Page 129 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
‘Are you not picking that up?’ he called after her as she muttered a curse and strode out of the room.
She needed air. Cold water. Anything to cool the fire beneath her skin.
She would not allow him to see how easily he unsettled her, how his teasing slipped beneath her armour and curled there, dangerous and warm.
‘Stop following me,’ she snapped the moment she sensed him behind her—the faint shift of air, the warmth of his presence far too close.
‘I’m not following you,’ he replied easily. ‘We’re leaving in five minutes. I’m heading outside. We just happen to be walking in the same direction.’
‘You’re insufferable.’
‘And you’re beautiful.’
The words struck her mid-step.
Dawn nearly stumbled, catching herself against the roughstone wall. She looked over her shoulder slowly, suspicion sharpening her stare.
‘Don’t do that.’
His brow furrowed. ‘Do what?’
‘Play these ridiculous games.’ Her voice tightened. ‘It isn’t funny.’
‘I’m not playing.’
She stopped altogether and turned on him, pressing her fingers hard into his chest. ‘Do not lie to me. Why do you keep saying things like that?’
Her voice betrayed her and she hated herself for it. She had shown him too much already. Too many fractures. And now he was prying at them.
‘Because it’s true,’ he said quietly, and there was no teasing in him now. No smirk. ‘Dawn, you’re beautiful.’
She stepped back as though burnt.
‘Of course I am likethis.’ She gestured at her borrowed wyverian form—the perfect skin, the polished features, the illusion of belonging. ‘But not when I’m a—’
The word lodged in her throat.
Not when I’m a witch.
Not when I’m just me.
Kai’s expression changed. The lightness drained from him, replaced by something harder.
‘I hate it when you do that,’ he said, jaw tightening. ‘When you speak about yourself like that.’
She gave a hollow laugh. ‘Why? It’s the truth.’
‘No, it isn’t.’ He took a step closer. ‘Do you think I like it when you glamour yourself?’
Her heart thudded. She glanced up and down the narrow corridor, suddenly hyper-aware of stone and shadow and the possibility of listening ears. But they were alone.
‘I hate that you feel you have to hide,’ he continued, voice low. ‘I hate that I don’t get to see your real face. I wish you never had to do it. I wish I could always look into your purple eyes.’
She retreated another step, the wall pressing warm against her back.
‘Stop,’ she whispered. ‘Stop doing that.’
‘Why?’ He moved forward again, not touching her, but close enough that she felt the heat of him. ‘Why does it scare you so much?’
