Nate grinned.

The expression caught Aire completely off guard.

Not because he smiled often. He didn’t. She was caught off guard because of the way the grin looked on him. His grin looked almost boyish beneath all that coldness.

Aire tightened her grip slightly on the razor.

"You seem too comfortable handing this to me," she murmured.

Nate leaned further back into the chair lazily, exposing more of his throat to her without hesitation.

"If you wanted me dead," he said calmly, "you would’ve tried harder already."

Aire stared at him for a second longer. She exhaled softly and stepped closer. The scent of cedarwood wrapped around her again immediately.

Closer now, she could see the faint shadow of exhaustion beneath his eyes. It surprised her slightly. Nate always looked composed, controlled, and untouchable.

Yet tonight, sitting carelessly before the mirror while allowing someone else to hold a blade against his throat... He looked strangely human.

Aire swallowed softly before placing one hand lightly against the top of his shoulder to steady herself.

Slowly and firmly, she began shaving.

The blade dragged carefully along the sharp line of his jaw.

Nate’s brows twitched immediately. His eyes flickered upward toward her through the mirror.

Aire ignored him.

The razor moved again, this time harder.

Nate blinked slowly. His gaze lifted toward her again.

There was something almost comical about the look in his eyes now. He was beginning to question whether allowing her near his throat with a weapon had been an excellent idea after all.

Aire remained expressionless. She took another sharp drag of the blade.

Nate’s eyes narrowed slightly at her strong hold. "You seem angry."

"I’m concentrating."

His brows twisted. "That sounds frightening."

Aire refused to smile.

Nate watched her carefully through the mirror again. There was clear suspicion in his eyes now.

Nate looked genuinely concerned about being injured.

Aire moved the blade again.

Nate leaned his head back further carefully. "Should I be worried?"

"You already look worried."

"I am sitting while someone grips my hair like they plan to skin me alive."

Aire’s lips twitched faintly.

Nate caught it immediately.

"There it is," he murmured. "You’re enjoying this." He accused, staring at her smile.

"I’m not."

"You are."

Aire ignored him again and continued shaving carefully. Though truthfully, perhaps she was enjoying it slightly.

There was something deeply satisfying about seeing Nate this still beneath her hands.

Usually he was the unsettling one. Tonight, somehow, she had managed to reverse it. The thought nearly amused her.

Aire dragged the blade carefully downward again, then paused.

The razor slipped slightly.

A sharp line appeared instantly against Nate’s throat.

Aire froze.

Nate clicked his tongue softly. His fingers lifted instinctively toward the cut.

Aire’s eyes widened immediately.

"Let me see," she urged quickly. "Did I cut you?"

Nate glanced at her briefly.

"I’ll heal—"

The reminder stopped halfway through his sentence. The panic on Aire’s face wasn’t fake at all.

Her eyes were fixed completely on the small cut against his throat like she had genuinely harmed him terribly.

Nate stilled.

For a second, he had honestly assumed she did it intentionally. However, no one had ever looked worried about hurting him before.

Aire leaned closer without thinking.

Nate felt her breath brush faintly against his skin. Her fingers touched lightly beneath his jaw as she examined the cut carefully.

She visibly relaxed when the wound disappeared almost immediately beneath her gaze.

Aire exhaled softly in relief. Her fingers remained absentmindedly against his throat.

"You’re as tender as milk," Nate murmured dryly. "Does that mean I’m dying?"

Aire blinked. She immediately snatched her hand away from his throat like she had just realized where it rested.

Heat rose into her face instantly.

"I didn’t mean—"

"I know."

His voice softened slightly. Which somehow made it worse for Aire. She stepped backward immediately.

Nate watched her retreat with poorly hidden amusement.

"You looked devastated." He poked.

Aire brows furrowed slightly. "I was not devastated."

Nate nodded. "You nearly held a funeral." He said dryly, without humor.

Aire frowned at him. "You were bleeding."

"I’ve survived worse."

"That explains the attitude." She rolled her eyes.

Nate barked out a laugh. His laugh was deep and sudden enough to surprise both of them.

Aire stared at him and despite herself, she laughed too. The sound filled the room strangely and easily.

And for one dangerous moment, everything softened. Nate’s expression changed slightly as he watched her laugh quietly.

Silence settled again between them afterward. Nate hated that immediately. He wanted to hear her laugh again.

Most of all, Nate hated this because he found himself thinking about her when he had no right to, and now, she graced his presence.

He didn’t want her close, yet his mind kept placing her where she didn’t belong, and now, she stood before him and all he wanted was to be this way forever.

It bothered him how easily she slipped into his thoughts, as though she had never been warned to stay out of them.

He kept telling himself it was nothing, but nothing should have felt like this. Feeling his unrestrained with her privately shouldn’t be an option.

She has a curse on her head. Also, she’s without a wolf.

Nate hated the way she existed in his awareness without permission. She was not supposed to matter this much, and that was exactly the problem.

Nate did not allow attachment, yet she kept finding ways to remain in his head. It unsettled him how often she appeared in his thoughts when he had done absolutely nothing to invite her there.

He should have been indifferent, but his mind refused to cooperate whenever it came to her. Hearing her laugh undid him in a breathless way.

Aire cleared her throat softly. The sound pulled him out of his thoughts immediately.

Her expression grew more careful now.

Nate noticed the shift instantly.

"You came here for something," he said quietly.

Aire nodded once. "Yes."

Nate leaned back slightly in the chair again. "Then speak."

Aire hesitated. For the first time since entering the room tonight, she suddenly looked uncertain again.

Nate watched her carefully. For the first time, he was patient with her, ready to listen to what she wanted to say.

"I want Alpha Rowanfall returned to court." finally, she spoke.

The room fell quiet immediately.

Nate’s expression flattened at once. "No." He refused without hesitation.

Aire blinked softly. "You didn’t even think about it." She said, taken aback.

"I already know my answer."

Aire frowned faintly. "Nate—"

"He insulted you publicly."

Aire stared dwn at him. "He insulted my situation." She corrected him.

Nate stared away from her. He stared at her waist line now. "He insulted you."

Aire crossed her arms lightly, and leaned away from him. "That hardly feels important now."

"It was important enough then."

Aire stared at him.

Nate’s gaze remained steady. His gaze returned to being cold, and controlled. The warmth from moments ago vanished so quickly it almost startled her.

"He’s Mabel’s father," Aire said carefully.

"And?"

Aire blinked faintly at the bluntness. Althought ahe knew this was Nate, the sudden change made her heart leap. "She’s been kind to me."

Nate scoffed quietly. He met her gaze. "Mabel?"

"Yes." Aire affirmed.

He scoffed again. "That sounds unlikely."

Aire ignored that. "I don’t want her punished because of me."

Nate’s jaw tightened slightly. "You think this is punishment?" he questioned, holding her gaze.

"He lost his place in court."

"He challenged the Luna publicly."

Aire stepped closer unconsciously. "And I’m asking you to help undo it." She said firmly. Her arms across her chest tightened, wordlessly telling him she wouldn’t leave without getting what she came for.

Nate stared at her for a long second. He was determined to refuse her. He looked away first.

"No." He said, final.

Aire sighed softly. Her arms across her chest losened. "Nate." She called him softly.

"No."

"You didn’t even consider—"

"I considered it before you finished speaking."

Aire frowned harder now. She shook her head faintly. "Mabel doesn’t deserve this."

Nate’s gaze returned to her immediately. The coldness shifted faintly in his eyes. "You care about her."

Aire hesitated briefly before nodding. "Yes."

Nate leaned back slowly again. He stayed silent, thinking.

Aire watched him carefully. She steped closer to him, and spoke quieter this time. "She has been a firend aince I walked into this castle."

Nate stilled faintly.

Aire looked away. "She listened to me. Even if she doesn’t understand."

The room remained silent for several seconds.

Nate’s fingers tapped once lightly against the armrest of the chair.

Aire waited quietly.

He sighed and the sound came out irritated.

"Damn it." he cursed.

Aire looked back at him immediately.

Nate rubbed a hand slowly across his jaw before muttering something beneath his breath in High Danish.

He looked at her again. "You ask for troublesome things."

Aire’s eyes softened instantly. "But?"

Nate narrowed his eyes slightly at her. "But nothing."

Aire smiled faintly despite herself. "Nate."

His jaw tightened again. He cursed inaudibly under his breath. "I’ll speak to Elijah." He agreed in one breath.

Relief crossed her face instantly.

Nate noticed her rellief immediately. That expression alone made agreeing worth it, which irritated him even more.

He never dreamt a day would come where he’d grant her a wish.

Aire stepped closer again unconsciously. "Really?"

"No," he deadpanned. "I enjoy lying for entertainment."

Aire laughed softly again.

Nate stared at her quietly, then shook his head faintly. "You’re exhausting." He said genuinely.

Aire smile widened.

And for reasons Nate absolutely refused to examine, he found himself staring at that smile far longer than he should have.