Noah froze. The fury that had burned in him fizzled into something sharp and cold that cut deeper than any wound he had sustained.
"Don't say something that stupid," he hissed, his voice shaking, not from rage, rather from fear. His bloodied hands trembled against Atlas's skin as though they could erase the shallow wound. "You think throwing your life away proves anything? You think that's what I want?"
Atlas's eyes, glacial and unyielding, bore into his. "Then what do you want, Circe? To keep lying to me until I die believing you never cared? Is that the life you want me to waste?"
The name, Circe, landed like a blow, and Noah flinched, his lips pressing into a hard line. He wanted to push Atlas away, wanted to turn his gaze back to the battle where Cassius and Alice clashed in monstrous fury, but his body wouldn't move.
Instead, his hands only pressed firmer to Atlas's neck as if afraid the man would disappear if he let go. His voice, when it broke free, was rough.
