Page 79 of Revealing Fate

“Why? Disappointed I wasn’t safely restricted to the living room?”

Which is precisely what he’d initially led her to believe. The cad didn’t deserve a reply.

“Did you know you drool?”

Felíne’s mouth popped open. She squashed the sudden desire to wipe a hand across her face. “I do not.”

“Oh yes,” he said. “You left a delightful little puddle on my pillow.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“That’s not all,” he continued, encouraged by her embarrassment.

“Consider your next words carefully, Mr. Kaine,” she cautioned, patting Daybreak’s hilt. “You left me armed.”

He grinned wider, dimples winking. “We’ve spent some nights in close proximity, Kitty, and I’ve not known you to be a hot sleeper.”

Felíne didn’t like where this was going.

“Yet, this morning, I found the sheets kicked down around your feet, my shredded trousers on the floor, and my shirt pushed up over⁠—”

Felíne ripped the hatchet from its sheath and flung it. The blade twirled clumsily through the air, missing Kal’s laughing face by a mile. She stalked to retrieve it, muttering under her breath.

“Gods, woman. If I’d known how horribly you throw, I’d never have gifted you that blade.”

“Come a bit closer, Kalevar,” she crooned. “Daybreak has already tasted grimalkin blood. Let’s see if it likes yours.”

Felíne found the pale handle of her hatchet sticking out from a tangle of leafy hostas. She grabbed it and straightened, seeing Kal had stepped close.

Her breath hitched. The merriment had fled his features, his expression unreadable. Goddess, why did his nearness, his undivided attention, do this to her? It was terribly unfair.

“You nearly died in that arena,” he said solemnly.

“If you hadn’t…” Her throat worked on a swallow. If he hadn’t thrown himself into the arena at the exact moment he did? She shuddered to think of the outcome yet couldn’t help but contemplate it. Kal hadn’t just saved her life. He’d saved countless others. Did he even realize? “If you had not been there, Kal, I would have.”

Kal’s black eyes warmed with the hint of a golden hue. His gaze softened. He hesitated, on the verge of saying something profound, and Felíne leaned toward him, eager to hear whatever it was. Dear Goddess, how she craved him. His closeness, his affection. Even his playful teasing tugged at the threads of her heart. “Tell me,” she pleaded. “What is it?”

Something warred in his expression. A muscle worked in his jaw. Then, whatever it was he’d been about to say, fled. Her heart sank. She did this. Only two weeks ago, he would have spoken without reservation. He wouldn’t have been forced to reconsider every confession, overthink every statement. The realization hit her like a kick to the gut.

That’s why he’s been relentless with his teasing. His flirtation functioned like a shield. A way to protect his vulnerability without harming her. Because the alternative? The alternative was rage.

Felíne stepped back from him, allowing him space. “Thank you for the medicine,” she said, changing the subject.

Something passed over Kal’s features too briefly for her to identify before they rearranged into a mask of neutrality. “You’re welcome.”

“How did you get my things, anyway? I thought my pack was still back with the Stillwater Watch.”

Kal’s brow lifted. “You have an admirer.”

She glanced at him questioningly.

“Stonehaugh.”

Felíne had nearly forgotten about the stalwart guard and felt a pang of guilt. Kal hadn’t been the only one who’d helped her. Without Beaumont…

“Clever of him to suggest the rat,” Kal mused, and Felíne’s gaze shot to his. Of course, he would know.

“Did he tell you?”