Page 69 of Revealing Fate

Kal dragged a chair to the edge of the bed where Felíne sat and retrieved the shallow tin of ointment. Her hands shook only slightly as she pulled the neckline down, giving him access to her shoulder and clavicle. She barely breathed as he dipped his fingers into the fragrant balm and gently rubbed it onto her wounds.

This time, there was no whiskey in her system to dull her sensation. The claw marks burned. And beneath the ache, another fire, one that had nothing to do with the grimalkin’s attack, danced to the surface of her skin.

“My parents are the reason your family is dead,” Felíne whispered.

Kal kept his onyx eyes trained on his task. When he finally responded, his voice was quiet and even. “Did you plot with the King and Queen of Asteros to murder my parents?”

“No, but⁠—”

“Then it would be pointless for me to exact revenge upon you for their deaths. I am not so emotional, nor so reckless.” He met her gaze. “I have been planning my vengeance for a very long time. I won’t waste it on the wrong person.”

Felíne saw the sincerity in his countenance. It was written into every line of determination in his beautiful face.

Kal planned to kill her parents.

Something profound and uncomfortable squirmed in the pit of Felíne’s belly. She wasn’t sure what to do with that certainty. She could hardly blame him. What she didn’t understand was how perfectly reasonable he was being. She’d expected wrath. Fury. Violence, even. The likes of which she’d only glimpsed that first night. Not…this.

“I lied to you,” she said. “I pretended to be someone I wasn’t.”

Kal’s fingertips hovered over her collarbone. “Yes. Why did you do that?”

“I was afraid.”

“At first, of course. But after…” He trailed off.

After what? After he saved her life? After he kissed her? After he promised she was safe with him? That she could trust him?

“Why maintain the ruse?” he asked instead.

“I…” Why indeed? She could have told him. Likely should have. Maybe all of this mess and heartache could have been avoided if she’d just taken Kal at his word and trusted him with her truth. Wasn’t that one of his core traits? A man of his word? He’d already surprised her with his capability for rationality.

Perhaps that was where the real hurt lay. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t bring himself to face her until nearly a week had passed. Her underestimation of Kal’s ability to handle her honesty hadn’t simply made him angry; it had wounded him. She had hurt his feelings.

“Never mind,” he said before she could formulate an appropriate response. “It’s clear enough now that you’re not a spy for the crown.” He sat back, setting the tin of salve on the table. “What I’d like to know is why the supposed Prima of Ilistaar was outside the palace grounds in the middle of the night wearing a Fate’s cloak.”

“It wasn’t mine. It belonged to my elder.”

“So, you’re a liar and a thief.”

Felíne’s flicker of annoyance resurfaced, remembering all the times she’d accused him of the same. “I borrowed it. I didn’t know the significance when I took it.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you were in the garden.”

Exhaustion weighed Felíne down like an anchor, as though she hadn’t just enjoyed a full night’s rest in Kal’s unreasonably comfortable bed. “I just…” Gods, that night in the garden seemed so long ago. How did she explain what she’d been seeking in a way he would understand? “It’s complicated.”

He gave her a look that spoke volumes. Really? I’d say we’re way past complicated.

Touché.

Felíne took a breath. “I spent my entire life conforming to everyone else’s expectations of me. Years of study and preparation. Forcing myself to be the perfect daughter and pupil. It just culminated so quickly, and I…I wasn’t ready.” A bitter laugh escaped her at the irony. All that preparation to remain so unprepared. “But that wasn’t something I could ever admit.” No. The Prima had to suffer with a smile. She shook her head. “I just wanted a night, a few hours to myself without the weight of a million lives on my chest.” Felíne fell quiet, the silence between them louder than any spoken word. “I thought I might find a moment of peace in that garden. Instead, I found you.”

Kal went rigid. His expression was unreadable, his irises churning with something she couldn’t quite place. He sat close to her, torso angled forward. Felíne’s body responded, leaning toward him like the tide pulled to the coaxing moon.

“Kal…”

Her word fractured the moment, snapping him back to himself. He stood, features once again guarded, and she looked away. “You should eat. Your body needs the nutrients to heal.”

He didn’t have to say it. He knew that she knew. Felíne was powerless as she watched him fold the tender parts of himself behind that unbreachable iron will. She swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”