I knew the door was locked before I even tried the handle. Still, I jiggled it anyway, because apparently I liked disappointing myself over and over again.

  The lock gave a smug little click against my palm every time I tried.

  “Of course,” I muttered. “Prison, but with better furniture.”

  I was halfway through weighing whether I could fit out the window when the latch turned from the outside.

  Thorne filled the doorway first, tall enough that he didn’t even have to scowl to block the light from the hall. Riven stood just behind him, silver eyes doing that laser-scan thing that made me feel like he was peeling my soul like an onion, one patient layer at a time.

  “You’re coming with us,” Thorne said, not bothering with a greeting.

  I arched a brow. “What if I don’t want to?”

  “Then you sit here staring at the wall all day,” Thorne said. “Your choice.”

  The door started to close again.

  “Wait,” I blurted, before I could stop myself. “Where to?”

  Thorne’s grin was slow, a little smug. “Somewhere less boring for us. We’re stuck babysitting, might as well do it somewhere with a couch.”

  I didn’t like the sound of babysitting, but the promise of freedom, however limited, was enough to get me moving. Bagel trotted after us, tail high, clearly pleased by the change of scenery.

  They led me down two turns and into a wide room with tall windows, mismatched armchairs, and a fire smoldering low in the grate. It was warmer here, cozier, like the sort of place people might actually choose to spend time.

  Riven claimed one of the chairs without a word, papers immediately in his lap. Thorne leaned against the mantel, watching me the way a cat watches a bird, interested, amused, maybe a little predatory.

  “So,” Thorne said, after letting the silence stretch uncomfortably, “what’s your story, princess?”

  “I’m not a princess,” I said automatically, sitting down in the furthest chair from them.

  “Sure you are,” he said, pushing off the mantel and circling me slowly. “You’ve got the look. The attitude. And…” His grin deepened as he inhaled, slow and deliberate. “You smell like trouble.”

  “Maybe that’s just smoke from the fire,” I said flatly.

  Thorne chuckled. “No. Trouble has a sharper scent. A sweeter one.” His eyes flicked to me, lingering just a beat too long. “Fits you.”

  I shifted in my chair, wishing the heat on my face was only from the fireplace.

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  Riven’s pen scratched steadily, the only sound in the room besides the low pop of the fire. Bagel padded over to a chair leg and stretched, claws digging just enough to make the wood creak. The quiet should have been grounding, but it only made me more aware of Thorne’s gaze tracking me.

  “You staring at me for sport?” I snapped, trying to break the tension.

  Thorne’s grin widened. “Sport? No. More like… study.”

  Riven finally glanced up from his papers, silver eyes flicking between us. “You talk too much,” he said, tone flat, before dropping his attention back to the page.

  I rolled my eyes, but the warmth on my face only deepened.

  Thorne wasn’t finished. “The way you bristle whenever I talk to you? That’s trouble. The way you keep holding yourself like you’ll bolt at any second? More trouble.” His grin tilted. “And the way you’re pretending you’re not listening? That’s the most dangerous kind of trouble.”

  “Or maybe you’re just imagining things,” I said quickly.

  “Maybe.” His voice dropped, lower, teasing. “Or maybe I’d like to find out what else you’re hiding.”

  Before I could snap back, Bagel leapt neatly into the space between us, tail swishing. When Thorne reached out with a cocky little gesture, she swatted his hand with a quick, disdainful flick of claws.

  Thorne jerked his hand back with a laugh. “She’s got your temper.”

  Riven didn’t look up from his papers. “You provoke everyone.”

  “It’s a gift,” Thorne said, still grinning.

  I folded my arms, eager to redirect. “Why isn’t Grabber here?”

  That finally got Riven to look at me, though his expression gave nothing away. Thorne only shrugged, as if the question amused him.

  “He’s got his reasons,” Thorne said lightly.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “It’s the only one you’re getting.”

  I scowled. “You two always cover for him like this? What’s he doing that you can’t tell me?”

  Thorne tilted his head, still studying me. “Why do you care so much?”

  “I don’t,” I snapped. “I just… I don’t like being left in the dark.”

  “Then you’ll get used to disappointment,” Riven said smoothly, returning his gaze to his papers.

  The bluntness stung, but I pushed anyway. “So what? He disappears. You don’t know where. You don’t know why. That doesn’t seem suspicious to you?”

  “We know where,” Riven corrected without looking at me. “We just don’t share everything with strangers.”

  I bristled. “I’m not a stranger anymore.”

  Thorne’s grin sharpened. “Oh? What does that make you, then?”

  I hesitated, too long, judging by the spark of triumph in his eyes.

  “Thought so,” he said. Then, softer, almost thoughtful: “Soren keeps his own counsel. Always has. But if he’s keeping you this close? There’s a reason. He doesn’t waste effort.”

  I frowned. “And what kind of reason is that?”

  Neither of them spoke right away. Riven’s silence pressed heavier than words; Thorne’s grin slipped into something unreadable, his gaze briefly flicking to the fire.

  Finally, Thorne said, “Let’s just say… he doesn’t stop looking for what he wants. Ever.”

  “And if he finds it?”

  Thorne’s eyes lingered on me, his smirk returning like a mask sliding back into place. “Then you’ll find out.”

  The words sat like a weight in my chest.

  Bagel purred against me, grounding me, even as the silence stretched. The fire crackled. The scratch of Riven’s pen filled the room.

  For a moment, I let myself imagine I was anywhere else, some cozy lounge, with two strangers who weren’t wolves, and a cat who wasn’t the only thing keeping me sane.

  But reality pressed close. These men knew more than they were saying. They were hiding things about Grabber, about themselves, about me.

  And one day, I was going to rip every secret out of them.

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