Page 160 of Revealing Fate

Divine mercy, if only she could talk sense into this stubborn ass of a man. “Blessed gods, Kal. No one is taking me. I’m offering to go.”

His face was a hand’s breadth from hers. “If you wanted a man who would allow you to martyr yourself for the greater good, you chose the wrong one.”

Of all the bullheaded, asinine, infuriating⁠—

“I call in my life debt.”

Kal’s head swiveled in Santhe’s direction with such predatory regard that Felíne was suddenly concerned for the woman. Adder whistled low.

Santhe raised her chin in defiance. “I saved your life, Kalevar Kaine. You owe me a debt. I’m calling you on it. I want Cinah.” Her eyes flicked toward Felíne for the briefest moment, and Felíne thought she glimpsed a fleeting blink of sympathy. “At whatever cost.”

Kal straightened and stalked toward his friend. “I’ll get Cinah back,” he declared with a conviction Felíne herself could not muster. “And it won’t be costing us anyone. Save your life debt, Santhe. You may yet need it.”

Felíne woke to darkness. It took her a moment to gather her bearings as the blur of fatigue slipped its gauzy veil from her conscious mind. She sat up and realized she was in Kal’s bed. A frown worked its way between her brows. Felíne was sure she’d fallen asleep on the couch. In fact, she was certain, because her insistence on sleeping in the living room had sparked an argument. One which Kal finally ended by throwing up his hands, stalking to his bedroom, and muttering something about difficult women under his breath. Santhe had opted to stay at the Porters’. Felíne wasn’t sure where Adder lay his head once they’d retired for the night. She only knew they’d all been emotionally strained, exhausted, and collectively thin on patience.

Kal had a plan that involved rescuing Cinah from the king’s clutches while simultaneously keeping Felíne out of them. Adder thought it could work. Santhe thought Kal was a fool to take such a risk but agreed they had a chance of pulling it off. Felíne believed the plan was doomed to fail. But there was no deterring him.

They’d parted ways after discussing the particulars for the umpteenth time and agreed to meet at Meress’s stable an hour after sunrise. Adder would advise the Conclave and instruct the required members of the militia. By the time Felíne and Kal had returned to his cabin outside the city’s boundary, Felíne was so tired she could barely walk a straight line. She’d doggedly fought for her spot on the couch, not wanting to complicate their relationship further, and promptly fallen asleep.

Now, here she was, wide awake at gods only knew what hour, in Kal’s expansive bed alone, having undoubtedly been put there by him. The window was cracked open to allow a gentle breeze during the warmer afternoon, but Felíne shivered as the chilly pre-dawn air kissed her exposed skin.

She slipped from the cozy cocoon of sheets and furs and padded on bare feet in search of her grumpy defender. She found him in the basement, a bottle of whiskey uncorked on the bar. He stood at the far end of the spacious room, half-wreathed in shadow, head bent toward his chest as though gazing upon something at his feet. Kal’s head tilted infinitesimally at the sound of her approach.

“I told you I didn’t want to sleep in your bed.”

Kal didn’t reply.

“You put me there anyway.”

He hummed.

“I think that’s your problem, Kal,” Felíne said. “You have a habit of ignoring what people want in favor of what you think is best for them.”

He looked at her then, eyes streaked with incandescent rays. “Were you more comfortable on the couch or in my bed?”

His bed. Obviously. “That’s not the point.”

“Enlighten me, then. Please.”

Felíne took a breath and hugged herself. “I told you who I am, what is expected of me. You know the Goddess’s prophecy is real. For gods’ sake, Kal, we felt their magic. Walked through their home. We saw their lives. You know what’s at stake if I don’t return to Asteros.” Her voice hitched. Kal only listened, silent as a grave. “Yet your solution is to search for a loophole. One that doesn’t exist, Kal. You are braving a monsoon with a stick boat and a paper sail.”

“You’re telling me I should just hand you over to Domitan?” He searched her face, looking for what, Felíne didn’t know. “That you want to go back?”

She ached for how fervently she wished he’d understand. “I don’t want to go back, Kal. I must. The future of our people depends on it.”

Kal faced her, one arm snaking out and pulling her into the heat of his body. “And what about this? Hmm?” He dipped his head and ran the tip of his nose along the curve of her jaw, causing her body to flush with heat. “You say I ignore what you want. But you want this, Felíne. You’re desperate to feel more than what they’ve allowed you. You’re starved for a life free from these manacles of duty. To be rid of this burdensome fate.”

Felíne took a moment to find her breath. “You’re right.” Gods, was he ever right. She pulled back to study the face she’d come to adore so ardently. The rounded tip of his nose. His strong jaw. The stubble darkening his chin. Those deep-set obsidian eyes fractured by brilliant shafts of golden light. “But that life does not exist for me. It is a dream, Kal. A beautiful, impossible dream.”

He assessed her a moment before replying. “It doesn’t have to be. My plan will work. We’ll get Cinah safely away, deal with Domitan and his retinue, and then we will find a way to defy a goddess.”

He said it lightly, yet the conviction in his tone weighed worlds. Felíne realized then that she was fighting a losing battle. This conversation was like her archery training in the glen. They were trying and trying to connect but missing the target every time. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t see things as simply as he did, and she couldn’t fathom why he refused to acknowledge that there was no point in trying to change fate.

Felíne sighed and stepped out of his reach, gaze dropping to the ancient trunk at her feet. The first time she’d seen it, she’d assumed it was filled with more weapons and armor, possibly additional texts. The lid had been propped open, and Felíne saw none of those things. Instead, whatever lay inside shimmered like liquid silver, drawing her curiosity and distracting her from their impasse.

Kal tracked her change in focus.

“What is it?” Felíne dropped to a crouch and reached out a hand to skim her fingers over the strange, luminescent fabric.