Twitchy with the urge tofight.
“By the second dae,” Kaan continues as I weave the remaining length beneath his ardent stare, “I’d busted out so many words the stutter I had as a youngling was ground to dust, but I was so broken down I could hardly stand.” He fists his hands and sets them on his thighs. “Two neighboring clans built an alliance, amassing a small army that would’ve been my end had Rygun not brewed the strength to obliterate them with his flame. The bodies were still burning as he looked at me on my knees in the dirt, and I knew. I either climbed on his back or he was going to curl up and die beside me.”
I still, his words sinking past my skin like slow-moving arrows.
Swallowing the ache in my throat, I take Kaan’s fist and ease his fingers loose, urging him to pinch the end of the braid while I work to free the bundle of hair from his leather bind—fumbling for the knot.
He bows his head to give me better access. Something that feels …intimate. Like a larger, fiercer dragon trusting another to help scratch away its molting scales, baring its vulnerable parts.
I manage to loosen his thick, unruly locks, doused in his molten scent as I use the bind to knot the plait, strong and secure. Without pause, I retrieve a dagger, angle the blade to my scalp, and slice off the braid, taking a moment to inspect my handiwork.
Making sure I didn’t fuck it up.
“Together, we made the choice to live,” Kaan rasps, turning to stone as I move my fingers through his hair, up near his scalp.
I gather a large tendril I set my uhloo against, using the loose ends of the bind to knot it in place. Finally done, I pull it forward, so it’s draped over his shoulder—long, strong, and boastful.
Though it’s not perfect, it’s so tight it’s almost stiff. Something that doesn’t seem to bother him as he takes the uhloo in his hands, looking down at it with such tender adoration my chest feels bruised from the sight.
“Upon returning to my clan, many dots were added to my réidi. Tribute to the lives I took. I wear their souls like stains; good warriors who were only fighting to provide for their loved ones. Though I’d do it all again, there was small honor in the blood I spilled on that battlefield.”
“You’re wrong.”
Kaan looks at me, frowning.
“Fighting for another who couldn’t fight for himself, with no expectation of gaining anything in return …” I brush the back of my hand across his cheek. “You claimed more honor than you lost, Kaan. There’s nobody else I’d willingly charge into battle behind.Nobody.”
He pulls breath. Opens his mouth—
Siharna releases a mighty scream that punches into me, grips somethingdeep, andsqueezes. A feeling that’s come and gone since we got back to the village and collected Korie.
Since I lied to Kaan and told him I was tired, when really, something within me was fissuring beneath the pressure of those agonized sounds.
I thought I needed to be alone, but now that I’m nuzzled next to Kaan on this seater—his sturdy presence making these waves of unease a little easier to breathe through—I think this is what webothneeded.
Each other.
“Scrap that,” I announce, pulling a breath so big it shifts a little more of the discomfort. “Siharnacould rally me.”
With a snap of her fingers, honestly.
Kaan smiles, though it fades as he slips a loose fall of hair behind my clipped ear. “One dae, that battle might just come for us, Moonbeam …”
“Another dae, another bloodbath.” I reach over him, pluck a piece of peeled fruit from the bowl, and bite into it, chewing through my crisp mouthful. “Just say the word and I’ll armor up. Creators know the world would be a better place without your brothers ruling two-thirds of the globe,” I mutter, the tips of my fingers tingling with the urge to scratch the sides of my nails.
“On that, we can agree.”
I feel Kaan’s eyes on me as I push the rest of the fruit in my mouth, chewing while I stare at the wall.
Lovely as it is to imagine gouging Cadok’s eyes from his sockets and popping them with a pump of my fists, everything feels so uncertain that it’s almost impossible to see more than three steps ahead. What if there’s nothing left to salvage after the falls, let aloneliberate?
It’s enough to make my stomach sour.
“While we’re on the topic of armor, I— Well. I have something for you.”
I arch a brow as Kaan retrieves a large parcel off a table, sits back down, and hands it over. Touching the twill bow, I hesitate before unraveling the bind to reveal a white stack of folded garments.
“Riding leathers, boots of your own, and a new cloak,” he murmurs, and I lift the form-fitting jacket that’s a shapely piece of art—all elegant panels and smooth lines that look perfectly tailored to praise my shape. The most spectacular garment I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. “It’s runed to protect you from getting frostbite from Liri’s hide.”
