Chapter 17 #2
Tentatively, I twist around in the chair, my legs off to one side and my arms resting on the low back.
I’m not sure what I expected, but Kallan unlacing the top of his tunic wasn’t it.
The sight makes unexpected warmth swirl low in my stomach.
Strange though he may be with his cat-like ears, claws, and tail, it would be a lie to say he’s not attractive with his strong, angular features and bright caramel eyes that hold such depth.
Though more than that, it’s the way he’s treats me, how he makes me feel safe, both now and before.
That trait is more attractive than any physical feature.
He pulls part of his tunic aside, and I hiss as a wicked-looking scar comes into view just above one pectoral.
“This is awful.” That their medicine could not heal it cleanly like they me says much about its brutality.
The medical researcher in me wants to examine the wound, and without thinking, I reach for him, ready to run my fingers along the strange scar and examine it more closely.
But just before I touch him, I notice his whole body stiffen.
Shit. I snap my hand back to myself and drop it into my lap. I know better than to touch people without permission.
“What happened?” I ask to cover my faux pas.
“She was”—he clears his throat—“very forward in her advances.”
“Oh. Oh !” My eyes widen at the realization of what he’s saying. “Then you two—”
“No.” His cheeks flush, and damn if it doesn’t make him look suddenly younger and innocent. Not that I know how old he is exactly, especially since fae age differently from humans, but his appearance paints him not much older than me. “It was too fast, too soon. I did not have time to desire her.”
Curious. That might not stop most males, especially fae ones who would gain power from such a joining. And particularly not desperate kings.
“But she was very good with her words.” His expression turns pinched. “The moment I let my guard down, she struck with a poisoned blade.” He touches the scar on his chest before releasing his shirt and letting the material slide back over it.
“Poison,” I whisper. “You are lucky she didn’t strike your heart.”
A bitter smile twists his lips. “Luckier still that I trained myself to build a resistance to poisons from a young age. That alone would have killed most fae.”
What must his early years have been like to poison himself over and over again in the hopes it might one day save him as it did? My heart aches at the thought.
“What happened to her?” I make myself ask.
His gaze shadows and cuts away. “Katiya and some of my guards were nearby. They heard me cry out.” There’s a thick bob of his throat before he continues. “It…it was not how I would have had things go.”
There is much he doesn’t say, but I can piece it together just fine, the knowledge leaving me a little numb. “Even though she tried to kill you?”
“Even so. All life is precious.”
“It is,” I agree. There’s a dark irony in the values that Kallan holds versus how the Seelie and humans see him.
How much else have we gotten wrong? Those thoughts try to lead me down a dark path, so I do what I always do when my emotions try to get the best of me: I turn them to my work.
“You know, for all that humans have learned and developed, our ability to treat injuries is still far less than yours.”
“You studied healing, yes?”
I nod. I told him as much when I traveled with him as Elias. “Your wound appears to have fully healed, but it happened not that long ago, right?” At his agreement, I continue, “We could not manage that where I’m from. It’s incredible what magic can do.”
“Magic, yes, though ours is very weak compared to the Seelie. Potions and salves are used for much of our healing, even mine.”
“See, impressive,” I say. “And the scar was so smooth, yet I’ll bet the original wound was not.”
The barest hint of a grin lights on his face, and Kallan pulls his shirt aside again, exposing his scar. “You can inspect me if you wish to look at it more closely.”
Oh God. Suddenly, I want to melt into the chair and disappear. Simple words, innocent words, but the thickness in his voice as he said them has me thinking all the wrong things.
“Or I could finish your hair,” he adds, dropping his shirt.
Much safer. I twist around until I’m sitting forward in the chair once more, hands firmly in my lap. “Yes, please. Thank you for doing this.”
Kallan picks up his dagger and gets to work on the other side of my hair.
“You’re not what I expected,” he says after a few moments.
My brows furrow, and I try not to be offended. “You expected me to be like the other human?”
“I was not sure what I would find,” he admits.
“Over time, I have learned to feel the land. It’s a talent all fae monarchs possess, as I’ve come to understand it.
A connection to the territory that fuels our power and that we sustain in return.
But on the day you arrived, I felt something I never have before. ”
“Oh?” I ask at his pause.
“It’s hard to explain. It felt a bit like a tear, but it was not painful.
It was a sensation I could not ignore, though I tried to.
Fearing it may be a threat of some kind, I shifted, following the pull in the magic.
That’s when I discovered the doorway to your world and began to understand what had happened.
Then I felt something else, and I followed it, finding you. ”
“You followed me for a while before you let me see you, didn’t you?” I’d thought I felt something, a sensation like someone watching me, but the world was so strange, it was hard to be sure.
“I did,” he admits. “I wanted to get a sense of who you were, and I knew that would be complicated if you knew exactly who I was.”
Kallan trims one last bit of hair and sets his dagger aside.
I look back over one shoulder at him. “You mean, you wanted to know if I was sent to kill you too?”
Maybe it’s risky to throw it out there, but the truth is there, whether I say it or not.
He holds my gaze. “That was part of it.”
“You weren’t scouting ahead when you left me those times either, were you?”
“Briefly, a few feet ahead,” he says, almost like he’s amused with himself and the lie that is not a lie. “But no, there are many dangers for us right now. I did not feel I could be away too long.”
It was a risk, spending time with me alone, even after his life was nearly ended. And yet, he took it anyway. Spent time away from his people, his duty, because of what I am and what I could be if I’m not a threat.
“And what did you decide about me?” I swallow the tightness in my throat.
“I believe you know.” He cups the side of my head, those long, claw-tipped fingers threading through my hair.
I suck in a sharp breath at the intimacy of the touch. He’s so close I can feel the warmth radiating from him.
“Kallan.” Damn the husky way his name leaves my lips.
“Let me…” His throat bobs. I hold my breath, waiting for his next words. “Let me show you your hair.”
Oh. Gently, he turns my head back toward the desk in front of me, before pulling it away. His other slides across the wood, leaving a mirror-like surface in its wake.
I gape at the sudden change. “You made a mirror.”
“A temporary illusion of one,” he replies, and I catch his reflection where he has risen behind me.
“Like when you changed your appearance when we first met?”
“That was much more complicated and took considerable magic to maintain,” he replies matter-of-factly.
I glance down at my reflection, turning my head this to see the different angles.
I’ve had longer hair most of my life, so it’s strange to see it now just falling to my shoulders.
But I don’t hate it. Actually, the way he trimmed it looks really nice.
Better than my usual stylist, surprisingly enough.
Not something I would have ever expected to think about an Unseelie, much less their king.
“You’re quite good at this,” I remark, still staring at my reflection.
He glances sideways toward the door. “Katiya is quite particular about her hair. She’s had much to say about my skills over the years.”
I turn toward him with a little grin. “It’s really cute that you do your sister’s hair.”
A faint blush paints his cheeks as he slides his attention back to me. “Speaking of my sister, she is waiting outside with Vada and others. I expect they’ve brought food.”
My smile drops away as I quickly look around the room, searching for a window, camera, or anything that I already know doesn’t exist. “How do you know that?”
He points to his ears. “My senses are very strong.” Turning toward the door, he says, “Come in.”
Katiya wastes no time, bursting in like she owns the place. “My senses are very strong too.” She winks. Then to her brother, “She thinks you are cute?”
Her features wrinkle up like she finds that funny.
I straighten a little. How much of our conversation did they hear?
Vada and two others enter, one carrying a tray of food that has my stomach rumbling, even though I have no idea what it contains.
“I will return soon,” Kallan says.
My anxiety spikes. “No!”
Everyone stops and stares at me.
“I mean,” I hedge, “you’re not going back to the front already, are you?”
His gaze softens. “No, that conflict has ebbed for now. I want to look into an ingredient for your brother.”
I blink at him, momentarily stunned. “You still plan to help me find them?”
He halts, leveling me with a contemplative stare. “I said I would.”
“But that was before, when you were Elias.”
He closes his eyes, and a sad smile blooms on his strong face before he opens them again. “I was still me.”
And for some reason, I feel like my heart cracks open as he turns and walks out the door, leaving me with Katiya, Vada, and the others.
“You’ll want to eat,” Katiya says. “I had them bring my favorites.” When she catches me still looking at the door, she adds, “Oh, don’t worry, he’ll be back soon. This is his room after all.”
“His room.” I turn around, taking in the space in a new light. His room. My body flushes. Of course it is. Why wouldn’t he want me close? But it’s so sparse, so simple, especially for a king. And for some reason, that leaves me terribly sad.