Page 71 of Revealing Fate

Kal released her wrist and reclined in the chair, one arm casually draped over the back. The weak firelight played over the contours of his pectorals and the ridges of his abdomen as though eager to touch him. If only she were made of candlelight. “If I wanted you dead, I’d have let the grim finish what it started.”

She ignored his biting remark. “What time is it?”

“Nearly three in the morning.”

Still hours from daybreak. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

Kal tilted his head as he regarded her. “Why? Were you planning an attack?”

“No.”

“Maybe you hoped to make another foolhardy escape. Let me help you.” He jerked his chin behind her. “There’s the door.”

“I’m not trying to escape,” she retorted.

“No?” Those all-seeing obsidian orbs slid over her, snagging near her bare feet. “With all the forethought you typically put into your escapes, I’d say you look dressed for a long trek through the woods.”

Felíne’s toes curled into the rug. Ass. She scowled and crossed her arms, the hem of her tunic sliding up along the exposed skin of her thighs.

Kal’s focus intensified. That wasn’t just the glimmer of the candle; she saw an unmistakable flash of gold. “You’re not wearing pants,” he said. “I gave you pants.”

“They, ah, they didn’t fit.”

Kal went utterly still. Her thighs clamped together. A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Perhaps I was wrong,” he mused, voice rough. “Maybe you are a spy. A temptress sent to seduce me for information.”

Little alarm bells began tolling somewhere deep in Felíne’s sleep-addled psyche.

Kalevar leaned forward, resting his forearms on his muscled quads. The position brought his head closer to Felíne’s waist. He inhaled. “Maybe you planned the whole thing. Put yourself in danger to garner my sympathies. Gambled on my interference. Bathed yourself with my soap, clothed yourself in my shirt, and slept half-naked in my bed.” He lifted his face, eyes trailing up her body. “All to entice me into lowering my guard.”

Something wanton stirred in Felíne’s blood, overriding her common sense. This man, this moment, was trouble. She had a decidedly difficult time controlling whatever wild impulse overcame her when left alone with Kalevar Kaine. And it felt good.

Circumstance dictated they were enemies. He claimed not to hate her, but he most certainly didn’t trust her either. Blessed divine, she didn’t trust her.

Against all wit and reason, Felíne stepped closer to Kal. He straightened, widening his knees, leaning back to appraise her. His gaze scorched everywhere it landed. “Is it working?” she asked.

His eyes glittered, delicate golden filaments threading through his irises’ sable strands. “That depends. How much are you willing to sacrifice for the sake of your mission?”

She leaned closer. “How much is required to get what I want?”

“And what do you want?”

Felíne reached out and trailed a finger along the edge of Kal’s jaw, tracing the rasping stubble. What to ask for? She didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep or the enchantment of the early hour, but the way Kal was looking at her made her feel sensual and powerful. Like she could ask anything of him, and he would bend the very fabric of creation to deliver it.

“I want you to say my name.”

Time stopped. It was the wrong thing to say.

The heat in Kal’s gaze guttered, a flame going out. The gilded treasures that had risen to the surface of his dark sea sank once more into their depths, tragically beyond her reach. She wanted to grasp at them and pull them back.

No, she thought. Stay with me.

Somewhere in the forest, a wolf howled.

Kal’s attention shifted, and he pushed to his feet, stepping around her to open the front door. A breeze stirred the strands of Felíne’s still-damp hair, raising gooseflesh along her exposed limbs. The air had been heady and warm just moments before. Now it chilled her bones.

She followed him to the threshold, wrapping her arms around herself. “What is it?” she asked softly.

Kal reached for the shirt he’d left draped over the back of a chair and slipped it over his head. He stepped out onto the porch, cloaking himself with the night’s colors. “We have company,” came his quiet reply. Then he disappeared entirely.