Chapter 9
DECIDE
KAL LED FELíNE THROUGH THE city, weaving in and out of trees, houses, gardens, and places of business. It was a labyrinth of natural flora melded with shurii-made structures, impossible for her to tell where the forest ended and the city began.
It was amazing how readily her appetite returned once the immediate danger of encountering Rask had been postponed. They stopped at a vendor selling smoked sausages wrapped in buttery pastry crust and ate as they walked, juice dribbling onto Felíne’s chin with each mouthwatering bite.
The farther Kal took her, the quieter Meress became, until eventually, the city itself and the people within it were left behind, leaving them enclosed by the untouched wild of the wood.
Birds called animatedly to one another high in the canopies overhead.
Lizards and other climbing creatures scurried from limb to limb.
Shy little furred beasts scrambled throughout the low-lying shrubbery as they passed.
At least one pair of eyes watched them from the shadowed space between distant trees.
Kal may as well have been crafted from the sinew of Stillwater Wood for how silently he tread, picking his way with care. Felíne likely weighed half what he did, yet her footfalls felt twice as heavy and landed thrice as loud.
“There is an actual house out here, right?” Felíne peered between the trees. “You were kidding about the tent?”
“Yes, there’s an actual house.”
Kal didn’t see the skepticism settle over her features.
Felíne glanced around as she followed him.
The forest looked the same in every direction.
Tangled vines wound up moss-covered trunks.
Thick, thorny brambles covered in tantalizing black berries hugged the invisible path he chose.
Felíne nearly stumbled when the toe of her boot snagged on a wild root.
Upon righting herself, she caught sight of a pair of large glowing eyes tracking her movement from the shadows.
“Kal,” she whispered, unsure if she should move. “Kal.”
He glanced back a short way ahead. “We’re nearly there. What’s wrong?”
“There’s something following us. Something big.”
Kal followed the direction of her gaze. “A grimalkin.”
“Here?” she squeaked. Grimalkins were dangerous black and gray jungle cats known to hunt in packs deep within the Faresian Jungle. Mender Alcuin had told her stories of entire campsites wiped out by groups of the voracious predators.
“Likely a straggler pushed out of the Faresian hunting grounds. We see them on occasion.”
Felíne glanced up, but Kal was already heading back along the path. She hurried after him, away from the hungry yellow eyes. “I’ve heard they’re aggressive.”
Kal nodded. “Very. Bold, too.”
“And you’re not worried about it?”
“No, I’m not worried.”
She peered back warily. “Well, I am.”
Kal turned over his shoulder, teeth flashing in a feral grin. Deep gold rolled over his irises in a gilded wave—not the warm hue of desire, but cold and predatory. “Don’t be. He’s not the most dangerous creature stalking this forest.”
A shudder descended her spine. Even so, Felíne stayed as close as she could get without stepping on Kal’s heels as they continued.
If the grimalkin followed, Felíne remained unaware. She didn’t catch sight of it again.
Several minutes later, Kal paused before a veritable wall of green.
The hedges here were so thick and grew so close together that she couldn’t see beyond them.
Kal, once again led by some mystical instinct, picked a spot in the verdant wall and pushed through.
The hedge parted for them, granting private access.
Once on the other side, Felíne straightened, brushing leaves from her clothing, and found herself momentarily stunned.
They’d entered a small, shaded clearing.
Afternoon light trickled through the leafy ceiling, spilling dollops of sunbeams along the grassy sweep of the forest floor.
Tiny indigo flowers scattered the expanse like fallen fragments of an evening sky.
And there, nestled between the ancient, lichen-covered trunks of two monstrous sacred fig trees, was a house.
Not just any house. Kal’s house.
The construction was simple, practical. The single-level cabin looked to Felíne like it’d been torn from the pages of a fairytale.
Deep walnut wood walls supported a gray slate roof, the tiles of which were interrupted by a wide, multi-colored stone chimney.
Thick wooden columns extended past the entrance, encased by a capacious porch wrapping the perimeter.
The unruly roots of the fig trees guarded the house, low-hanging branches framing a single, large window.
Kal offered a rough palm. “Shall we?”
“This is where you live?”
She felt him shrug next to her. “For now. It’s the closest thing I’ve had to a home since I was a boy.”
Felíne dragged her eyes from the enchanting cabin and slipped her hand into his. The calloused pad of Kal’s thumb dragged lazily over the softer skin of her knuckle. He’d extended the invitation to go inside but remained standing where he was. She swallowed and tilted her chin up, facing him.
Kal reached forward with his other hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered near her jaw, fingers whispering over her skin. Felíne’s heart began beating loudly behind her ribs. Kal’s head dipped, his mouth hovering just a breath away from hers.
Around them, the wood was still, serene.
He stayed there, breathing her in for a small eternity, then rested his forehead against hers. Felíne closed her eyes, emotion swelling. She pulled back slowly and placed a hand on his chest. He captured it in his own.
Felíne searched his gaze.
Kal’s expression was guarded, but there was a longing buried beneath the stoicism and self-control. “I’m not sure what this is,” he confessed.
Felíne’s heart was thundering, but it sank at his words. Because in them was a tentative hope that crushed her. She knew what she wanted and yet… “I’m not sure what it can be,” she whispered, chest cracking.
Kal’s brow lowered, but he nodded, as though to assure her he understood what she meant.
He didn’t understand at all. He couldn’t. For it wasn’t a protective older brother’s honor that was at stake. It was the fate and future of an entire people.
“Come on,” Kal said, any flicker of disappointment once again hidden behind his stone mask. “Let’s get you inside.”
Kal opened the cabin door, and Felíne was immediately ensconced by the smell and feel of his personal space.
Smoky notes of a long-cold fire lingered in the air.
A sitting area before the stone hearth greeted them just inside the door, with worn, comfortable-looking leather furniture facing the mantle.
Felíne fingered a blanket draped haphazardly over the back of a thickly padded chair.
The kitchen was small but functional. A gorgeous wooden counter spanned its length, the varied hues of woodgrain contrasting beautifully across its smooth surface. Sparse dishes were stacked neatly on an elevated open shelf against the back wall.
Kal turned down a short hallway that bisected the living room and kitchen, and Felíne followed him into a spacious bedroom.
A huge bed dominated the center of the space, heaped with the snowy fur pelt of some monstrous winter creature.
The bed was set before another wide window, which looked out onto the open meadow.
The grassy plain stretched some distance beyond the rear of the cabin.
Sunlight bathed the forest floor there, breaking through a rare expansive gap in the canopy.
Felíne spied a separate washroom. A pair of boots had been kicked against one wall. A leather vest, twin to the one Kal currently wore, and a crumpled pair of trousers were discarded in the far corner.
Felíne absorbed every detail with rapt fascination. She walked to the foot of the bed and trailed her fingers over the white fur throw. It felt far too intimate standing here in Kal’s private space, and yet she hungered for it. Desperate for that intimacy, knowing she couldn’t fully realize it.
Kal came to stand behind her, the warmth of him seeping into her back. He dragged the thick length of her hair over a shoulder, exposing one side of her neck. “Kitty,” he breathed against her skin. “If you don’t walk out of my bedroom in the next five seconds, you likely never will.”
She twisted and found herself nose to chest with him. “Why do you say that?”
“Because,” Kal replied, “I won’t be capable of letting you leave.”
Felíne’s breath came in quick bursts. “And here I thought the indomitable Kalevar Kaine possessed infinite self-control.”
“Not, apparently, when it comes to you.” He inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. “Two seconds, Kitty. Decide.”
She nearly succumbed right there, but Felíne pushed past whatever reckless madness threatened to consume her, stepped around Kal, and walked out of his bedroom.
Ten minutes later, Kal reemerged from the hallway, strapping a fresh set of daggers to the sheaths at his waist. Felíne stood from where she’d been waiting in the sitting room.
“We’re leaving?”
Kal slung a quiver of arrows across his back. “Just me.”
“Where are you going?”
There was a line of tension bracketing Kal’s mouth, permeating the air around him. “I’m going to get Rask.”
Felíne’s face fell. “So soon? We just got here.”
Kal’s eyes, now flat black, landed on her face. “He’s the reason you’re here, Kitty. Any delay at this point would be selfish.”
Besides, you made your decision. He didn’t say it out loud, but he didn’t have to. It was written in his expression. Kal was right. She had. And he was trying to honor it. She needed to let him.
“How long will you be?”
“A day. Two, at most. It depends how far the hunt has taken him. I’ll have Penn stop by to restock the kitchen before it gets dark. There’s fresh water from the tap by the sink. You’re free to make yourself comfortable. Use whatever you like. You’ll be safe here, just don’t wander into the wood.”
Felíne recalled the glowing eyes of the grimalkin and suppressed a shudder.
Kal moved toward the door, and Felíne trailed after him. For some odd reason, panic welled in her chest at the thought of him leaving her, and not because of who he was going to collect. “Kal,” she called.
He paused on the bottom step of the porch and turned back to her.
She traced his features. The hard line of his brow.
Those bottomless, mercurial eyes. His proud, angular jaw dusted with dark stubble.
The thick column of his neck, broad shoulders, and expansive chest. Why she was suddenly desperate to commit every detail to memory, she wasn’t sure. But it seemed imperative.
He was still waiting.
Felíne swallowed thickly. “Thank you. For everything.”
Kal dipped his chin, keen eyes never leaving her face. Then he turned away from her and was swallowed by the forest.