Page 35 of The Falconer

‘Fix this,’ I snap at him. ‘Or I shall never forgive you.’

‘Leave,’ he tells my companions without averting his gaze from mine. ‘Now.’

The burst of power that comes from him – usually so tempting and magnetic – cramps my stomach, a nauseating churn that doubles me over. It’s a taste so heavy that I almost heave from it.

Without hesitation or a word of farewell, Dona and Catherine turn and stroll across the grass, in the direction of Princes Street. Their movements are calm, as if nothing is amiss. They wander through the trees and out of sight.

‘What did you do to them?’

‘I compelled them to return home,’ he says. ‘They won’t remember me.’

‘Is Catherine—’

‘She’s fine. The effects of seeing me will wear off.’

I throw my parasol onto the ground and scowl at him. It takes all my effort not to strike him. ‘What were you thinking, coming here?’

Kiaran tilts his face to the sky. The final remnants of sunshine lights his skin with a golden glow both strange and lovely. ‘Such magnificent weather, is it not?’

Stop staring at him, you ninny. I tear my gaze away. ‘How dare you do this? We had an agreement.’

He pushes away from the tree and circles me, as if cornering his prey. His feet are silent on the grass. ‘I don’t recall ever speaking a vow.’

‘It was understood.’

‘I don’t deal in implied negotiations.’ Kiaran glances behind me. ‘Am I to understand you don’t want us to be seen together?’

I snort. ‘Of course not. Especially now that you’ve deprived me of my chaperone.’

Kiaran clicks his tongue and gestures behind me. ‘So you should be concerned aboutthem, then.’

I whirl. A couple strolls in our direction, a chaperone not far behind. They have yet to see me, but a lady of my reputation and social standing should not be alone in a park – and being spotted alone with a man would surely make things worse.

With a gasp, I tear off a glove and grab Kiaran’s bare hand. ‘Hide us,’ I whisper.

‘I’ll consider it. Shall we bargain?’

I’m tempted to pick up my parasol and beat him with it. ‘You’ve ruined my afternoon. At least do me this service.’

Kiaran smirks and laces his fingers through mine. I’m amazed at how smooth they are, how warm. ‘There now.’ His words are low, barely audible. ‘You’re hidden.’

His eyes are depthless, as though they hold an endless expanse of space, deep and dark. Except for the gold flecks, cinders burning within the infinite abyss. Kiaran’s age is reflected there. He has seen centuries come and go, seen countless people live and die, the birth and destruction of whole civilisations. He is a living relic.

The couple pass by us, laughing and chattering. I’m struck with sudden shame that Kiaran has to hide me from my peers, and that I even need him to. When did I come to care so much for his opinion of me? I want so badly for him to see me as the huntress and not the lady –neverthe lady. The nights we hunt are the only times I’ve ever felt on equal terms with a man – even if he isn’t one.

I should be angry at him. I should scold him again for coming to me like this, for forcing me to reveal the side of me I didn’t want him to know about. Instead, I blush with embarrassment, and I can’t even begin to comprehend why.

Unable to meet his eyes any more, I look away. ‘I never wanted you to see me like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘Me in this blasted dress. I’m the highborn daughter of a marquess. I must look like I’ve never touched a weapon in my life.’ I shouldn’t have told him this. Now I’ll appear weaker than ever.

I am the wild creature he saw fight, kill and survive only last night. Dresses conceal my brokenness. They cloak the savage creature that lives inside me and thrives on anger. I am a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

His response surprises me. ‘Trifling matters, Kam. It changes nothing. Do you think these clothes hinder my ability to use a blade? They’re no impediment.’

I almost laugh. ‘Try fighting in a corset and petticoats.’

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