I mutter it under my breath, but I know he hears me. Enhanced hearing and all that.
He turns his head slightly, his eyes finding mine. There’s something in his expression I can’t read—regret, maybe? But it’s gone too fast.
I don’t give him a chance to explain. I spin on my heel and march toward the door, aware of both their gazes following me. My heart pounds, a confusing mix of hurt and anger and something else. Something that feels precariously like disappointment.
Because for a moment there, when he was sharing his family’s history, I saw vulnerability in him. Real emotion beneath all that stoic control.
And I wanted more of it.
I tossonto my side for the hundredth time, bunching the pillow beneath my head. The sheets twist around my legs, suddenly too hot, too confining. I kick them off and stare at the ceiling, watching shadows dance across the ornate molding.
Sleep refuses to come.
Tomorrow, Kieran will meet with two of the candidates whose profiles I reviewed. Women from noble houses, educated, cultured. Everything I’m not. The thought sits like a stone in my chest.
Is that why he was so snappy today? Distracted by the prospect of choosing a mate?
I roll onto my side, pressing my palms against my eyes. He’s in his forties—or late thirties at least. Males that age are usually mated already, settled with their desired partners and building their futures. Why hasn’t he chosen anyone?
The question gnaws at me, and I hate that it does. Hate that I care.
Unable to bear the restless tossing and turning any longer, I slip from my bed and pad across the cold, stone floor to the small drawer where I keep the herbs Selene gave me. I think about thetime when the nightmares had gotten bad enough that I couldn’t hide the exhaustion anymore. I asked her for something to help me sleep without dreaming, and she pressed this pouch into my hands with careful instructions.
But I haven’t been able to bring myself to use them. Haven’t wanted to admit I need help, that I’m weak enough to require herbs just to get through the night.
Tonight, though, my thoughts won’t stop spinning. It’s not nightmares keeping me awake this time, but it doesn’t matter. I need sleep.
I open the pouch and pull out a handful of dried leaves. Selene said something about the amount, but I can’t remember what. This looks about right. I brew myself a cup of tea, the familiar ritual soothing even as I wait for the water to heat. The scent is pleasant—chamomile and something earthier I can’t identify.
When it’s ready, I carry the steaming cup to my window seat, curling up there in just my shirt and underwear. The stone is cool against my bare legs as I tuck them beneath me.
Steam rises from the cup as I sip, staring out at the darkened grounds. The tea is slightly bitter but not unpleasant. My thoughts inevitably drift back to Kieran.
He never interacts with any woman aside from me. The realization settles over me slowly. The only women he brought with the delegation are servants, and Artisem handles them. Not once have I seen him engage in conversation with any female at court beyond basic courtesy.
But he talks to me. Really talks to me.
He has expensive fruits waiting for me when I come for tutoring. Exotic things I’ve never tasted before, arranged on a plate like an offering. Sometimes he’ll peel an apple while I’m reading, his knife moving in smooth, sure strokes, and then he’ll hand me the slices without a word.
It’s all so intimate, these small gestures that mean nothing and everything at once.
I don’t understand his intentions. Maybe he’s just being kind. Maybe this is how he treats everyone under his protection, and I’m reading too much into simple courtesy. He is meeting with those candidates tomorrow, after all. Women who actually belong in his world.
I’ve had lovers. A few, scattered across the years. Brief flings that meant nothing, made me feel nothing. Bodies in the dark that filled a temporary need and left no lasting impression. I never cared about any of them, and they never cared about me.
Ever since I came to the capital, I’ve been focused on fitting in, on proving my worth as a guard. I’ve never really looked for anything more.
Leon has always been nice to me. Sweet, even. I know Astra wants us together—she has dropped enough hints, given me enough meaningful looks. But I can’t seem to explain to my friend that my heart feels dead. Dormant. I’m just not interested in any emotional connection with a man.
Except…
Except with Kieran, a man probably over a decade older than me. I’m always thinking about him. He slips into my mind at the strangest moments. During training. While I’m walking the palace corridors. In the quiet hours before dawn when I should be sleeping.
He makes me feel comfortable in a way I’ve never experienced before. Safe, despite his power. Seen, despite my inadequacies.
When he stopped Leon from touching me the other day, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction—as if this was right, as if his protection over me was exactly how things should be. My wolf was pleased, practically preening under his attention.
My wolf adores being in Kieran’s presence. That’s another thing I don’t understand. She has never responded to anyone like this, not even during my brief affairs. But around him, she’s alert, eager, constantly pushing me closer.
