“Kyzaire,” came Syndras’s careful and hushed voice. I’d never heard her use that tone. “I think it’s best if you come back in the morning. After you’ve cooled down.”
“I’m not leaving without her,” he replied, his mind set, her words dismissed.
Finally, he pulled me up from the chair, and the trews I’d been mending, entirely forgotten, fell to the floor.
“We can talk about this back at the?—”
His words abruptly cut off when his gaze lowered to my rounding belly.
His hand was curled around the back of mine, and I felt the palpable tension shoot through him, fascinating and tangible.Such strength,I thought, dazed.
“What…” He trailed off, the word nothing but a stunned exhale. Then I felt tension rip through him. Apprehension shot through my belly when I saw the muscles in his shoulders begin to tremble and grow, becoming larger.
“Kaldur,” I said quickly, my gaze darting to Syndras, “don’t.”
“Is that mine orhis?” he growled. His voice was becoming darker, more gravelly. More unrecognizable.
I’d never seen a Kylorr go into a berserker rage. I’d only everheard about them in stories, the trigger almost always a sense of anger or a need to protect and defend.
I knew which one Kaldur’s would come from.
Two things became apparent to me.
The first being that Kaldur had no idea about the letter that had been sent to me. He’d hadnoidea that I was pregnant, nor had he written it or had knowledge of it.
He wouldn’t be able to fakethis. The sheer emotion and shock, the rage and the sorrow—which didn’t make sense to me…those couldn’t be faked.
And the second realization was that if I didn’t get Kaldur out of Syndras’s home, he might very well go into a berserker rage right here and now and destroy it entirely.
“I’ll go with you,” I said quietly. “Let’s leave now.”
Kaldur blinked, his nostrils flaring. His shoulders lowered, but his voice was unchanged.
“Is thathis?” he asked again, the words clipped, his eyes a darkening tunnel of rage and, strangely, despair. “Is that his child? Tell me right now, Erina, or Iswearon Raazos?—”
“No,” I breathed. “It’s yours, Kaldur. The child isyours.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Syndras lean against the wall, as if she needed it to support her weight. My alarm grew, though Kaldur seemed to process the words.
“Mine?” he growled.
“Yes,” I whispered, pressing my hand against his cheek—the side that was scarred, a scar I still didn’t know how he’d received. His skin was so hot, like he had a raging fever. “Let’s go. Now. I’ll return to the keep with you. But let’s leave now.”
He pulled me against him immediately, and his clothes soaked me. But what surprised me was that he pressed his face into my neck and a tingle rushed down my spine when I felt his deep inhale.
“Missed you, missed you,” he murmured, “but I found you now. I’ll make this right—I promise.”
My eyes stung with tears. He was trembling and his skin was so hot that steam was rising off his wet clothes. He’d been close to a rage. He hadn’t known I was pregnant. Then who’d sent the letter?
It didn’t matter, I decided. Not right now.
I needed to get him away from Syndras and back to the keep.
“Take me back,” I ordered him, feeling the press of my belly against him. “Take me back home.”
His shoulders finally relaxed at the words, and all I felt was relief. Over his shoulder, Syndras was studying me.
She inclined her head at me. A thank-you. A confirmation. A promise.
