reaching for the hand he has over Nick’s neck. A shirt, I realize, and Sy’s own, going by the fact his chest is bare. But when I touch it, Sy growls. Like a fucking bear and everything. The ridiculousness of it hits me, and I snap, “Has your Duchess ever re-attached a limb before? Because I have.” When he finally looks at me, I see the fear in his eyes. It’s an all-encompassing panic, and I’m bombarded by these flashes of memory. Wicker standing over me after a rough whipping. Pace standing over Wicker after that fight on the ice. Wicker and I sitting outside the door to the dungeon for days,
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PROTECTIVE SY
