Heather hesitated. "Are you—"
She stepped forward instinctively, hand stretched toward him. But she forgot the edge of the gap was uneven.
She wobbled slightly, and in that split-second, she felt Jake's weight brace upward to push — but before she could touch him, Caius pulled her back again.
"Are you insane?" he said tightly, he moved his lips close to her ear, as if making his statement clearer.
"I was helping him."
"He doesn't need help."
"Caius, just help him up—"
"He's fine."
And Jake was — or at least, he made it look that way. Because he didn't look offended or demand help. He simply reached up, as he found leverage, and lifted himself with clean effort.
The way his muscles moved, and his breath tightened, he was strong, yes, but also tired. And his eyes were locked on Caius's.
Heather watched him with strange concern. He paused at the top, one hand pressed briefly to his chest before wiping it on his slacks — something about that small motion made her fear.
