Helena kept her eyes on him—on that playful smirk that tugged at the corner of Kayden's lips like he knew far too many things she didn't. It wasn't fair. That smirk looked too familiar. Too Ethan.
"Your house is nearby? You're going home now?" she asked, tone as casual as she could manage.
Kayden tilted his head. "You'll die if you enter Cursed Valley alone."
Her brow lifted. "And? Why would you care?"
He placed a hand over his heart, mock-wounded. "Ouch. I was going to accompany you as an apology."
"For throwing me into a river?"
"For undressing you with the grace of a drunken goat, actually." Then he added, more smoothly, "And I intend to accompany you... beyond just drying your wet clothes with magic."
She rolled her eyes but gave a small nod. Her clothes were still damp, and the cold of the valley had begun to seep into her bones. They stood silently for a beat, the air charged with something unspoken.
"Helena," she said.
