He grins up at me, eyes sparkling.
“Are you from Valmoria?” I ask.
“I grew up close to it,”he replies. “My mother was from there.”
Huh, so did I. “And did you used to speak to her like this? By writing on her skin?”
Another head shake and he spells out a more complex sentence that takes me three attempts before I can get it all.
“You weren’t always this way?” I repeat. “How do you mean? You weren’t born without the ability to speak?”
He gives a single nod, his amber eyes boring into mine before scanning my face as though he’s cataloguing my features.
“Someone did this to you?” I ask, sharing a horrified look with Kit and Frannie before returning my focus to Aster.
He nods again, and my stomach bottoms out in horror.
“Who would do something like that?” Frannie mutters.
And what have I got us involved in?
Kit clears his throat, giving me a strange look I can’t read. “Andthisis not the thing you need help with...?”
Frannie snorts from where she’s rooting through Kit’s cupboards, looking at his collection of tea.
“So you’re here because—”
I quickly fill him in on the events of last night while Kit slumps into the seat beside me.
“So, I want you to look after my skin for me,” I say. “Just for a few days, until we see if that guy comes back and starts causing trouble.”
That sends Kit off into another fit of blinking. I don’t think it’s lost on him exactly how big a deal it would be for me to leave my skin with him. It’s a bit like carving out my heart and giving it to him for safekeeping.
My mother is no doubt screaming at me from the other side of the world, telling me I’m being the biggest idiot.
But right now, keeping my skin with me is the bigger risk.
I pick it up and hesitate for just a moment before holding it out for Kit to take.
“You’re sure?” His dark eyes bore into mine, and my stomach tightens.
Nodding tightly, I thrust my skin at him again. The moment he touches it, a blast of raw sensation hits me.
Kit sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes boring into mine.
Thu-thud. Thu-thud. Thu-thud.
It seems a third heartbeat has joined the party, and it’s pounding away just as hard as one of the others.
“Reva,” Kit croaks. He glances from my face to the skin he’s cradling in his arms like it’s something precious. He then rolls up his sleeve, revealing a small circular tattoo etched in gold on his forearm.
“You marked me,” he says in a low voice. Then his face breaks into the most unexpected grin. “A mate mark.”
My legs turn to jelly and I’d be a heap on the floor if I wasn’t already sitting down.
Have the two of us never touched before? I try to think back to handshakes or backslaps, or even hugs, but I can’t think of where we might have. Kit’s always been the perfect, respectful gentleman.
“I—” I shake my head. “What in the name of the Mother Ocean is happening here?”
