Payal “threw” the bottle almost to the ceiling, held it there, then allowed it to drop into her hands. “My mind zigs and zags,” she muttered. “I can’t hold on to a single thought for long.” She jumped up, went to the balcony doors. “Why is it so green outside?” Her hand hovered over the touch-activated door control, but she looked back at him rather than making contact.

“Yes,” he said, fascinated by the primal complexity of her.

Opening the doors on a shush of sound, she ran out onto the deck that overlooked lush green foliage and, beyond it, a road bordered by more foliage. Farther back rose huge forest goliaths—as they did behind his property.

Having reached the railing, Payal craned her neck left, then right. “There are no other houses. Only trees.”

Canto didn’t tell her they were on the edge of StoneWater bear territory, even though this part of their land was technically accessible to the public. While he could put himself in Payal’s hands without a qualm, he couldn’t do that with the bears.

He’d have to talk to Valentin, ask permission to give a teleporter this information.

“It’s so quiet here.” Payal stepped back from the edge, then went to it again. This time, she leaned over the railing until her feet were off the deck boards. “You planted flowers!”

“They were a gift. I couldn’t let them die.” It would’ve broken Arwen’s heart, and that Canto would never do.

Running to the other edge of the balcony, Payal looked over there, too, then came back and said, “I’m hungry. I have a migraine. It hurts.”

Canto scowled. “Do you need—”

“Food,” she interrupted, dropping her fingers from her temple. “Food will make me feel better.”

The two of them went inside, and she curled up on his sofa again, tangled hair, wild eyes, and a frenetic energy tightly contained as she wrapped her arms around her knees and began to rock. “See, Canto? See? I’m quite mad outside the cage.”

“I see bright, wild energy. A little jagged at the edges, sure. But I don’t see any sign of dangerous mental instability.” With no other data at hand, he had to go on his gut instinct and on his knowledge of Payal on the mental plane.

That she was disturbed by herself, he accepted. But he also knew that she’d never received positive feedback from those around her.

“Kindness matters, Canto,” Arwen had said to him once, his empath’s heart pinned to his sleeve and his eyes shining. “Tell a child enough times that he’s brave and smart and good, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Not ever would Canto gainsay Payal in any decision she made about her mind—but he damn well was going to be that positive voice, the one that shone light on the other side of the coin and made her realize that all her feedback to date had been skewed heavily to the negative.

When she continued to rock silently, he picked up a piece of toast, spread it with butter, then took a bite. The salt hit hard and strong. “I’m a fan of butter and baked goods.” He held out the half-eaten toast to her. “Bite?”

A halt to the rocking.

She stared suspiciously at the bread, then snatched it and took an experimental bite. “Maybe,” she said, but she didn’t give it back.

He made another piece for himself, began to eat.

As she nibbled on the piece she’d claimed, Payal watched him with an intensity that should’ve been unnerving. It wasn’t. Payal wasn’t looking at him with murder in mind—but as if he were some unknown animal. “My father told me I was a feral and insane beast. That’s why he put me in that place.”

“My father told me I was a blot on their genetic history, too broken to be worth saving even for my cardinal status.”

Half the furniture in the room rose up off its legs before slamming back down. Hard. “I’ll kill him,” Payal said firmly, then frowned. “No, he’s already dead.”

“And long forgotten.” Since she’d finished her toast, Canto threw her a piece of Chaos’s homemade muesli slice. “Want me to kill your father for you?”

A pause as she chewed on a bite of the slice. Two deep vertical lines furrowed her brow. “No,” she said after swallowing. “He’s a monster, but it’d cause too much chaos if he died without warning—thousands of people rely on the Rao empire to feed their families.”

Leaning forward in his chair, Canto raised an eyebrow. “Baby, you sound lucid to me.”

She ate two bites in quick succession, her breathing short and jagged. “The jittering in my head. It’s not … good, Canto.”

He heard the incipient panic, frowned. “Can you shield partway? So you’re not shutting away all of you?” He was compelled by her in all her guises, but he wouldn’t have her hurting. Payal deserved a life of joy, not pain. “Or is it all or nothing?”

She parted her lips to reply, but shut her mouth before saying a word. For a while she just focused on the muesli slice, interspersed with drinks of the fruit-flavored nutrients she’d chosen. When she’d finished the slice, she looked at what else he had on offer, and chose a piece of mild cheese. “I don’t know,” she said after she’d finished that. “As a child, it was all or nothing.”

“You’re not a child anymore,” he said softly, holding her gaze as his heart squeezed. “You were also doing it alone. If you want, I can get you access to an empath who’ll never ever betray anything you tell him. He might be able to assist.”

Payal ate another piece of cheese before throwing her arms open without warning. “What are we doing? This.” Moving her arm around to indicate the two of them in his living room.

“Being us.” It was a risk, to remind her that they were just Canto and Payal. 3K and 7J, with a bond fierce and unbreakable.

Payal hugged her knees to her chest again. “I have to go,” she blurted out. “I’ll send you the details of my contact with the Ruling Coalition.”

She was gone before he could respond.

His heart kicked and he hoped like hell he hadn’t made a mistake, hadn’t terrified her away.

A flicker of movement to his left had him jerking his attention that way. The last thing he expected to see was a small bear with dark brown fur climbing up the balcony strut to reach the beam at the top. Seeing him, the little bear made excited sounds and jumped onto the balcony before running over to him.