Page 78 of Revealing Fate

He made a quick assessment. “Do you have another injury that I’m unaware of?”

“No,” she replied a bit tartly. “Your trousers are suffocating me.”

Without thinking, Kitty lifted the hem of her tunic to reveal thick fabric stretched taut over the curve of her hips. Kal barely managed to stop himself from biting his fist. The sight of her ass in his pants was almost too much.

“I had to tear the waist,” she admitted, cheeks staining a delicious crimson shade visible even in the dark.

Kal stepped forward and dipped his head close to her ear. “Why, Kitty,” he purred, unable to help himself. “When we left Cindamar, I said you’d be begging to share my room. I didn’t anticipate you would be sleeping in my bed and ripping into my trousers.”

She reared back from him. The color in her face deepened. Kitty opened her mouth, closed it, spun on her heel, and shuffled down the hall to his bedroom. Kal heard the unmistakable click of the lock being thrown and couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips.

Chapter 30

PUNISHMENT

FELÍNE WOKE TO THE SOUND of birds calling out the window. From the weak dappling of light filtering through the canopy outside, she guessed it couldn’t have been much past mid-morning. She stretched under the sheets, wincing a little with the movement. Her shoulder felt achy and stiff, like the bones of her joint had fused overnight. Felíne had expected to endure a fitful sleep after returning to Kal’s room, but once she’d crawled into the expanse of furs, soft cotton sheets, and down pillows, oblivion claimed her like a stolen treasure.

Felíne was surprised to find that no breakfast waited on the side table. Instead, she found a glass of cool water and two roughly oblong capsules. She lifted one and inspected it. A familiar, sharp, herby scent reached her nostrils. An analgesic. One that looked exactly like the ones Cindamar’s menders had gifted her. She hadn’t left those capsules with Kal. They were in her medicinal kit. The one confiscated back at the Stillwater Watch Post.

Felíne’s gaze snagged on something resting against the doorframe, the glint of metal drawing her attention. Daybreak. Her eyes widened. Another item that hadn’t been there when she’d locked herself in Kal’s bedroom. Awareness prickled over her skin. Had he gone to retrieve it?

She shoved the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the mattress. She had locked the door last night, though by this point, she shouldn’t be surprised by her undeterred nightly visitor. The memory of Kal’s teasing echoed in her head, causing a flush to creep into her cheeks.

Ripping into his trousers, indeed. Said trousers lay in a pile near the far wall. The fiend.

In addition to the painkillers, which she promptly swallowed, and the hatchet, Felíne found a clean buff-colored tunic, women’s breeches, soft leather boots, and a set of undergarments folded carefully at the foot of the bed.

The thought of Kal stealing into her room—no, his room—to deliver the intimate new garments made her insides dance. She should have been alarmed, especially considering his parting words to her the night prior. Instead, her chest swelled with gratitude for his thoughtfulness. Felíne wasn’t sure where she and Kal currently stood, but if he was leaving her medicine, a weapon, and clean clothes, she considered it neutral, if not steady, ground.

Felíne dressed, cleaned her teeth in the washroom, hung her hatchet at her hip, and ventured down the hall. The kitchen and living room were empty. Kal was nowhere to be found. She shoved back the crestfallen swell that rose within her. It was time to stop sulking within the confines of the cabin. Felíne pushed open the front door and stepped onto the porch.

A furry black shape lifted its head, snout raised in her direction. She stilled, gaze colliding with the wolf’s. Felíne barely breathed. It studied her for another heartbeat, sniffing the air delicately, and then returned its muzzle to rest between paws the size of platters. A heavy sigh heaved its shaggy side. She edged slowly around the creature, giving it a wide berth, but the animal showed no additional interest in her presence. Felíne lowered herself carefully onto the top step, keeping one wary eye on the mass of silver-black fur and teeth. Benign as it pretended to be, Felíne knew the canine could sense her infirmity and was more than capable of finishing the job the grimalkin started.

The forest surrounding Kal’s little clearing buzzed with activity. Bees hovered languidly among vibrant low-growing blooms, a squirrel launched itself through the branches overhead in a dizzying display of acrobatics, and a dozen different species of birds squawked, twittered, sang, and crowed. The forest floor was thickly blanketed with squat foliage: sprawling mosses, feathery ferns, creeping phloxes, and vibrant hostas. The underbelly of the wood thrived in the low light, with the high canopies greedily collecting the sun’s stronger rays.

How very different Stillwater Wood was from her arid home with its packed red dirt, hardy trees, and sun-loving cacti. An unexpected pang of homesickness squeezed Felíne’s chest. She’d been thrilled at the prospect of new experiences when her identity had been safely concealed behind a veil of deception. Kitty had been free to explore Cindamar’s bustling trade center with Kal’s steadfast companionship. She’d allowed her guard to slip, had permitted emotion to tangle her usually responsible thoughts. Felíne had let herself care for Kal, knowing she could never have him. She had entertained a fantasy in which duty and destiny were replaced with selfish desire. She’d been so ready to shed that identity. Too ready.

Now the veil had been lifted, her fate revealed, and Felíne had no idea what was to become of it. Kal was her one true ally in a forest of enemies, and even his loyalties had been torn by her deceit. The thought saddened her.

The heartbreaking fact was that Felíne’s feelings for Kal had developed independently of her dishonesty. She’d known the truth, after all. But he hadn’t been given that same courtesy. Any affection that Kal had cultivated was like a seed fed with poisoned water. Even though Felíne had been honest about everything else, that one secret, her damning identity, was like an ant colony: incidental on the surface, but far-reaching underneath. And it mercilessly eroded any potential foundation upon which they had built their affiliation.

The nameless black wolf suddenly lifted its head, ears perked forward and alert. Felíne noticed then that the forest had grown eerily silent. She reached for her hatchet with her dominant right hand, thankful that the grimalkin’s claws had raked her left shoulder. The wolf rose to a half crouch.

Kal emerged from a shadowed space between two trees a moment later, and Felíne let out a breath.

“A little warning might have been nice,” she grumbled.

Kal’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement. Someone was in a good mood.

She stood, the pain of her injury dull and distant. The analgesic had taken effect. The wolf slunk down the porch steps and disappeared into the depths of the forest.

“I wondered when you’d emerge from my lair.”

Felíne put a hand on one hip. “Maybe next time you’ll be a respectable host and knock before forcing your way into a locked room.”

Kal flashed a sinful grin. He wore dark trousers that hugged his muscular thighs, a clean linen shirt, a leather cuirass embossed with that same strange crest she’d seen him wearing the night of Meryl and Bo’s wedding, depicting a half-lion, half-sea creature, and black boots. A set of wicked knives hung sheathed at his hips. “And so rudely interrupt the depths of your slumber?”

She scowled. “You might have told me that first night that locking the door was pointless.”