smiled to himself and patted the striped hide of his Zeelah’s neck. “But to answer your question, no. Definitely not.”
“How come?”
“I’m too shy.”
I blinked. “No, you’re not.”
“You’re the only woman outside of Cruor I’ve talked to for more than five minutes without putting my foot in my mouth.” He paused, tossing me a sidelong glance before gripping the reins of his Zeelah. “I’m not an easy guy to approach to begin with. I know that. And then…I dunno. It’s like my mind goes blank. With you, it’s different.”
Oz was a dominating figure—there was no denying that. But beneath his hulking frame was a friendly and sweet gentle giant. His eyes searched my face for an answer, and I exhaled a low breath. “Call it a Charmer’s perk.”
His brows drew together.
“My whole existence is based on my ability to charm things. I’m a living lure. My body produces an undetectable aroma that puts others at ease.”
“Can you control it?”
I shook my head, staring at the patchwork knitting of branches and leaves. “It’s not a switch. I forget it’s even a thing sometimes.” I used to detest it—the first year of my banishment was littered with men and women making advances driven solely by lust. It wasn’t until sometime later that I realized I preferred it that way. A carnal release without an emotional pull. Dez was the closest anyone had come to even toeing that gap. Between the lure and the Charmers Council, I had no desire to test out trust again. Not when it was so hard to glean anyone’s true intentions.
Especially Noc’s.
My gaze found him again without even trying, despite his warning still ricocheting through my brain. No matter how hard you try, no matter how many battles you win, you will never survive me. His words were so menacing, and yet it was as if he were referring to something else. Not the way he could incapacitate me without a second thought, but something more dangerous, if that were even possible. A shiver spider-walked the length of my spine.
Oz steered his Zeelah closer. “You okay?”
“Yeah, enough about me.” I just couldn’t let it go. “What about Noc? Who’s waiting for him when this trip is over?”
Something foreign darted across Oz’s face. “No one. To be honest, I’ve never seen him bring anyone home.”
“No one?” The wheels in my brain turned. I couldn’t imagine no one. No lasting attachments, sure. But not a single person? Noc’s interest in the Gyss played on repeat in my mind. I could gift a mischievous beast like that to a scoundrel with ease. A Gyss’s power was dependent on its master. Those with more grit, determination, magic—whatever driving force it may be—could successfully wish for anything. Those with weak wills or flimsy desires? A Gyss wouldn’t have the amp necessary to make the truly chaotic possible.
But someone like Noc?
Danger.
“Do you know why he wants a Gyss?”
Oz side-eyed me. “No. You could ask Kost. He’s known him the longest.”
“I’ll pass.”
A soft, lyrical trill broke through the other birdcalls. It was musical in the way the pitch carried between octaves, and it didn’t fit. Craning my neck to the treetops, I scoured the branches. I knew that sound—it was the contact call of a Femsy.
A twig shifted, and the bird appeared. Steely gray with a violet breast, the Femsy inflated its chest once more to let out a string of notes. My bones went cold. This non-native beast was far from home, and those three beady black eyes could easily be telegraphing information to its master.
Adrenaline ignited in my veins, and my symbol sparked to life. The bird homed in on my hand. Was it simply lost? Carried away by an errant wind stream and just trying to get back to its flock? Or was it owned? It was too far away for me to sense a connection. But if it blinked… If the protective films slid over its eyes and glinted an ominous yellow, then I’d know. That unique hue was a by-product of taming. No wild Femsy would have that coloration.
Gods, I needed it to blink.
“Leena? What’s wrong?” Oz’s voice broke my concentration. The Femsy chirped once more before launching into the treetops. As the flapping of its thin wings died, my heart sank.
I hadn’t glimpsed the film. But deep down, I knew. A Charmer was watching.
“Leena?” He reached over and gripped my knee, and I jumped.
“Sorry, thought I saw something.”
His saddle creaked as he turned to look behind him. “What?”