Page 31 of Greed of Giants

“Careful with words like that.”

“Why?”

“Because this can’t be anything more than necessity. . .”

He trailed off, but those molten eyes trapped me until I was ready to let myself drown in those embers. The silence that followed was charged, full of something. I wanted to go deeper, but I knew better.

Killian stood abruptly, turning away. “You should rest.”

“I’ve been resting. Besides, we have a lot of travel ahead of us and nothing else to do but talk. You promised answers if I helped you.”

He grunted. “That’s not what I meant.”

“None of this is what I imagined or envisioned, but at least you can give me the history of giants from your perspective. Your personal account as a prince.”

I’d meant my words to intrigue him, to appeal to some vanity or desire to have his story told. Instead, he went still. That uncanny, complete stillness that made him look more like a statue carved from living stone. Over time I’d learn his mannerisms, what the stillness meant, the glint in his eye, the twitch of his jaw. I looked forward to knowing this mysterious fire giant.

“Ask your questions,” he said finally. “But I’ll choose how and if I answer them.”

I smiled, feeling a small thrill of victory. “First, what are you going to do about clothes?”

A wry smile touched his lips, transforming his features. My breath caught at the beauty of it.

“Why clothes? It seems you enjoy looking at me. Like this.”

So he had noticed.

My skin went warm, but I refused to look away. Thiswas something we shared, or at least the awareness between us suggested we did. The way his eyes tracked my movements. The way mine followed his. The careful distance we maintained that made every interaction feel significant.

“I’m a scholar,” I said softly. “I observe, I catalog. It’s what I do.”

His smile deepened, and I felt an answering warmth bloom in my chest that had nothing to do with the fire between us. We held each other’s gaze across the flames as though it were a contest, a test of wills. Who would look away first, who would break?

My pulse quickened, his breathing changed, the fire crackled, throwing shadows across his face. And I wanted. . .

I wanted to close the distance. Wanted to know what would happen if I stood and reached for him despite the pain it would bring. Would it be worth it? Would the agony be bearable if it meant feeling his skin against mine?

I tore my gaze from his, and the loss felt physical. I took a shuddering breath, trying to calm my racing heart and unknot the desire that had tangled itself around my ribs.

“Tell me about the blood oath,” I said. “What does it mean. What are the rules?”

Those powerful shoulders shrugged. “As long as the oath is fulfilled, there will be no pain.”

“So I felt pain because I rejected it?”

“I believe so. Distance is also a factor. We are in this together. As long as we move forward together, there shouldn’t be any repercussions.”

I nodded, flipping back to the first page of my journal,where I had sketched out the runes. I turned the page toward him. “Can you tell me what these mean? The runes on the archway?”

His nostrils flared, and he reared back as though I’d insulted him. “You copied those down?”

I nodded. “I wasn’t the first. Other scholars have gone and translated the runes, but now that you’re here. Back.” I faltered, wondering which words to use. “Only you can tell me what they actually mean, the rest is only theory.”

“One thing you must know about my people, everything is steeped in magic, in ritual, and reverence. The runes written on the gateway to my kingdom are the truths my people held to. We were fire giants, fire magic at our core.”

Killian picked up a stick and broke it into four pieces. He laid them out in the shape of a rune. “This means fire. It indicates the legacy of fire and magic.”

I leaned forward, hastily making a note in my journal, heart thumping. Here it was, this was it, what the House of Scholars desired. I had truth, I had legend, and just for a moment I let myself dream of returning to the House of Scholars, to recognition and glory, and shock at what I’d been able to accomplish. No one would question my actions again, no one would stand in my way to becoming an accomplished scholar. Then I could write the words that would bring about change.