Page 46 of A Cruel Kindness

Peter laughed sarcastically. “I certainly hope not.” There was good reason for that statement, but one I couldn’t dwell on right now.

“This is fucking annoying. I can’t think straight.” I sounded like a petulant child, but that wasn’t far off from what I felt.

“And what exactly is it you need to be thinking clearly about?” Peter pressed.

Busted. Of course, I was. Nothing got past Peter. “I’ll leave you out of it, but I will be looking for him.”

Peter sighed heavily, disappointment clear in his features. Carson was as close with him as I was. “Don’t tell me anything you do so I have plausible deniability. But I will caution you that you may not get the answers you want.”

“I want to know what happened. I don’t care what the answer is.” I knew that wasn’t entirely true, but that was what I was telling myself.

Peter sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He may not be the person you knew. At least in the last few months. Whatever compelled him to defect in the manner he did … regardless of the motivations, the Carson you and I knew wouldn’t have done it like that.”

I nodded, even as pain lanced over my chest. He was my brother, the only person I’d had over the last six years that gave me some sort of hope for my life. A family, when I didn’t know when I’d see the one I’d left behind.

“It might be a better use of your time to focus on what’s in front of you. A paranima is a rare gift,” Peter continued.

I groaned, leaning back in the chair and staring at the ceiling. Bellamy was quickly becoming a part of my life that I couldn’t help but view as a gift. That only meant it would hurt more when she was ripped away from me. “You sound like a priest.”

Peter barked a laugh. “Pardon me for clinging to a little faith in a shitty situation. You’ve clearly been blessed. Lean into it.”

Oh, he knew something. I lifted my head and narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you know?”

Peter chuckled under his breath. “Take a trip down to the stables. Lucky found his mate.”

“What?” I asked, shooting forward in my chair. Lucky was my horse, though on Muli they were called equin. The bond between rider and steed was much stronger, a lifetime relationship that gave you insight into their emotions.

They also mated for life.

Lucky had the playful disposition of a teenager, but it seemed like that would change.

“Who is it?” I asked, even though I had a feeling. There was a particular wild horse that had always seemed to snag his attention.

Horses only mated—officially—after they had a rider. Which meant—

“Clover,” Peter answered. “I assume she recognized Bellamy.”

It wasn’t that I hadn’t been painfully aware of the seriousness of my bond to Bellamy, but the horses were tapped into the world, to the deities that controlled it, more than we were. If Clover chose Bellamy, then promptly recognized Lucky as her mate…that added to the weight in my chest.

I fell further into the chair, feeling restless. The problem with that feeling is it made me want to spur into action. There was no use feeling paralyzed by your problems. I functioned best when I just got up and fixed it.

My body was buzzing with the need for an assignment, even if that meant climbing into a tree and spying on a Muli camp all night until my legs cramped so bad they felt like they were about to fall off.

Peter knew that, sighing out a laugh. “You’re off tonight. Go into camp. Get a drink.” That was all the permission I needed. Without another word, I rested my hands on my thighs and stood, ready to get the fuck out of here.

Right as I was turning toward the door, trying to restrain the urge to run, Peter’s voice interrupted my return to Bellamy. “And Soren?” The question in his voice forced me to turn. When I did, I found his expression serious. “No fighting.”

“What do you know?” It had to be something.

Peter shook his head, running a hand over his jaw. “Everyone here is Matched. If Muli soldiers show up, Match-less and looking at your paranima, I don’t want to be responsible for cleaning up human remains.”

My first inclination was to dismiss that warning with a laugh, but then his words sunk in. He was right, there would be people who had nothing stopping them from trying to take advantage of Bellamy’s staggering beauty. As calmly as I could, though I was considering breaking the door off its hinges to unleash some energy, I responded, “I’ll keep it above board. No high treason.”

The joke cut a little too close to home, especially considering our conversation about Carson, but Peter forced a smile despite it.

With a final look in his direction, I left. Once I was free and clear of his line of sight, I shamelessly sped up my steps in the direction of our cabin. I could hold tight to my resolve to keep my hands far away from Bellamy and still want to spend most of my time in her presence.

That was normal. It should keep the Bond happy enough.