“We have the same color hair and eyes, but that’s where the similarities end. If not for those two features, you might not even know we were siblings at all.”
“What’s her name?”
“Selene.” Genuine affection crinkled the corners of Ronin’s eyes. It made him look younger, less burdened. It also made Mireille’s heart gallop in her chest. “She still lives in the cottage where we grew up.”
Mireille fiddled with the edges of her napkin, needing to occupy her hands. “Why didn’t you go back there? After the war, and after…”
“You can say it.” All the warmth drained from his expression. “After I was disgraced? There was nothing there for me anymore. There never had been. Didn’t have many other options outside of coming up here to the fighting rings and capitalizing on my fame, so…” He raised his palms. “Here I am. What about you? Where were you from originally?”
The waiter returned with their drinks, uncorking the wine and pouring Mireille a glass. Ronin’s pupils dilated as he took a long swig of his Delirium, and the hardness that had overtaken his features softened.
Mireille sipped her wine, letting the dry, oaky taste settle her own nerves. She’d never been comfortable talking about herself. And certainly not about her abnormal upbringing.
“I spent my childhood alone with my mother in the Oread Woods.” A thoughtful frown tugged at Ronin’s mouth. “What?”
He shook his head. “Not the answer I was expecting.”
Mireille returned her glass to the table, tightening a fist around the thin stem. “Whatwereyou expecting?”
Ronin’s marbled gaze bore into her and she pulled her shoulders back, despite her instinct to cower at his intensity.
“I assumed you came from one of those high-class Beastrunner families. Raised by a series of nannies in Delos or something while your rich parents flitted about the continent with their monied friends.”
Mireille bristled. “Just the one parent.”
Ronin’s face twisted in sympathy. “What happened to your father?”
Mireille could hardly bear it. Cold sweat coated her skin, and her head began to pound. Too much sharing. She took a gulping sip of her wine and nearly choked. “Next question.”
Ronin regarded her carefully, as if she were a skittish animal. “Alright, I won’t pry. But you’re the one with the list of questions.”
She smoothed the paper, perusing it for a less volatile subject. “What was your most fervent childhood dream?”
Ronin snickered. “Mostfervent? Did you really use that word? Let me see.” He leaned across the table to snatch up the paper.
She pulled it against her chest. “It means?—”
“I know what fervent means,” he muttered, easing back into his chair. “I’m notthatdumb. Despite your initial assumptions.”
“Says the male who thought I was some rich snob.” She pursed her lips. “You gonna answer the question or do you want to review the rest of my vocabulary choices?”
He sighed, smearing the beads of condensation gathering on his Delirium bottle. “I wanted… When I shifted for the first time, my mother fainted.”
“Actuallyfainted?”
“Yes.”
“What does this have to do with your childhood dream?”
“You got places to be?” he grunted. “I’m getting there.”
He took a swig of the elixir, darting his tongue out to catch a drop on his bottom lip and High Gods help her, Mireille’s toes actually curled.
He didn’t seem to notice her gawking. “It happened in the back yard of our cottage when I was four. I can still feel the heated, prickly sensation that rushed through my veins when he popped out for the first time.”
Mireille remembered her own first shift just as well. As violent and satisfying as an aggressive sneeze. Or a really good orgasm.
She shookthatunhelpful thought from her mind as he continued, “My mother screamed, then toppled onto the grass. When my father came out to see what all the commotion was about, the look of pride on his face… I’ll never forget it. He paraded me around the village after, showing me off, encouraging me to shift. Which I was more than happy to do. Everyone wanted a look at the ‘biggest wolf the world had ever known.’ That’s how my father always referred to me. I got off on it—the shock on their faces that inevitably transformed into awe. I was certain I was destined for greatness. That I was meant to make a mark on this world.”
