“Why did you do it?” I asked, my tone softer than it had been before. A weapon partially sheathed. “Do what?” It didn’t sound like a real question, though. His eyes flicked between mine, then dropped to where my hand still clutched my torn dress together. “Save me. It can’t have just been because I’m useful.” He looked at me for a seemingly endless stretch of time. Midnight-blue eyes, inscrutable expression. Tension in his jaw…and everywhere else, I realized. Like he was perpetually ready for some unknown calamity. Like he was…waiting.
