Page 55 of Entangled

“You’re not hurt?” Her eyes roam more boldly over me, searching for injury. Her breaths are coming more steadily now, as she focuses on the present. Onme. “It’s hard to tell, beneath the dirt.”

“I’m well, Eden, thank you. That’s sweaty, dirty, and uninjured. Give me two more.”

And I’m not hurt, but it slices me sweetly that her first thought is to me, tomywell-being and not her own. This thoughtful, selfless girl whose kindness is like sandpaper against my selfishness, even after the hell she’s walked through.

She tilts her head, considering me. The crinkles in her forehead soften. “You look exhausted.”

I suppose dashing, brave, or handsome was too much to hope for.

I incline my head. “I’m far from at my best. It’s been some days since I bathed—or slept, for that matter.”

“Because you came for me.”

The words are a whisper, and there’s so much sudden emotion laden in her voice, in the taut lines of her face, that I feel my throat grow thick.

“Always.” The word is a promise, binding as if I had scored my arm open to the bone and bled for it. I meet her eyes again. “Always, Eden.”

Her mouth works, and the lines of her throat tense as she tries to hold herself back. As if, for some reason, my words are a surprise. Her gaze drops to my chest, to the silly, non-regulation sunshine yellow flower pin Lucky decided to affix to the front that I hadn’t the heart to remove.

Her breath leaves her in a short, harsh exhale.

“Lucky.” Her voice breaks. “You’re wearing his uniform.”

That does make a valid fifth observation.

Whatever had been holding her back, holding herupuntil that moment fails, and her face breaks too, her eyes finally flooding with tears. I step in to catch her, but she steps back.

Awayfrom me.

Something in my chest ruptures as she presses her hand to her mouth, her head bent and shoulders bunched and shaking as she collapses into silent, full-body sobs. I feel every quiet gasp like a slap.

How badly did I defile the trust between us?

“And that quality psychology seems about on par with what I’d expect.”

The edged, vicious rage that spikes through me at that snarky voice tells me who it is before I’m even able to brush off my dusty memories. I give the malicious witch a frigid glance over Eden’s bent head.

“Dominic, keep that woman away from me before I do something ill advised.”

It’s an effort to keep my voice even, but I refuse to upset Eden further. Heather has always tested the absolute limits of my patience—and that’s even without considering the ways in which she hurt Lucien.

That, I will never forgive.

Even if I have to take on hell itself, I will not allow Heather to harm anyone I love ever again. Not Lucien... and not Eden.

I hear the frustrated exhale behind me before Dominic pushes past. “Heat, let’s get these people somewhere more secure. We need to account for all the Sinners who were in that camp. Let’s check the camp for food and weapons too—minus the soup. Let’s confiscate what we can.”

Their voices fall away amid the bustle of the group around us, and I focus on the crying girl in front of me.

“Eden? Eden, what?—?”

“The circus rat is fine,” Jaykob says gruffly, and I jump at how close he is. He’s leaning up on a tree, watching Eden with a tight expression on his face.

She freezes, then lifts her head. “What did you say?”

Jaykob crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs one shoulder. “That’s what you’re blubbering about, right? The puppy is fine. He’s back at Bristlebrook on a time out. With any luck, the doc’ll stitch his mouth shut next.”

Guilt pricks me, and irritation at myself. Of course she didn’t know. And of course she assumed the worst at their absence. It should have been the first thing out of my mouth.

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