"That sounds like surveillance," I said, my voice dry, testing the boundaries.
"It is," he replied, offering no apology.
I gave him my most dangerous look, the one that usually made magistrates tremble. He didn't flinch.
"I don't care," he said, meeting the look head-on. "You can be as angry with me as you want. You will be attended to. I won't lose you to a silent room because no one was there to catch the fire."
Then, the authority left him again. His voice dropped to a jagged whisper. "I watched you out there. Protecting me. While I was…" He stopped, unable to voice the shame of his temporary unconsciousness.
"You were unconscious," I said matter-of-factly. "Someone had to keep the wolves back."
"Eris." It was a warning. Stop deflecting.
I went silent, letting the weight of his gaze settle over me.
