"How long do you need?"
The question surprises me with its relative reasonableness. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that clearly this is working." His gesture encompasses the space between us, acknowledgment of connection that can't be denied or dismissed. "You care about her, she obviously cares about you, and the clan is already beginning to see partnership rather than political arrangement. How long before you're ready to formalize that reality?"
I turn to study his face, looking for signs of manipulation or hidden agenda. But his expression holds genuine curiosity mixed with frustration, brother trying to understand rather than political leader planning strategy.
"I don't know," I admit with honesty that costs more than he'll ever understand. "She's been running and hiding her entire life. Trust doesn't come easily, and rushing her into permanent commitment might destroy everything we're building."
"But you do want permanent commitment." It's a statement rather than a question, an assessment that makes heat climb my neck again.
"Eventually, maybe." The words feel strange in my mouth, admission of desires I'd convinced myself were dead. "If she wants that too. If we can build something strong enough to withstand whatever political pressures come next."
Bronn nods slowly, steel-gray eyes calculating in ways that make me uneasy. "I can give you more time. A few more weeks, maybe a month. But Kai?" He rises, moving toward the door with deliberate purpose. "The clan needs to see stability. If this connection is real, if it's strong enough to base future leadership on, then eventually they need formal confirmation that goes beyond speculation."
"And if I refuse?"
He pauses with hand on the door latch, broad shoulders tense with implications neither of us wants to voice directly. "Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
The non-answer carries the weight of unspoken consequences, political realities that extend beyond personal choice into clan survival. I understand his position even as I resent the pressure it represents, duty warring with desire in ways that feel depressingly familiar.
"Have we learned anything more about Sera?" I ask, changing subject before the conversation can deteriorate further.
"Nothing useful." Frustration bleeds through his professional composure. "We know she's Stonevein, she doesn't deny that. But she won't elaborate why she came here, why she took Saela. She just keeps saying there's more than we know, that we're woefully behind."
"What does that mean?"
"We're trying to find out." His expression hardens with the kind of cold assessment that makes enemies reconsider their strategies. "She won't explain how she knew where to find Saela, won't describe the route she used to reach our territory, won't tell us anything."
The implications make my jaw clench with protective anger. "So she's a spy."
"Almost certainly." Bronn's voice carries grim certainty. "The question is if she's been in touch with the Stonevein or if they haven't been able to get in touch with her. Either way, she represents an ongoing threat that extends beyond a failed kidnapping attempt."
"What are you going to do with her?"
"Keep her under guard until she decides honesty serves her better than continued deception." His smile holds no warmth, promise of interrogation techniques that will eventually break whatever resolve keeps her silent. "She'll talk eventually. They always do."
The casual brutality in his tone reminds me why Bronn leads and I follow, why his particular combination of strategic thinking and ruthless pragmatism makes him effective in ways I could never match. But it also reinforces my determination to keep Saela as far from political machinations as possible.
"Just... don't let clan business touch her more than necessary," I say with a request that probably sounds like weakness to my brother's ears.
"I'll keep her safe," he promises, hand finally turning the latch. "But Kai? If this thing between you is real, if it's strong enough to build future leadership on, then eventually she'll have to accept that clan business is her business too."
The door closes behind him with quiet finality, leaving me alone with implications that feel like storm clouds gathering on the distant horizon. He's right, of course. If Saela and Icontinue down this path, if what started last night develops into something permanent, then she'll have to navigate political realities that go far beyond personal choice.
The thought should terrify me. Instead it makes me more determined than ever to ensure that whatever happens between us grows from genuine affection rather than external pressure. She deserves to be chosen rather than claimed, courted rather than coerced.
And if that means fighting my brother's timeline and clan expectations, then that's exactly what I'll do.
14
SAELA
Islip back to my room with bare feet silent against the wooden floor, clutching my clothes against my chest like armor. The short distance between Kai's bed and my door feels endless, each step weighted with the memory of his hands on my skin and the terrifying vulnerability of admitting I wanted him to touch me.
My room welcomes me with familiar shadows and the scent of pine from the wooden walls. I dress quickly, pulling on layers that feel strange after the warmth of skin against skin. My fingers shake slightly as I tie my hair back, muscle memory from years of needing to be ready to run at a moment's notice. The trembling frustrates me—I'm not some delicate flower that wilts at the first sign of intimacy. But something about last night cracked me open in ways I'm still trying to understand.
When I finally emerge from my room, Kai stands by the hearth feeding fresh logs into the fire. He's dressed in dark wool and leather, hair pulled back in the braided style that makes his ice-blue eyes seem even more piercing. The sight of him sends heat climbing my neck as fragments of our lovemaking surface unbidden—the way his large hands mapped every inch of mybody like he was memorizing sacred text, how his voice dropped to that rumbling bass when he told me I was beautiful.
