"You seem very protective of that boy," Charles observed, his voice sliding into a smooth, oily register.
"Noah is nothing," I said, the words tasting like ash. I forced a cold, dismissive sneer onto my lips. "I already told you. He's a toy. An amusement. That's all. I don't need you scrutinizing who I choose to take to bed."
Charles studied me for a long moment, his gaze searching for the lie. "That's precisely what concerns me, Cassian. You have total freedom. You have a city full of options, women and men who would kill for a seat at your table. And yet, there is only him. Repeatedly. Exclusively." He pushed off the desk, his voice dropping an octave. "That doesn't sound like a toy. That sounds like an anchor. And anchors are things that pull men under."
"Stay out of my sex life," I snapped. The first crack appeared in my composure, small, but unmistakable. "The fact that you monitor it closely enough to have developed a thesis is disgusting. Even for you."
