Page 53 of Revealing Fate

Kal leaned in and lowered his voice. “I know you’re angry. You’ve every right to be. But mind your fucking tone when you speak to me.”

Rask’s lips peeled back over crooked teeth. “Railah is still in that shithole because of you. This is your fault.”

Kal did not back down. “And I own that. I’m fucking sorry, Rask. You know I am.”

“Your sorry doesn’t mean shit, Kal. I want my sister back.”

“I know,” Kal insisted. “But I’m not waltzing back into the capital without a solid plan. It’s suicide. We barely made it out the first time. The entire city is on high alert.”

Rask snarled. If Kal had been in second form, his hackles would have stood on end. “You had your chance to make a plan. This time⁠—”

“It was a good plan, Rask,” Santhe said, unexpectedly stepping up from behind them and positioning herself near Kal’s shoulder. “It wasn’t Kal’s fault. There was no way he could have known that woman wasn’t your sister.”

Rask eyed Santhe with a sneer.

Kal blocked her from view, forcing Rask’s attention back on him. “I will help you,” he said. “But we need⁠—”

“Fuck your help, Kal,” Rask spat. “I’ll get Railah back on my own.”

He shoved past Kal without a backward glance and disappeared into the gathering crowd.

Kal heaved an exhale and ran a hand over his head.

“Are you alright?”

Kal deadpanned at Santhe. “No.”

She nodded knowingly, brown eyes solemn. “Me either. But, Kal, you can’t blame yourself. Cinah didn’t know our message hadn’t reached Railah until it was too late. There was no way for us to get word to you in time.”

The truth of her words did little to alleviate the weight of responsibility he carried.

Around them, the arena continued to fill. Shurii in first and second forms crowded the inner walkway and occupied seats. A high wall guarded the lowest level of the recessed pit. The first level of tiered seats extended up and overlooked the pit’s earthen floor. Further up, the second level rose behind a walkway bordered by a heavy wrought-iron railing.

Kal watched the first level fill. More shurii than those stationed at the depot had come to watch the prisoner’s trial. News traveled fast, even in the depths of the forest.

A hush blanketed the arena. Kal searched for the source of the silence, and a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature stole into his bones.

Kal saw Beaumont Stonehaugh enter the pit through one of two gated access tunnels. The big male turned, revealing the prisoner. Familiar honey-green eyes tentatively assessed her surroundings.

Some foreign, desperate thing clawed at the inside of Kal’s ribcage.

“Gods,” Santhe murmured. “She’s so young…”

Hushed mutterings fluttered inside the arena from a hundred curious voices. Kal couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Santhe was right. Kitty looked like a glass doll in a rockslide—utterly breakable. A low growl rumbled in Kal’s throat before he consciously cut off the sound.

Santhe peered up at him in question.

He ignored her and swallowed his ire. It choked him.

Kitty trailed Stonehaugh into the pit with unsure steps, gazing up at all the shurii circling her overhead. She wore the same attire she’d slept in. She was not wearing the garment he’d given her. The one he’d specifically instructed her to change into.

Another growl attempted to push past his chest. When she shifted—because she would shift, just as he’d warned—the transformation would shred her clothing, leaving her second form displayed before countless hungry eyes as she fought for her freedom. Kal ground his teeth.

Fucking stubborn, willful, disobedient…

Stonehaugh stopped with Kitty in the center of the pit. A moment later, Saul emerged from the same tunnel and joined them.

“Who is she, Kal?” Santhe asked.