes, or when I recall tracing the sharp curve of his nose with my eyes, or when I imagine his tongue running over the backs of my thighs with its dangerous, penetrating heat. And that heavenly, all-consuming kiss! I didn’t used to care about that passion, I realize suddenly. Why is it mattering to me, now?

“Mili?” Port asks, breaking me out of my trance.

I shake my head to clear it and force a smile. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Port smiles softly. “I wasn’t saying anything. You just looked a little ... out of it.”

In response, I shrug and pluck a gooseberry off a vine.

“You know,” he continues quietly, “you could join us for dinner, if you’d like. I’m sure Max and Cory would love that.”

I peer up at him through my dark tresses, my skepticism written all over my face. He laughs at me, which makes me crack a grin, but I just shake my head.