Page 52 of Revealing Fate

“Of course, you can,” Kal argued. “It’s not fucking difficult.”

She refused to look at him, refused to answer.

“Fine. Do what you want,” he bit out. Stubborn ass woman. He pointed a finger at her. “But wear that garment. You’re going to shift once you get in that ring, whether you plan to or not. The fabric will stretch to accommodate your second form.”

Kitty looked down as though seeing the clothing for the first time. A strange expression washed over her features, one that Kal could not place.

Her beauty in that moment gutted him so thoroughly, with hay sticking out of her hair and sleep lines imprinted along one cheek, that he turned on his heel and walked away. If he lingered there a moment longer, with the scent of her dried tears burning his nose, he’d lose control. He’d rip that cell door off its hinges and carry her out of the depot into the boundless breadth of Stillwater Wood.

Fuck the Conclave. Fuck the trial. And fuck her secrets.

Give him mere minutes to find the truth. He’d have her so thoroughly hazed with pleasure that she would welcome him into every hidden hollow, every dark corner of her soul. All of her, every deceitful inch, would be bared beneath him. When he finished with her, Kitty wouldn’t whisper her secrets—she’d scream them.

Kal’s tremor returned with a vengeance, and he felt his pupils dilate. He was growing really fucking tired of doing the right thing.

“Alright there, sir?”

Kal glanced up at Beaumont, who blinked at the gold in his irises. He’d been so engrossed in his conversation with Kitty that he hadn’t heard the man return to the entrance of the cell block. “Don’t call me ‘sir,’ Stonehaugh.”

The guard shrugged broad shoulders. “You oversaw the weapons training of my retinue. It’s Sir or Battle Master.”

Kal grunted. “I left clothing for Kit—” he buried a rush of annoyance, “—for the prisoner. See that she wears it for the trial.”

“And if she refuses?”

Kal ground his molars. “Then pray to the divine for her obstinate soul. For there’s nothing more I can do to help her.”

Beaumont’s shrewd, steely eyes assessed him. “You’re sure of that, sir?”

Kal didn’t answer. The truth was, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. So, he left. Stonehaugh’s question ghosted after him, long after the sound of his retreating footsteps faded in the growing dawn.

Chapter 21

BATTLE CRY

KAL STALKED TOWARD THE ARENA occupying the center of the depot. Not many people lingered outside the inner wall—it wasn’t often an outsider took their chances on a physical trial. Every member of the watch had packed inside the arena, hungry to witness the prisoner’s fate.

Saul waited at the gated entrance and raised a brow at Kal’s approach.

“Something on your mind, Saul?”

“Just making sure we aren’t going to have any trouble.”

Kal snorted and shouldered past.

“Rask,” said Saul’s surprised voice behind him.

Kal spun and faced his friend’s murderous glare. Something about the glint in Rask’s expression stirred his instincts. “I thought you left.”

“I did.” Rask fixed his frosty stare on the pit floor. “And now I’m back to make sure the bitch gets what’s coming to her.”

Kal’s muscles seized with the effort required to keep from snatching Rask’s throat in his claws, as though his fingers hungered for the memory of it. What the fuck was wrong with him? “And what is that, exactly?”

“To start? A fair fucking trial.”

Kal squared his shoulders.

Rask’s blue eyes glittered with hateful fire. “And then you’re coming with me to fix your fuck-up. We’re getting my sister out of Asteros.”