Page 57

Kesta stepped between the argument before it gathered momentum. “Tavi is right.”

Dreven looked at her. “You want to keep it?”

“No. I want to keep my hand.” She lifted her wrist between them. “Until we know what is under the casing, cutting it off is more dangerous than leaving it alone.”

His tail moved once behind him, betraying the frustration that did not otherwise reach his face.

“I do not like it.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

Dreven’s eyes narrowed.

For a moment Kesta expected another argument, but when he spoke his voice was quieter.

“You do that often.”

“Do what?”

“You assume that because I do not force the issue, I agree with you.”

Kesta went still.

Dreven met her eyes directly. “I can respect your decision and still believe it is wrong.”

The words reached deeper than she wanted them to.

She thought of the gate. The storm bar. The ravine. Every warning she had treated as though it came from Major Senn simply because another powerful male had spoken it.

Some of Dreven’s instincts were controlling.

Some were not.

The difference was becoming harder to ignore.

She looked down at the cleaned cut on his arm before meeting his gaze again.

“Sometimes.”

Dreven’s expression changed.

He had not expected that.

Kesta felt heat creep into her face but refused to look away.

“That isn’t an apology.”

“I know.”

A slow smile touched his mouth. “Could it eventually become one?”

“Don’t become greedy.”

His eyes warmed.

“I will attempt restraint.”

Kesta gave him a skeptical look. “You keep using that word.”