I reached forward for a small bowl of broth, but he placed a few chunks of meat inside it before I spooned the silky liquid out.
“What doesleikavimean?” I asked quietly.
His jaw worked as he chewed his food, flexing powerfully. When he swallowed, he said, “In Dakkari, it means small, beautiful one.”
My breath hitched, my brow furrowing.Beautiful?
I’d never thought of myself as such. Viola had always been the beauty. My brothers were very handsome as well, but I’d received none of their good looks.
He thought I was beautiful?
I spooned more broth between my lips to try to hide some of my shocked embarrassment…and pleasure. A rather sizable, vain part of me liked that he thought I was beautiful. Iwantedto be beautiful…for him.
And yet, as I thought of Viola, I knew that beauty came at a price. And if my sister had her way, she’d hide herself away forever. She’d wish to be so hideous that no one ever looked at her again.
I sobered, my chest squeezing.
Tonight as I’d looked at the moon, it was nearly full. I had a little over two weeks until the black moon. Barely any time at all. Already, half of my time was gone. And what had I accomplished?
Making candles in a Dakkari horde.
Breathing in a slow breath, I decided that we needed to get this conversation over with. It was past time.
“What do you think it is that I can do?” I asked him.
He took a healthy swig from his wine, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
“Nik,” he said, surprising me. “I want you to tell me. In your own words.”
Fair enough.
I took a deep breath. “I can sense someone’s emotional state. I can enter their mind and understand what they feel, though I cannot understand why.”
Davik stopped eating to give me his full attention.
“A-and I can change someone’s emotions,” I said softly, carefully. His eyes flashed. “Most of the time, I can bend someone’s will to my own.”
He peered at me, his brow furrowed. “Most of the time?”
“It doesn’t always work,” I admitted softly. “Sometimes the mind is too strong-willed.”
“Is that why the Ghertun sentyoutoDothik?” he asked. I could practicallyseethe way his mind was working.
Biting my lip, I nodded.
“They know about what you can do?” he growled softly, gripping the edge of the table, his claws beginning to scrape at the wood.
“No,” I said. “Not specifically.”
“What does that mean?”
I placed my hand on his when he made a deep mark into the table. He frowned down at our hands and then seemed surprised when he saw what he’d done.
When I leaned back to pull away, he caught my palm, keeping it in his. When the back of his claw traced my thumb, surprisingly gently, I shivered.
“D-during the cold season, I crossed paths with Lozza. One of his wives had birthed him another four sons,” I told him. “There was a celebration held and the higher rankingsibiwere invited.”
His lips pressed together.
