Page 84 of Dark Rebel's Reckoning

When she cleared the hallway, the sight that greeted her was worse than anything she could have imagined, and she stopped short, her body freezing mid-step.

Max and Fenella were locked in an embrace, with Fenella's arms wrapped around Max's neck and her face pressed against his chest.

Something sharp and painful lanced through Kyra's chest at the sight, her earlier suspicions confirmed in vivid detail.

She should turn away and retreat down the hallway before they noticed her standing there like some pathetic voyeur, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from what was a horror show to her.

Then something grabbed her attention.

Max was awkwardly patting Fenella's back in a manner that didn't suggest anything even remotely passionate. He looked pleased, happy even, but his eyes didn't glow the way they had done when they'd kissed. They weren't hooded with desire either.

That didn't look like a lovers' embrace.

Kyra had confronted armed patrols, infiltrated military installations, and negotiated with tyrants who thirsted for her blood, so she could face whatever this was. She hadn't survived two decades as a resistance fighter by evading uncomfortable situations.

"What happened?" she asked, walking up to them, her voice steady and filled with just the right measure of concern.

Fenella had already stepped away from Max, and as she whirled around, she looked more animated than Kyra had ever seen her, her usual sardonic mask replaced by excitement.

"Max called Din," Fenella said. "Din is booking a flight to California to come see me."

"That's nice." Kyra glanced between Fenella and Max, reassessing the scene she'd witnessed. "But I thought you didn't want to see him. You gave me the impression you weren't interested in Din, and that you'd rather check out other guys in the immortal community."

Fenella shrugged. "I know I talked shit about Din earlier, and he deserved it. But the guy is flying halfway around the world to see me. That has to count for something, right?" She struck a coquettish pose. "It makes me feel special. No one has ever invested that much effort into seeking me out and wanting to be with me before." Her expression turned reflective. "And the fact that he was mad at Max for half a century over supposedly stealing me? That's significant too. Not many men would hold a grudge that long over a woman they'd never even dated."

Kyra was relieved that her suspicions about Max and Fenella were proven wrong, and that all those secret looks were about Max calling Din for her.

On the other hand, though, she didn't like what she'd learned about Din so far. A guy who'd nursed resentment for decades and blamed others rather than take action himself was not the sort of man Kyra would have chosen for herself or anyone she cared about.

"I hope you won't be disappointed," she said, and immediately regretted the words.

Fenella was a grown woman, and she didn't need Kyra to question her judgment or offer unsolicited advice.

Fenella waved a dismissive hand. "I'm going in with low expectations. The guy supposedly fell in love with me when I was just a bartender in a village pub, and then spent fifty years being angry at Max for getting to me first. I'm curious to see what he's like now." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Besides, if he turns out to be a dud, there are plenty of other immortal males around, right? It's not like I'm committing to anything by agreeing to see him."

Despite herself, Kyra smiled. It was impossible not to like Fenella despite her snarky attitude and excessive use of profanities. She was beginning to understand why Max had a soft spot for the woman.

As long as it wasn't romantic, Kyra didn't mind. Well, she would need to work hard on accepting their friendship and not get jealous, but she'd overcome bigger challenges before.

"Dinner is on its way!" Jasmine called. "We should move to the dining room so there is space for everyone. I ordered from the Golden Dragon—one of my absolute favorites. You are in for a delightful feast." She glanced around the room. "Are the girls still trying on their new clothes?"

Kyra nodded. "I'll go let them know about dinner."

"I can do it," Fenella offered, already walking toward the hallway. "I want to see what they got anyway."

Max reached for Kyra's hand, his fingers warm as they closed around hers. "Did the shopper do okay with your things?" he asked. "Everything fit alright?"

The simple touch sent a current of awareness up Kyra's arm, and she was struck again by how physically drawn to him she was—something that was still new and exciting to her.

"Everything is incredible," she said, squeezing his hand. "Even the tactical pants and jacket are made from the finest fabrics—soft and comfortable, but durable too. They feel like a caress against my skin." The phrase sounded oddly intimate once it left her mouth, but Max's pleased expression encouraged her to continue. "And the boots! Such soft leather, yet so sturdy. They fit like they were made for me. Even the socks are amazing—cashmere! I've never had socks that felt so incredible."

Max's smile broadened at her enthusiasm. "I'm glad. I like you to have nice things. You deserve it."

The warmth in his gaze made her heart flutter.

This gorgeous, super-confident immortal, who could probably have his pick of women, looked at her like she was something precious, which was difficult to reconcile with what she'd seen in the mirror a few minutes ago.

She was no beauty, not in the conventional sense, and yet here he was holding her hand, looking at her with an intensity that turned her knees to jelly.

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