Kane
The dungeon air was cold, oppressiveâeach breath feeling heavier than the last. There was something about the weight of the stone walls that made everything feel more real. More dangerous. Dorian's cell was a familiar sight by now, but today, it felt different.
Today, I wasn't alone.
Fallon stood beside me, her sharp blue eyes trained on the space in front of us. The tension between us was palpable. I could feel the unease radiating from her, even though she held herself with the calm composure of a warrior. But there was something thereâsomething that didn't belong. Something unspoken. I couldn't put my finger on it yet, but it was a problem. And I was trying not to let it get to me.
I glanced at her, briefly meeting her gaze before turning back to Dorian's cell. "Ready?" I asked, my voice quiet but firm. I didn't need her to answer. Fallon was always ready. At least, she was always good at pretending she was.
"I've been ready for this since we found out he was involved," she replied, her voice steadyâtoo steady, like she was forcing it. I didn't need to be a mind reader to know she was struggling with something beneath the surface. But I had no time to figure it out now.
We were here for answers.
As we approached the cell, Dorian's eyes lifted, catching our movement. There was no surprise in his gaze, just the usual smirkâa façade that made him seem far too comfortable in this place.
"Well, well," he said, his voice dry. "Visitors. To what do I owe the honor?"
I didn't bother with pleasantries. "You know why we're here, Dorian," I said, my tone flat. "We need answers. Now."
He tilted his head, his smile deepening, like he knew something we didn't. "Answers, huh?" He leaned forward slightly, his chains rattling with the movement. "And why would I just give them to you?"
"Because you have no choice," Fallon interjected, her voice calm, but with a bite to it. She was good at hiding her emotions, but I could sense her nerves bubbling just beneath the surface. Dorian was good at reading people, and it wouldn't take much for him to see the tension in her.
But he wasn't the only one noticing things. I felt the weight of his eyes on Fallon, and it hit me in a place I didn't want to acknowledge. He was watching her more closely than he should have been, and the way he looked at her made something inside me tighten.
"You know," Dorian drawled, eyes flicking from me to Fallon, "the little trainee is your partner now, huh? What's going on between the two of you?"
The question was out before I could stop it, and I felt Fallon stiffen beside me. For a moment, I could see itâher heart skipping, a brief flicker of something in her eyes that was too fast for me to catch.
I hated that I saw it. I hated that it made me feel something sharp in my chest.
I forced myself to look at Dorian, focusing on the cold, empty edge of my voice. "Don't be ridiculous," I said, cutting through his mockery. "Fallon's just my trainee. She means nothing to me beyond that."
The words left my mouth, and immediately, something felt wrong. The air shifted. Fallon's body tensed beside me, and I could see it in her eyes before she masked itâa sharp, immediate hurt. It wasn't just that Dorian had askedâit was the way I had responded. My words hit her like a slap, and I could feel the weight of them between us, pressing down harder than I'd intended.
She took a step back, and I could almost hear the way her heart stuttered, the hurt behind her eyes that she was trying to hide. I knew what I had done. I knew what it cost her to hear me say that, even though it wasn't true.
But it was necessary.
I couldn't afford to show Dorian any kind of weakness, especially not now. Fallon couldn't afford to be seen as anything more than my trainee. It had to stay that way. She wasn't ready for what came with this life, and I wasn't going to let anything distract her. Not now. Not when Dorian could use anything to his advantage.
The silence stretched between us, and I could feel Fallon's anger building, but also a hurt that I knew she wouldn't show.
I turned back to Dorian, trying to focus. Trying to ignore the way Fallon's disappointment clung to me like a shadow. "Start talking," I growled, my tone dropping to something darker. "We're not here for games."
But Dorian wasn't fazed. He leaned back against the stone wall, his smirk returning, eyes flicking back to Fallon like he could see right through me. "You really think this is about you?" he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "The cracks in your armor aren't the ones I'm worried about."
I could feel Fallon's discomfort, the way she was barely holding it together, but I kept my gaze fixed on Dorian, unwilling to show that the way she'd pulled away from me had affected me. I couldn't afford it. I couldn't afford any more distractions.
Fallon stepped forward, her voice calm but dangerous. "We need information, Dorian. The longer you stay quiet, the worse it's going to be for you."
Dorian didn't flinch, but I saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes. He knew we were pushing him, but he was still in control. For now.
I kept my gaze locked on him, trying not to think about the hurt I'd caused Fallon, about the way she had pulled away from me. I had to protect herâprotect us bothâby keeping this simple. By making it clear that there was nothing between us, nothing that could distract me. Not while Dorian's games were still on the table.
And yet, deep down, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd just made a mistake that might cost me more than I was willing to pay.