Page 33 of Sheltered in the Storm

CHAPTER 11

CALLA

When Vos had started tellinghis story, I’d prepared myself to hear about a mission during his service to the Silent Guard, or something that had taken place since he finished his twenty years of service.

I’d seen a lot of suffering in my life, and experienced more than my fair share, but nothing at all could have prepared me for this kind of hurt. The pain in Vos’s eyes and the way his voice tightened with grief gutted me. He was so powerful, so deadly, and so fierce, but he’d yearned for a mother.

He didn’t want to cause me anguish of any kind—I knew that as surely as I knew I didn’t want to hurt him. He wanted me to know my hurts and memories would be safe with him. What better way to demonstrate that than sharing what must be one of his deepest, most carefully guarded secrets?

Even so, part of me wanted to pull away, close my eyes, and try to go back to sleep. Just because Vos had revealed something intensely private about himself didn’t mean I had to do thesame. And he wouldn’t push. I could stay safely behind my walls if I wanted.

I’d asked him for a second opportunity to see where this might lead, though. He’d taken a chance by accepting, and then an even bigger one by telling me a story so painful that even now his hand trembled in mine. He had to be as full of fear as me, though he might be better at hiding it. I hadn’t promised to stay. He was gambling that I might. It was an enormous risk—more so than I could probably comprehend.

And deep down I knew walls offered protection, but they could be a prison too.

Vos waited quietly while I thought, his chest rising and falling and hearts beating with that soothing rhythm I’d missed so much.

I wanted to wipe the tears off my face, but I didn’t want to let go of his hand. He surprised me by using his free hand and the bedsheet to gently dab the wetness from my cheeks without hurting me by touching my bruises or cuts. That simple and thoughtful kindness meant more to me than I could have explained.

My stomach growled embarrassingly loudly.

“You are hungry,” Vos said, nuzzling my hair. “I am glad your appetite is improving. It is well past midday. Should I prepare a meal?”

“If you don’t mind. I wish I could help with the cooking.” I hesitated. “Well, I’ve never really cooked, but I could helpyoucook. Hand you things.”

He chuckled. “When you can stand unaided, I would be happy to teach you. In the meantime, I enjoy cooking and I must eat as well. It is not any extra work to cook for two.” He started to rise.

“Can you take me to the sofa?” I asked. “I’d love to sit by the fire, and I like to watch you cook.”

Vos blinked. “You like to watch me cook?”

My cheeks heated. “Yes.”

“Then it is my privilege to take you to the sofa.” He kissed my forehead and rose from the bed. Carefully, he adjusted my blankets and scooped me up with his tentacles.

As he straightened and I got close enough, I raised my head and kissed him. Which of us was more startled, I wasn’t sure.

The kiss was quick, soft, and very sweet. His lips were hot and tasted a bit like the sea. He returned the kiss as gently as he held me.

I couldn’t hold my head up very long before pain lanced through my neck. When my head fell back to rest on his tentacle, Vos smiled down at me.

“You surprised an assassin,” he murmured. “Quite a feat, my Calla.” His smile vanished, and his expression turned grave. “Calla, I apologize. I misspoke.”

“It’s all right. I don’t mind.” I touched his face. “Soup and toasted bread?”

“Whatever you would like.” He carried me to the front room and arranged me so I lay in pillows on the sofa. “Is this comfortable?”

“Yes.” I grimaced and settled in. “Not as comfortable as your tentacles, but comfortable enough.”

He kissed the top of my head, turned up the fire in the fireplace, and hurried to the kitchen.

Toasty warm in my blankets, I basked in the heat from the fire as he selected frozen kaory meat and homegrown vegetables from the food storage unit. I hadn’t said so, but I enjoyed watching his tentacles roam about the kitchen, picking up utensils and doing small tasks like straightening things as he prepped the food with his human hands. He hummed as he cooked—simple melodies that had become familiar though I didn’t know them. And his tentacles swayed in rhythm.

The truth was, I simply enjoyed watching Vos do anything at all. He was beautiful. His skin shimmered and glowed and his tentacles were a wonder. How would he react if I confessed that to him? Would he laugh? Tease me? Remind me he enjoyed watching over me too?

Everything about this quiet home life was utterly new to me. From the incessant rain to the sounds and smells of cooking to the heavy purple fruit growing on the tree beside the sofa, I might as well have fallen through a rift in space and ended up in a different universe altogether from the one I’d inhabited. Did Vos feel the same?

Through the window, I spotted Poe in the garden contentedly nibbling on a leafy plant as she searched the grass for tiny, slow-moving creatures with shells Vos calledenni.

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