Page 37 of Panther in the Shadows
"I want to." She's shaking again, but different now. "Want to explain. Want to make you understand. But I don't understand it myself. Just know that this is too much. Too fast. Too complicated. And I'm terrified of what I'm feeling."
"Fear makes sense." My voice comes rougher than intended. "This situation is complicated. You're grieving. This isn't the time for any of this."
The moment breaks. She won’t meet my eyes. Real world returns.
"I should go. Back to the inn. Back to what's familiar." She moves toward the door.
"No." The word comes out harder than intended.
She stops. Turns. "What?"
"You're not walking across this island alone. Not tonight. Not with a summoner who knows we were at that cove, who killed someone right in front of us, who just used your sister's corpse to taunt you." I cross my arms to keep from reaching for her. "You stay here. Guest room. Lock on the inside if it makes you feel better."
"I don't need?—"
"I know what you need." The words come out rough. "And right now, what you need is to not be alone and vulnerable when someone with necromantic power is hunting Flynn blood."
Her jaw sets. Silence stretches between us while her pride wars with practicality.
"Fine." The word comes out tight. "But only because you're right about the danger."
"Understood." I don't point out that she doesn't actually have a choice.
She gathers her bag without meeting my eyes. Moves past me toward the hallway, careful not to let our bodies touch.
At the threshold, she pauses. Looks back. "Thank you. For tonight. For trying to save him. For getting me out of there when I would have done something stupid."
"For now."
"And for... not letting me do something else stupid. Like walking home alone."
The admission costs her. I can see it in the set of her shoulders.
"Get some rest," I say instead of all the things I want to say. "We'll figure out next steps in the morning."
"Rafe." My name stops me from turning away. Her eyes meet mine, and the conflict there is clear even in the dim light. "What happened tonight. Between us. That can't?—"
"That isn't finished. Whatever it is, it's not done."
Her breath catches. For a moment, I think she'll argue. Then she just nods and steps inside. The door closes with a soft click, followed by the lock engaging a moment later.
Smart woman.
I stand there longer than necessary, listening to her move around the room. The creak of the bed as she sits. The rustle of fabric as she undresses. Every sound heightened by predator senses that won't let me stop tracking her location.
My panther prowls beneath my skin, torn between satisfaction that she's here, safe, within range, and frustration that there's a locked door between us.
This is dangerous. Letting her stay here. Letting her matter this much.
But the alternative—letting her leave, watching her walk away unprotected—was never actually an option.
Tomorrow, she'll probably argue about going back to the inn. About not needing protection. About maintaining her independence.
And I'll let her win that argument.
But tonight? Tonight she stays where I can keep her safe.
Tomorrow, we hunt the summoner with the brotherhood's help. Tomorrow, we work on stopping the ritual before more people die. Tomorrow, we figure out who's using Elspeth as a weapon and how to end them permanently.
