Chapter 46 #2
Felíne’s thoughts tangled. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears, the beat erratic and too fast. Her lungs screamed for air, but it was gone.
Then, suddenly, so was Skott. His pleas ceased.
She heard a thud as something heavy hit the ground, then only the whoosh of rain and wind.
When Felíne reopened her eyes, Kal was crouched before her, blocking her view.
Not a trembling hand, but a steady one. Not a set of wild, panicked eyes, but two luminous gold irises set into a handsome, beastly face creased with concern.
Felíne did not look for Skott’s body. She held onto that gilded gaze like it was a lifeboat, the only thing keeping her head above turbulent seas.
She tried to take a breath. Only partly succeeded.
Kal swooped her into his arms, claws gentle, inky fur wet but warm. Then he was running. Fleeing the scene of her nightmare on swift, padded feet.
“G-rim,” she rasped, remembering the wolf’s yelp of pain. Was he okay? She hadn’t been able to check on him. What if—
“A flesh wound. He can wait,” Kal rumbled, his chest vibrating under her cheek. “You can’t.”
Thunder cracked once more overhead, the storm reaching a crescendo. Felíne closed her eyes against the shadows rushing past them and buried her face in Kal’s silky fur. He knew where he was going. His second form likely afforded him perfect vision, even in complete darkness.
Felíne lost track of the passing seconds as she focused all her attention on keeping her seizing lungs inflated. Then Kal burst through the front door of his cabin.
“I’m going to set you down,” he said, then placed her gently onto the couch.
Felíne struggled to hold onto consciousness.
Her body was exhausted from fighting her panic.
She tried to work through the mental exercises Mender Alcuin had taught her, but she couldn’t focus.
Her chest was too tight, her airway too narrow.
Her muscles began to lock, despite her best efforts to relax.
Kal stepped quickly into the front foyer and shook himself, dispelling droplets of water. Then he stalked to the hearth. Moments later, a fire roared in its mouth, blessed heat suffusing the room.
He shoved the low table out of the way with a careless push and sank to his massive haunches before her. “What do I do? What do you need?”
Tears leaked out of the corners of Felíne’s eyes. Gods, this was the worst attack she’d had in years. She unlocked her chattering jaw. “S-s-sugar.”
Kal disappeared. She heard cabinets being thrown open, water being poured, and dishes clanking in the kitchen. Then he was back, holding a glass to her lips.
Felíne swallowed with some difficulty, but the sugary liquid coated her tongue and seeped into her bloodstream like a panacea. She tried to unclench her fists, but her muscles were still rigid. She shivered again.
Kal set the glass aside and gripped the hem of her tunic in his claws.
He dipped his head to her eye level. “You’re safe.
You can trust me,” he said. She jerked her chin in a nod of acquiescence.
Kal slid one wicked claw up the seam of her shirt, shredding the sopping material around her painful, tightened limbs.
Her boots and pants were next, though he managed to preserve the leather and laces.
A blanket was draped over Felíne’s shoulders, covering her undergarments and exposed skin with pillowy fabric. Kal dragged the massive fur off his bed and tossed it onto the floor before the hearth.
Then, he lifted Felíne from the couch with exceeding tenderness, set her onto the pelt near the cozy fireplace, and coiled himself around her.
Minutes dragged by. Kal didn’t speak, and Felíne couldn’t.
They sat in silence, the only sounds being the crackling flames, the passing storm, Kal’s steady heartbeat, and his slow, rhythmic breathing.
Now and then, he’d reach behind them and lift the glass of sugar water to Felíne’s lips.
Kal’s furry tail rested over her folded legs, its weight a soothing comfort.
Slowly, so slowly, her fingers began to unclench. Her muscles loosened. Her chest expanded a touch more fully with each passing minute. The panic receded, bit by bit, the horrors of the night fading in intensity. Felíne’s throat relaxed until finally, blessedly, she drew a full, cleansing breath.
At some point, Felíne had fallen asleep nuzzled into Kal’s silken fur. She woke with the smoky earthen smell of his second form filling her nostrils, and the soft tickle of his pelt pressed against her cheek, strands woven through her fingers. His cavernous chest rumbled. Not a growl, but…
“Are you purring?”
Kal blinked down at her as though just realizing she’d woken. The rumbling stopped.
She could have laughed. “And you gave me the nickname ‘Kitty?’”
“How am I not surprised that the first words out of your mouth are an insult?”
Felíne chewed her lip. “It wasn’t an insult. I didn’t know your second form purred like a kitten.”
Kal’s golden gaze rested heavy on her. “Mountain lions purr.”
Felíne dragged her fingers through his onyx fur. “You look nothing like a mountain lion.”
A fine shudder worked its way down Kal’s massive, predatory frame, his hair standing briefly on end. His pupils dilated, their deep centers swallowing some of the gilded border.
“Grim,” she said suddenly. “He’s hurt—”
“The wolf is fine,” Kal insisted. “He’s outside. It was barely a scratch.”
She relaxed again, her worry dissipating.
“I’m sorry if my actions frightened you,” he said.
“It wasn’t you.” Felíne still saw the assailant as she turned in the forest, relived the moment her irritation with Kal evaporated. “I’m just thankful you’re okay.”
He blew air through wide nostrils. “Lucien will answer for this. The Carrow brothers’ blood is on his hands. He should have come himself.”
The Carrow brothers. Robb and Skott. Kal had eliminated the threat with brutal efficiency, but she could tell by the way he spoke that he knew them. It was a shame they’d become a threat in the first place.
Felíne saw Skott’s stricken face, his outstretched hand, and suppressed a shiver. “I’ve never seen you in second form for so long,” she said, changing the subject.
“It’s not my preferred form,” Kal replied with a shrug. “I’m more comfortable with a set of blades and a crossbow in first, but it has its uses.”
“Like total annihilation?”
Kal huffed. “Like an overamplified metabolism.” When Felíne frowned in confusion, Kal continued. “Robb had some kind of noxious liquid in the rag he pressed to my face.”
The image of Kal fumbling for a weapon resurfaced. The cloth must have been saturated with some kind of sedative.
“If I hadn’t shifted, I would have blacked out. I couldn’t let Skott take you.”
Her mind went right back to their struggle in the forest: the thunder booming overhead, the lightning casting garish shadows, the rain descending like her terror. “You killed him,” she whispered.
“Of course I killed him,” Kal replied. “He put his hands on you.”
“And that warrants a death sentence?”
One granite word. “Yes.”
She swallowed, settling her cheek back against his chest. “So your second form allows you to process poison?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said, shifting his weight to accommodate her position. “It strengthens every physiological system. For my second form to suffer the same effects of whatever sedative he used on my first form, he would have needed roughly five times the dose he had.”
“And you’re not…out of control?” Felíne remembered what Kal told her on their way to Stillwater Wood: that shurii who were allowed to utilize their second forms growing up were capable of controlling their heightened instincts.
But she also remembered Kal brutalizing the grimalkin in the arena, racing back to his cabin in the woods, and narrowly restraining himself from wringing her neck.
Kal tilted his head as he assessed her, furry ears twitching. “No, Kitty,” he assured, seeming to sense the direction of her thoughts. “If you’re referencing the time after the arena, I was…angry. More than angry.”
Felíne swallowed.
“But I would never hurt you,” he said, his deep voice soft. “For all the power in this form, all the strength in my body, you have nothing to fear from me.”
She believed him.
Another thought popped into her head, and she peeked over the edge of her blanket. “You’re not wearing pants.” Skott had been clothed from the waist down after shifting. But Kal had come out of the darkness like some hellish spawn composed of smoke and shadows.
Kal’s golden eyes glittered with what could only be amusement. “Should I be worried?”
“For what?”
“My virtue?”
Felíne opened her mouth to reply. Closed it. Tugged her blanket tighter around her shoulders.
Kal’s whole body reverberated with a deep rolling laugh.
He uncoiled himself from around her, and Felíne immediately missed his velvety warmth.
“I hadn’t expected to shift,” he explained.
“Those clothes weren’t made to accommodate the transformation.
When we got home?” He shrugged. “Other things seemed more important at the time.” Without waiting for a reply, Kal turned and padded toward his bedroom door, tail swishing along the floorboards.
Felíne pushed to her feet, stretching stiff muscles. She watched him disappear down the hall and, without giving herself a chance to reconsider, followed quietly after him.