I pressed my palm against Nolan's forehead, feeling the drain open like a valve I'd turned without thinking. The circles in my eyes pulsed bright as his Essentia flooded into me—clean, pure, and way too fucking earnest for its own good.
"Sorry," I said. My palm stayed pressed against his forehead, the circles in my eyes burning brighter with each pulse of Essentia that poured into me. "Nothing personal."
That was a lie. The kind I told myself more than him. This was personal in every sense that mattered. Personal because the guy beneath my hand had what I wanted and didn't know what the fuck to do with it. Personal because Aurora tasted like summer rain and forgiveness, and he'd been keeping her at arm's length like a trophy he was too scared to touch. Personal because I'd already had her gasping my name in the dark while he practiced his hero speeches in the mirror.
