Page 41 of Dark Rebel's Reckoning

Once the door closed behind Fenella, the awkward silence returned. A new type of tension filled the space—anticipation mingled with uncertainty.

Kyra searched for something to say, some bit of small talk to fill the silence, but she'd never been good at coming up with trivial things to talk about, and speaking of the upcoming interrogation would kill the mood.

"So," Max said after several moments, leaning forward. "Tell me how you rose into the ranks of the Kurdish resistance forces. How did you become a leader? "

Kyra considered the question, debating whether to respond or simply cut to the heart of what was happening between them. She didn't have much time—Ell-rom might return from his shower at any moment.

"I don't think you're really interested in the Kurdish resistance," she said, deciding to be true to herself and shoot straight.

Max's lips curved into a half-smile. "I'm mildly interested in the resistance but very interested in you."

"Why?"

She knew she was a good-looking woman, but a man like Max must have had many who were more beautiful and not as damaged. Then again, there was a shortage of available immortal mates, so it might be less about who she was than what she was.

Instead of answering directly, Max tilted his head. "Do you feel it? The connection between us?"

The pendant seemed to warm against her skin, almost as if responding to his words, and Kyra let out a slow breath. "Yes,"she admitted. "And it mystifies me because I have never felt anything like it—at least not that I can remember." She hesitated before adding, "I don't remember ever inviting a man to my bed."

The thought flickered through her mind that the fake doctor hadn't waited for an invitation, but he didn't count. She pushed the ugly memory aside, refusing to let it taint this moment.

Max's expression softened, and he rose from the armchair and came to sit next to her on the couch, but not so close that they were touching. He'd left a couple of inches between them.

When he extended his hand, palm up, the invitation was clear but undemanding.

Kyra placed her hand in his, and a jolt of awareness shot up her arm at the simple contact. It was as if a circuit had been completed, electricity flowing between them.

"Did you feel that?" she asked, her voice hushed with wonder.

"Yes." His fingers curled around hers.

The confirmation was both reassuring and bewildering. This wasn't just her imagination or some desperate need for connection. Something real was happening between them.

"Is it because we're both immortal?"

Max's thumb traced small circles on the back of her hand, each feather-light touch sending sparks through her nervous system. "It's the will of the Fates."

There it was again. "What do you mean by that? Is it some kind of myth about matchmaking Fates?"

26

MAX

Where to even begin?

Max rubbed the back of his neck. "The clan doesn't have any official belief system, but we loosely believe in the three Fates guiding people's destinies. One of the major tenets of that belief is that the Fates reward the most worthy of us with a truelove mate. Matching two people who are so perfect for each other that they immediately feel a strong pull, and the bond they form is so powerful it binds them for life."

Kyra smiled. "That sounds lovely, but it doesn't work like that in reality."

Max hoped that she would find out that, for a few lucky immortals, it was precisely how it worked.

"I used to think that it was a myth, something our mothers told us to encourage us to be good people so one day the Fates would reward us with the most precious gift any immortal can hope for. But now I know it to be true. I've seen the Fates make the mostunlikely pairs, people who meet under the most extraordinary circumstances and form an unbreakable bond. Syssi and Kian have that. Jasmine and Ell-rom have it. Mey and Yamanu. There are many more examples in the clan. And the thing is that it all started with Amanda finding Syssi about five years ago and getting her to meet Kian."

Kyra regarded him with a doubtful expression on her face, and he couldn't blame her. If someone had told him this story five years ago, he would have looked at them with the same half-smile that bordered on pity because he would have thought them naive romantics.

"What makes a person worthy?" Kyra asked.

Max hadn't expected that question. Frankly, he'd expected the brush-off.

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