Page 30 of Bad Bunny
I jolt at the word. This is the first time he’s spoken of his uncle without blood and betrayal tangled in the sentence.
“Uncle Rion said steel never hesitates,” Sorren continues. “Steel never doubts. Steel never begs to be loved. He trained me. Made me stronger.”
A quiet realization settles over me with those words. Sorren didn’t justknowhis uncle. He grew up with him. Worked beside him. Looked up to him. Trusted him.
This betrayal isn’t only political. It’s personal.
My heart aches at that truth. At just how much Sorren has lost.
A stoplight turns green as I slowly accelerate.
“But my father…” His voice softens. “My father said a ruler must be more than a weapon.” His eyes meet mine. “He said the kingdom needs softness more than steel. Compassion before judgment.”
“What do you think?” I ask, carefully.
Sorren sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe it takes both. When I was younger, I wanted my uncle to be right.”
He pauses, looks down at his hands, which are folded neatly in his lap.
“But as I grew…I found myself hoping it was my father who was wiser.”
Quiet settles between us again, not quite as sharp or echoing this time. Just thoughtful.
“Why do you teach?” Sorren asks abruptly, like he wants to change the subject.
“What?”
“You work with children. They called you teacher. The ones who petted me and squealed when I sniffed them,” he says. “Why?”
I glance over, surprised to find him watching me instead of the road.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I like them.”
“You like small humans?”
I laugh, my eyes bouncing between him and the road. “That sounds weird when you say it like that.”
“It is what they are,” he replies in a matter-of-fact way.
I pause, thinking about his question. “I like helping them,” I try again. “Watching them figure things out. Seeing who they’re going to become.” I shrug one shoulder. “Plus, I want a big family someday.”
Sorren goes very still beside me.
“How many is…big?” he asks after a moment.
“I don’t know. Four? Five?” I make a face. “Maybe more, if I don’t completely lose my mind first.”
He considers that. “In my world, we produce larger litters,” he says gravely.
I choke on a laugh. “Good to know.”
My body heats before I can stop it, my brain helpfully supplying an image of Sorren shirtless in my kitchen. Of his hands on my hips. Of—
Oh, my God.
The thought derails so hard I drift toward the next lane before jerking the wheel back.
Rabbit shifters and humans can’t even…can they?
