Jasmine did not move when Xavier's hand fell away from her shoulder. She stood in the wrecked hallway with the scent of scorched stone thick in her throat, watching the man she had chosen look at her the way the Council's hunters had looked at her — like something that needed to be contained before it could be understood.

"Say it," she whispered. "Whatever you're thinking. Say it to my face instead of standing there deciding how much of it I deserve to hear."

Xavier's throat worked. For a long moment the only sound was the storm settling outside, thunder retreating like a beast called off its kill. When he...