Page 27 of Fate Unchained

“I’m feeling better now. I should try again. We need to break free.”

He studied her in an odd way. “No. You’re not trying anything.”

“How are we going to get out of here, then?”

He glanced at the entrance to the cave. “I’ll figure something else out, and you’ll rest. We’ll be stuck here at least until morning with the snow, anyway. We have some time.”

“I’ve only seen two snowstorms before, and the snow only coated the road like,” she held her thumb and pointer finger apart about half an inch, “about this much. It melted right away.”

“That explains your utter lack of snow sense.” But his voice was soft, and one side of his mouth curled upward. “This is one of the nor’easter blizzards. You could have frozen to death for real.” The same angry line between his brows reappeared.

His expression didn’t change much, but she’d begun to notice small things which betrayed his true feelings. His eyes were obvious—they turned red when he was angry—but small twitches of his mouth, or the way he held his lovely ears, all meant something, and she was learning to understand the signs.

“I figured that out after the snow started really falling. I couldn’t see anything, and I lost where I was. But I still found you.” She smiled. “That’s twice now.”

A small rumble thrummed through the blankets. It wasn’t loud enough for her to hear the purr coming from his chest, only feel it. He shifted and put his arm around her. “I’m from the south, where I never have to see or think about snow. I hate this shi—” He rubbed his mouth. “I hate winter.”

“My aunt always said to be as salty as I want in my head but to keep my tongue tamed.”

Kyril made an odd kind of sound. “My tongue is not tame.” His voice was huskier.

She leaned against him, her cheek nestling on his chest. Yawning, she said, “Mine either. What is it like in the south?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. “My pack brother Juri would describe it much better than I can. He’s a bard. One of the true storytellers. I’m not one for talking.”

“You’ve spoken to me constantly since we met. I mean, it’s been mostly grumping, but still.”

“Hm.” He ran his hand up and down her arm in a soothing way. While a storm raged outside, the warmth of the fire licked across her face, and the cocoon of the blankets kept her cozy. She might be in a cave, but with Kyril holding her, she felt safer than she had in a long time.

She sighed and nestled closer, her eyelids drifting closed. “I’ve never seen the south. Please tell me about it.”

He took a long moment before saying, “My den is in the west, where the dunes are larger and wilder. Instead of looking like the sand was swept with a broom, they look like they were cut with a knife.” For someone who claimed he wasn’t much of a talker, she could picture it perfectly. It was better than a book.

“It’s outside of the proper desert, so we get rain in the spring, and there are pockets of jungle. Closer to the ocean is where the rainforests with the richest wildlife are, and good hunting, but near my small mountain is a nice, lush valley. I, uh, have a pair of sloths I haven’t eaten that like to hang out near my doorway. We have an agreement.”

Her eyelids flew open. “Like us? How do you have an agreement with a sloth?”

He shrugged. “A jaguar was bothering one of them. Normally predators and I get along, and the other animals steer clear of me, but when I walked by, the sloth clung onto my leg, and he wouldn’t let go. So, I ran the jaguar off, and ever since I’ve kept the sloth’s area safe. I named him Cling. This year he invited a mate to live with him, Squeak. They both cry out loudly to give me a warning if someone comes near my den. So that’s our agreement. I keep them safe, and they raise a bloody ruckus if they see something around they don’t like.” He settled her closer against his chest. “And there are fewer birds around because sloths eat bird eggs. I hate birds.”

“I’d like to see a sloth.” Her eyes closed again. “What else is near your den?”

As Kyril described the trees and how the sand smelled like spices, his voice deepened like warm honey. It was as if he were caressing her with his words, and she drifted closer and closer to sleep. Days of not sleeping in the carriage and barely sleeping last night on the hard floor crashed in on her hard. Especially since she was so warm. And being held.

“Go to sleep, lalee,” Kyril whispered. Or maybe he’d said Lilah, and she’d misheard. “When you wake up, we’re going to get out of here.”

11

Kyril glanced down at Lilah, checking on her yet again, a fierce yet unfamiliar surge punching through him. She lay on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek and sleeping soundly as if she needed the rest. She’d slept for many hours as the storm raged from dawn into the afternoon, and he’d stood nearby the entire time, making sure she was comfortable. And safe.

His entire life was about keeping Ulterra safe, it was his creed, yet he’d never felt this kind of protectiveness before. Right now, if anyone dared come into the cave, he’d kill them without thinking about it, and he’d do it silently, so she didn’t wake.

He rubbed the mark on his chest. It had to be the rune working on their bond, trying to lure him into choosing her by the end of the month.

He dragged his gaze away, still touching the rune. Last month when Juri appeared in human form, Hans explained how the rune was tied to their humanity, and it returned their ability to switch to human form. So, if Kyril had a rune, he could take human form now, too.

No one knew the vulk had that ability, so if he wanted to track down necromancers and the Dark Cabal in Coromesto, he could take human form, and no one would suspect him.

He clenched his teeth. Damn. What did he know about acting human? He rubbed a hand down his chest. He’d need to wear clothes. And shoes. A muscle ticked in his jaw. No better time to try it out than now, while Lilah was asleep.

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