Page 79 of Dark Rebel's Reckoning

Putting the brush aside, she raked her fingers through her hair, flipping it to one side the way she preferred, and headed toward the living room.

She heard Max and Fenella talking before she saw them, and even from more than twenty feet away she could detect something in Max's tone that sent a pang through her chest.

Their conversation sounded intimate, and her gut clenched when she saw them standing close together and looking into each other's eyes with some kind of shared understanding.

It wasn't just the intimacy of their conversation that made them look like a unit. More tellingly, they both seemed slightly unsettled, as if they'd shared an intense experience.

Max glanced up, catching her eye, and something in his expression shifted. Was it guilt? Regret?

"There you are," he said, his tone sounding deliberately casual. "I wondered where you'd gone."

Had he?

"I was in the washroom." She forced a smile and turned to Fenella. "How did it go?"

"I'm not pregnant, and pending the results of the blood tests, I'm a perfectly healthy immortal."

Kyra forced down the uncomfortable feeling squirming in her stomach.

What was wrong with her?

She had no claim on Max. They had shared a few kisses, nothing more.

It couldn't compare to the history he had with Fenella. The two had been lovers, even if it had been a brief affair, and as much as Kyra hated to admit it, Fenella's personality was much more compatible with Max's than hers.

They were both irreverent and snarky, and they didn't take anything too seriously, or at least pretended not to.

"That's good," she said, her voice sounding strained even to her ears.

The rational part of her brain tried to tell her that she was being ridiculous. Max was a free agent. Fenella was attractive, and they had a past. If they wanted to rekindle something, she had no right to interfere.

It wasn't her place to feel possessive over him.

Her pendant suddenly hummed against her skin, warming rapidly until it became uncomfortably hot. The sensation was so intense that she had to pull it out from beneath her shirt, letting it rest on top of the fabric where it couldn't burn her.

Mind your own business, she thought irritably toward the pendant. The amber stone seemed to pulse once in response, as if offended by her dismissal, before settling down.

She was losing her mind. That was the only explanation.

"Everything okay?" Max asked.

"Fine," Kyra said quickly. "It just gets warm sometimes."

He nodded and then checked his watch. "If you'll excuse me, I have something I need to attend to. I'm going to step out onto the terrace for a bit."

A look passed between him and Fenella, and she gave him a slight nod.

What the hell was that? Were they planning to meet outside to rekindle their romance?

As Max walked toward the sliding glass doors, Fenella stepped closer to Kyra. "Can I have a word with you for a moment?" she asked, her voice low enough that only Kyra could hear.

"Of course," she said.

Fenella led her toward the kitchen, glancing at the girls as if to check whether they were within earshot. "Bridget thinks we all need to talk to a therapist about what happened to us."

The statement was so unexpected that Kyra momentarily forgot how upset she was. "A therapist?"

"A psychologist. You know, lie on a couch, answer questions that start with 'how do you feel about that?'" She mimicked a pretentious accent for the last part.

---