THE ENGINE IDLED like a restrained animal.
Inside the car, the silence didn't feel empty anymore. It felt sharpened—polished to a blade edge by everything they were refusing to say.
"If I take the Ember Sigil back," Grayson said, "my brothers will assume I intend to use it."
"Do you?" Mailah asked.
His jaw tightened, the smallest movement telegraphing how much he hated questions that forced him into truth.
"I intend to ensure it remains out of reach," he said at last.
That answer was so careful it was almost evasive.
Mailah narrowed her eyes. "That wasn't a yes or no."
"It wasn't meant to be."
His hand stayed on the wheel. He didn't look at her, but she could see the tension under his skin, the way his restraint looked less like peace and more like a clamp holding something down.
"What's important," he continued, voice even, "is that no one else gains access to it."
