“I was talking about my studies with Leon,” she snaps. “You had no right to interfere.”
My mind catches on the word. “What studies?”
A flush creeps up her neck. “It’s not important.”
She turns to leave, but my hand moves before I can think better of it, fingers closing gently around her wrist. She stops, going still in a way that makes my pulse spike.
“What is he teaching you?”
“None of your business.” Her voice is ice.
“You’re acting as my liaison.” I keep my tone even, controlled. “Therefore, I need to know.”
Her face drains of color. The change is so sudden, so complete, that alarm cuts through my possessiveness. She yanks her arm away like I’ve burned her, rubbing her wrist even though I know I was only just holding her back.
“I was never given any formal education,” she says harshly, the words coming quickly and defensively. “I can only read and write. Leon has been teaching me the education that nearly every soldier or common wolf shifter has. About the Kingdom. History. All that stuff.”
The admission stuns me. I stare at her, trying to reconcile this news with the sharp, observant woman I’ve been watching these past weeks. “Why didn’t you learn it as a child?”
Her jaw clenches. “I’m the first-born daughter. My parents wanted sons.” Each word is bitten off, laced with old humiliation. “They chose not to educate me apart from the basics and forced me to be a warrior instead. I’m good at fighting but nothing else. I’m not smart. Leon is teaching Astra, and I was trying to learn while I was guarding her. He noticed and said he could help me while I’m acting as your liaison.”
Not smart. The words make my wolf snarl. She thinks she’s not smart because no one bothered to teach her. A hot and furious streak winds through my chest—not at her, but at everyone who made her believe this lie.
“I can teach you,” I say before I can stop myself.
Her eyes flash. “No thanks.”
She starts walking away, and I move after her, catching her arm again, more gently this time. “I’m serious, Daciana.”
She doesn’t turn around, but she stops. I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way she’s holding herself rigid.
“I can teach you far more than that boy can,” I say quietly. “My pack holds the most ancient knowledge in the Kingdom. Histories and texts that even the Council doesn’t have access to.”
She hesitates. I see the slight loosening of her posture, the way her breathing changes. I push the advantage, moving closer to her ear.
“I’m a good teacher.” My voice drops, becomes coaxing. “I taught Artisem, and he is known as one of the most respected scholars in our pack now, along with being a warrior.”
She turns slowly, and there’s a fragile look in her eyes that makes my chest ache. “You’re not saying this to mock me?”
The question confuses me. “What? Why would you—”
“I’ve had a few soldiers offer before.” She tries to shrug, but it doesn’t convey nonchalance. She is trying to conceal how she was hurt. “When I came to them, they just—they were just joking. Leon is the only one who’s been serious.”
White-hot rage floods through me. I want names. I want to know which soldiers thought it would be amusing to humiliate Daciana for wanting to learn, for trying to better herself. My free hand curls into a fist at my side.
“I will never mock you,” I say. The words come out rougher than I intend. Raw. “And it’s never too late to learn. I admire the fact that you want to.”
Her eyes search mine, looking for the lie, the trap. They find none.
“I’ll teach you in the evenings,” I continue, releasing her arm. “After your duties are done for the day. We can start tomorrow, if you’d like.”
“Okay,” she says finally, quietly. “Thank you.”
She turns and heads back toward my study, her steps measured, controlled. I watch her go, tracking every movement until she disappears through the doorway.
I sigh quietly, running a hand through my hair.
I’m already spending too much time with her. Already fighting the pull of a bond I’ve tried to sever. Already struggling not to reach for her every time she’s in the same room.
