Page 108 of Shadows of Winter

Puzzled, Kaylina looked at him. It took her a long moment to realize he had to be talking about the curse, about how he sometimes failed to maintain his equanimity and keep the beast from taking over. That hardly seemed like a fault though, since it was something he couldn’t fully control. He was human, and humans weren’t perfect. She understood that and could forgive others their flaws more than she could herself.

“You almost lost it in the castle, didn’t you?” Kaylina whispered, studying his face though his mask was in place again. At first, she’d found it infuriating. Now she understood why he so carefully kept it up.

“Yes. And if I had, I might have killed you and Targon as well as shredding that plant.”

The blunt words were chilling, even though that was exactly what she’d worried about. But she didn’t want him to think she’d been concerned at the time—or was uncomfortable being beside him now—so she strove for a light tone when she said, “Who would have guessed that a wayward plant could infuriate you more than a horde of men trying to kill you?”

His response was serious. “People, animals, or plants trying to kill me—that last being admittedly rare—don’t typically present a problem. I have a lot of practice keeping my calm in battle. And I can deal with the irritations of human beings in general.” An eyebrow twitch was his only indication that he referred to some of their conversations. “I’ve had practice at that too. But no amount of practice prepares you for the overwhelming emotions that arise when someone you care about is in danger.”

“Ah. I didn’t realize you felt that strongly about Captain Targon. He’s… kind of a dick.”

Vlerion snorted. “I’ve known him a long time.”

“You’re not that old are you?” She’d thought they were similar in age, that he might have two or three years on her but not much more. “How long have you been a ranger?”

“Six years, but my brother was one before me, and I knew Targon before he became captain. They were friends, and he’s especially watched out for me since my brother… passed.”

Was killed, her mind corrected. “Did Targon have anything to do with that?”

His mother had said rangers had taken his brother down.

“Not directly, but he felt responsible. Once he was made captain, Vlarek told him our family secret. Vlarek felt the captain of the rangers needed to know.”

“I guess that makes sense. How many people know?” Kaylina wondered how rare of company she now kept.

“The king and some of his aides and confidants. Probably the prince, though I’m not certain. We haven’t spent much time together, but it’s a matter of kingdom security since, when we change…” Vlerion spread his palm.

People died. Right.

“Among the rangers, not many,” he continued. “Among the aristocracy, even fewer. Among the proletariat, I hope none, but, as I told you, I worry about the Virts discovering the secret and using it against my family. Maybe even to rally their own people. Generations of Havartafts have killed innocents when the beast has taken over, murdered them essentially.” He winced. “It’s unacceptable. We should have been put to death long ago. All of us. The curse could be ended by destroying every male Havartaft.”

Kaylina shook her head, horrified by the idea that Vlerion might be killed because of something he had no power to stop, something he was only affected by because a distant ancestor had wanted to feed his people during a famine.

“It’s not your fault.” She caught herself lifting a hand to touch his jaw before remembering his mother’s words, that she could be a danger to him as surely as an attack in battle. “And it’s not fair.”

“A gripe I’ve often made,” he said. “Especially after I lost my brother. I struggled to control my emotions then and spent a lot of time as the beast. The memories of what I do in that state are always vague and blurry, but I don’t forget completely. It’s hard to forget when you wake in your human form the next day with someone’s blood dried on your bare chest. The horrors of what I did are what forced me to get myself together, to lock away my feelings about my brother’s end. I cried at the funeral pyre but not after that, though my mother railed at me for being distant. Even though she understood, she struggled to accept it. Then, at least. Now she knows and does her best to protect me.”

Kaylina almost drew her hand back, but she didn’t want him to feel it was a rejection, that she blamed him for the curse.

“It’s not your fault,” she murmured again. “It’s not self-sabotage.”

She brushed her fingers along his jaw, feeling the late-day beard stubble, and longed to let her hand drift higher. To stroke his face, to push her fingers through his short hair, to rub his warm scalp…

Vlerion closed his eyes and lowered his head toward her, as if offering it for a rub. She ran her fingers over his scarred scalp, wanting to soothe him, to promise she wouldn’t judge him. Maybe she should have, if innocent people had died to his deadly claws, but she couldn’t find it within herself to do so. He’d saved her with those claws.

He exhaled slowly, as if relaxing under her ministrations, but there was a hint of a rumble to his breath, almost a growl. She flashed back to his neck rub in the catacombs and of sitting in front of him on the taybarri with his hard body behind hers. Heat crept into her. Desire.

By all the moon gods, she wanted to scoot closer and kiss him. To have him touch her. But they couldn’t risk doing anything. He probably didn’t even have feelings for her.

Or did he?

Kaylina knew that she irritated and exasperated him, but he was sitting here with her now, far closer than he needed to be while they waited for the wagon. That was evidence of caring, wasn’t it?

“You changed in the catacombs.” She spoke the words as a realization. “I’d assumed because fighting those men made you lose control, but you’ve since said…” She raised her eyebrows.

Vlerion lifted his eyes to meet hers, his gaze steamy through his lashes, steamy and intense.

A longing to kiss him rose up from her core, spreading heat throughout her body, but that glint had entered Vlerion’s eyes, the one she now recognized as danger. Maybe she had all along.

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