That night. That night. The one where they'd made a sport of throwing pebbles at the strange new thing that had wandered into their world in ragged clothing and dry lips.
Cyrus's eyes widened slightly in alarm just as Isabella launched.
No hesitation. No buildup.
Pure fury.
She lunged forward with enough speed that even Bird-Nest stumbled back. Judgy Hair flinched, clearly unsure if he needed to throw his spear or duck.
But before Isabella could even reach them, Cyrus's arm gently curved around her waist, pulling her back.
Not forcefully—he'd never grab her like that. No, he just anchored her like a soft weight tied to a kite string. His face wore that infuriatingly calm smile, one dimple poking out faintly.
"You really thought you could take down two palace guards?" he murmured near her ear, amusement dancing in his pink eyes.
Isabella didn't answer. She fumed.
"Crazy dirty woman? CRAZY?" she spat over Cyrus's arm. "You're lucky I didn't bite you that night!"
