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She blinked and looked away, and he sensed her doubts about him and her zeal for her mission creep in once more.
Killen’s eyes lingered on the Sana’a as she moved around the tidy kitchen.
Despite their divergent goals, she’d become his sounding board these past few weeks.
She had a quiet innate ability to cut through bullshit and give him the exact words he needed to keep his spirits buoyed up.
Over time, he was amazed and in awe, even in some fear of her.
For she was a soul of caged fury.
Yet, under her sometimes icy, badass facade was a warm, kind, intelligent woman. Her beauty aside, she had a sense of humour and the most snide of tongues.
While beautiful, she was not flirtatious; she didn’t initiate conversations, and apart from their initial meet, she’d never unleashed any signs of seduction or a desire to lead him on.
She’d made it evident she was not in need of male attention, not from him or any other man around her.
Instead, she shared with him a wealth of blade insight from her heart, without holds barred, which only added to his esteem for her.
‘Sounds like you need a break.’
Her voice broke through his reverie.
He sliced her eyes to her. ‘Maybe I do. And so do you.’
During training, it’d become clear Sana’a was trying to hide the apparent pain plaguing her more and more each day.
By the end of their sessions, her body was strained, with a furrowed brow and tight lips.
At times, she let out soft grunts of effort, the small whimpers of discomfort she tried to stifle.
When she spoke, her voice was taut as if holding back a cry of agony.
Yet she carried herself with a careful grace as if she were balancing a secret burden on her shoulders that threatened to topple her at any moment.
But her eyes remained implacable, refusing to betray even a hint of the suffering that coursed through her body.
‘Shall we sneak out and explore Katáne?’ she asked, half smiling. ‘This place is getting claustrophobic.’
Killen was hit with a surge of pleasure. ‘Lets. Kultur is probably deep asleep by now.’
They hastened the rest of their meal and worked fast to clear the table.
Before tracking to their separate chambers to change from their training clothes into clean gear suitable for their rare outing.
Sana’a emerged from her room in a silver-sheathed tunic with leggings and knee-high boots, accented with a belt and metallic shoulder detail.
In the corridor, Killen eyes heated as they flicked over her curves. ‘I like,’ he rasped.
‘Not so bad yourself,’ she commented on his thick crushers, fitted pants, and close-fit tee, which emphasised his colossal physique.
Their gazes clashed again before they stealthed themselves in their cloaks, Killen in a kätu infused hood and Sana’a wrapping her metsai cape around her.
Striding through the abandoned kíota, they soon were outside and launched into the skies, powering towards the glittering marble city below.
Chapter 24
They landed on the outskirts of Kos, in a district famed for its nightlife and cafe scene.
