Page 132 of Blade of the Nightking

Rìan stared at it. “What in gods’ names is that?”

“What does it look like?” I snapped, lunging forward to snatch the furious kitten back up.

Across the room, Segolayne had already drawn a knife.

“Put that away,” I snapped. “It’s a kitten.”

Her lip curled in disgust, pulling the scar across her face taut. Even healed, it looked angry and raw against her otherwise pretty features. At least I hadn't taken her eye... though I'd come dangerously close.

Rìan took another step closer. The kitten immediately let out a warning yowl and bunched in my arms, as though fully prepared to launch itself straight at him.

He stopped where he was. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I lifted my chin. This was a stupid idea. “I need to see her.”

“Do you have information or not?”

“Not,” I replied evenly. “I lied.”

Behind me, Veylan muttered a curse.

A low warning growl rumbled through Rìan's chest.

Absurdly, the kitten growled back. The sound was tiny and utterly ridiculous coming from such a scraggly little creature, yet it carried enough genuine menace that one of Rìan's brows lifted.

“Is that rodent feral?”

“No,” I said, fixing him with a hard glare. It just hates you. The words never left my mouth, but I knew he'd heard them anyway. “Let me see her,” I insisted again. “I’m not going to hurt her. She’s the only person in this damn castle I actually like.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. Or perhaps it was only the shifting firelight.

After a long pause, he stepped aside.

Immediately, I moved past him to Levinica. I knelt beside her chair and gently took one of her gloved hands in mine, my other arm still grappling with the writhing kitten. She didn't so much as glance at me. Her gaze remained fixed on the night beyond the windows.

“Levinica,” I murmured softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s me.”

Nothing.

“I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Carefully, I began peeling the glove from her hand.

Segolayne surged forward, outrage flashing across her face—but Rìan lifted a single hand without looking at her, every ounce of his attention heavy on me. She stopped at once.

I took great care not to brush Levinica's skin. I didn't want my touch to send her spiraling further into herself. Once one glove was off, I eased the other free until both her hands lay bare in her lap. Then, silently praying I wasn’t making another catastrophic mistake⁠—

I lowered the kitten gently onto her knees.

The creature immediately curled into a ball and began purring thunderously. Very gently, I guided Levinica's wrists downward by the soft fabric of her sleeves until her fingertips brushed against the kitten's velvet-soft coat.

I held my breath. For one terrible moment, nothing happened.

Then her fingers flexed. And curled into the ebony fur.

My breath caught. When I looked back up at her, Levinica was staring down at the little beast. A faint flicker of awareness sparked in her eyes, fragile and wavering, like someone slowly rising from deep black water.

Hope rose so sharply in my chest it almost hurt—and vanished suddenly.