“You…” She trailed off, her voice husky. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks flushed. “You knew.”
I turned away from her, stalking toward the window behind my desk. The blood beneath my skin felt like it was buzzing. I wanted to scratch at my flesh until it stopped. The exhaustion I’d felt earlier was gone. I could fly to Laras and back and not feel winded. This power, this strength…it was incredible.
And it also meant I was fucked.
Truly fucked.
“I thought…I thought it wasrare. Really, really rare. I never even thought that…” She trailed off.
What in Raazos’s blood had I beenthinking?
That’s because I hadn’t been thinking,I thought, anger rising though I held it at bay.
Already I was hungering for more. Over my shoulder, my gaze fastened on her pulse, zeroing in on it. Venom flooded onto my tongue, and I swallowed down the sweet taste of it, forcing myself to look away. Her scent was clinging to me. Every breath I took, all I could smell was her. Her blood, her skin, her need, her warmth.
“Kythel, will you look at me?” came her softened voice.
I turned. I clasped my arms behind my back, though it only stretched my vest tighter across my chest. I felt constricted. Suffocated. I wanted to tear off every stitch of clothing I had because only then would I be able to breathe.
“What does this mean?” she asked, finding the strength in her voice. She peered at me carefully. “For us?”
She knew what akyranabond was, that much was clear. I wondered if her father had told her. If her father had been bonded with Ruaala and that was why she’d done what she’d done. It would make sense. Losing akyranawould make anyone slowly descend into madness and grief.
“Our agreement won’t change,” I informed her. “You will be my blood giver until the next moon winds. Then we are done.”
She didn’t frown or scowl. Instead, she peered at me harder, and I had the urge to scratch at my skin again because I felt like she was burrowing beneath it with that piercing look. Did humans feel the bond as strongly as the Kylorr did? I couldn’t be certain.
“Yes?” I prompted, tone hardening, needing to hear her say it.
“Yes,” she finally said. A part of me wished that she were ignorant of thekyranabond. A part of me knew that if she were, it would make the end of this all the easier.
“Wait here,” I told her, striding past, holding my breath as I did so I wouldn’t smell her. She stayed facing the window, her back to me, when I reached the threshold of the door. “I’ll have a keeper take you back to RaanaDyaan.”
“No,” she said.
I stiffened. This was what I’d feared. She’d start making demands of me, things I knew better than to entertain. Would she want to stay in the keep now? My own bed? It didn’t matter that my fangs dripped at the thought. It was a matter of duty, and I knew better than to entertain such things with a female without a drop of noble blood in her.
“Have your keeper take me to the cottage, please,” she said. Millie turned to face me, catching my scowl.
“I don’t like you being there so late at night, especially in this storm,” I said, the words out before I could stop them. As if on cue, I heard the clap of anakkiumstrike in the distance. “They will take you to RaanaDyaan.”
“Then I’ll walk,” she shrugged, going to the wet pile of clothes on—still—trembling legs.
“What in Raazos’s blood do you think you’re doing?” I asked quietly, watching as she plucked up the soaking tunic I’d taken off her. She reached for the small device I’d placed into her hair, fumbling with it.
“Drying my clothes,” she said. “How does this work exactly? Can you show me?”
Clothes? I wouldn’t call them even that, I thought, glaring at the hole in her boot.
“The keeper will bring you new clothes,” I growled, an unexpected irritation rising. “Now that you don’t need to travel to Horrin, I expect that you’ll purchase items that are more durable to wear as you trek through Stellara. Ones without holes and popped stitching. Lesana pays you well enough, doesn’t she?”
Millie blinked at me. A sharp ache pinched my chest when I realized she looked slightly embarrassed, but I was too on edge to apologize.
She cleared her throat. “How often do you usually feed?”
“What?”
“I’ll need to start takingbaanye,” she said, changing the subject entirely, clutching the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Won’t I? I’ll need to know how much I should take, depending on your preferred feeding schedule.”
