Page 10

CHAPTER 10

B ella watched Malrik from under her lashes, fascinated by the contrast between his ferocious appearance and his unexpected courtesies. He tore into his portion of rabbit with primitive fervor, those deadly claws making quick work of the meat, yet minutes earlier he’d pulled out her chair with a formal gesture that seemed ingrained rather than learned.

The firelight played across his features, highlighting the powerful curve of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. His fur looked soft in this light, the dark silver taking on amber highlights. and she caught herself wondering what it would feel like beneath her fingers. Every so often, as she chatted about her progress with the repairs, his face seemed to flicker—a momentary shift towards something more humanoid before returning to beast form.

“I think I can get the main power conduits working tomorrow,” she said, keeping her tone cheerful and conversational. “The connections aren’t as damaged as I thought. Whoever designed this place built it to last.”

He grunted in response, but his eyes remained fixed on her.

“Did you design it?” she asked, remembering how he’d seemed to know every corner of the keep.

“Mine,” he growled, then paused as if searching for words. “Built for… me.”

“This entire place was built for you? It seems awfully big for one… person. All this space, the grand rooms—you must have been important.”

He looked away, something like shame crossing his features.

“Pride,” he muttered, the word sounding rusty, as if it had been long unused.

How had someone so powerful and wealthy become the male he was today?

“Even with all the tech, you must have had an army of servants. Didn’t any of them stay?”

He paused mid-bite, yellow eyes flashing with something unreadable. A low rumble emanated from his chest before he repeated, “Mine.”

“I understood that part,” she said dryly. “When did you build it?”

His features seemed to flicker again before he answered.

“Long… ago,” he growled, then shook his massive head as if to clear it.

“It must have been magnificent,” she said softly, looking around at what remained of the grand kitchen. Even covered in dust and decay, the scale and craftsmanship were impressive. “I’d love to see it restored someday.”

Something in his posture shifted—a slight straightening of his shoulders, a lifting of his head. Pride, perhaps? But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the wary tension that seemed to be his default state.

“I’ve been thinking about what systems to prioritize,” she continued, sensing his discomfort with the previous topic. “Power is obviously critical, but we should also get the water filtration working properly. I noticed some of the pipes are corroded.”

He grunted in what she took for agreement.

“And maybe some basic communications? I don’t know if any of that infrastructure still exists, but?—”

“No,” he interrupted sharply. “No… signals. No others.”

She held up her hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, no communications. Got it.” She filed his reaction away for future consideration. Why was he so adamant about isolation?

As they continued eating, night fell completely outside the windows. The kitchen grew darker until the only illumination came from the hearth fire, casting everything in flickering orange light and deep shadow.

She squinted at her plate, barely able to make out what remained of her meal. “Do you have any candles? Or working lights? It’s getting hard to see in here.”

He shook his head, the firelight reflecting in his eyes like twin yellow flames. Of course, she realized. With those eyes, he probably had excellent night vision. She’d need to add lighting to her growing list of repairs.

She leaned back in her chair with a tired sigh. The day’s events were catching up with her—the worry about her father, the shock of finding him imprisoned, the bargain she’d struck, and the subsequent discoveries about her unusual host. Her muscles ached from both the journey and crawling around in the control room, and her skin felt gritty with dust and sweat.

“I don’t suppose you have a bath?” she joked, running a hand through her dust-streaked hair. “I must look a fright after crawling around those control panels.”

His eyes glowed as he studied her and she felt the warmth rising to her cheeks. Then to her surprise, he nodded and rose from his seat, gesturing for her to follow. He moved toward the doorway, his massive body blending with the shadows.

She stood and followed him, but as soon as they left the kitchen, she realized that the corridor ahead was pitch black. She could hear Malrik moving ahead of her, but she couldn’t see a thing.

“Wait,” she called. “I can’t see in the dark like you can.”

She didn’t hear him return but she felt the heat radiating from that big body and reached out blindly. She found his arm and wrapped her fingers around his forearm. The fur there was as soft as she’d speculated, despite the hard muscle beneath. Something electric passed between them at the contact, and she felt a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with fear.

His muscles flexed beneath her hand, and he pulled away. Before she could apologize, his arm came around her shoulders instead, drawing her against his side with exquisite gentleness.

“I’ll need you to lead me,” she said, her voice sounding breathless even to her own ears.

His only response was to pull her closer, guiding her through the darkness. Despite his gentleness, she was overwhelmingly aware of his size and strength as they walked. His body radiated heat, and that wild masculine scent filled her senses.

They passed through several corridors, and she tried to memorize the turns, but soon lost track. Finally, they entered the room she recognized as his sleeping chamber, with the nest of furs on the raised dais. But instead of stopping, he guided her toward a doorway on the far side that she hadn’t noticed before.

The room beyond was bathed in silvery light. Moonbeams streamed through tall windows, illuminating what could only be described as a bathing chamber fit for royalty. The centerpiece was an enormous sunken tub built into a window enclosure, allowing the bather to look out over the mountains while soaking. The stone surrounding it was veined with something that sparkled in the moonlight, and elaborate mosaics decorated the walls.

“This is beautiful,” she whispered, moving forward to examine the tub. It was carved from a single piece of stone, smooth and cool beneath her fingertips.

Feeling hopeful, she turned one of the ornate taps. For a moment nothing happened, then water began to flow—not the rusty trickle she’d expected, but a clear, steady stream of steaming hot water, filling the air with warmth and moisture.

“Hot springs,” he said, his voice surprisingly clear. “Piped through the walls.”

She blinked at him, startled by the relative eloquence of his words. His eyes seemed more focused, his posture less bestial. It was as though another personality had briefly surfaced through the feral exterior.

Before she could say anything, he turned abruptly and strode toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

He paused at the threshold but didn’t turn around. “Privacy,” he growled, the word sounding more strained than his previous speech.

With that, he disappeared into the darkened bedroom beyond, leaving her alone with the steaming bath and her confused thoughts.

She stood motionless for a moment, processing what had just happened. That brief glimpse of… something else behind Malrik’s eyes had unsettled her. There was more to him than the beast he appeared to be—she’d suspected as much from the beginning, but now she was certain.

The interaction had felt charged with something she couldn’t quite name—something that made her heart beat faster and her skin tingle where he’d touched her.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. She was being ridiculous. He was a Vultor—a beast-form Vultor at that—and she was his… what? Prisoner? Guest? Repair technician?

Whatever she was, she should focus on the task at hand. And right now, that task was getting clean.

Shaking off her reverie, she investigated the rest of the bathing chamber. She found what appeared to be soap in a stone niche—ancient and dried out, but still recognizable. There were large cloths folded on shelves that might serve as towels, though they were dusty with disuse. She shook out a few and draped them over the ornate rack next to the tub.

Then she stripped off her muddy coveralls. Her skin prickled in the cool air as she tested the water with her toes. The perfect temperature. She slid into the tub with a sigh of pure pleasure. The hot water enveloped her, immediately easing the ache in her muscles. She ducked her head under, letting the water soak her hair and wash away the day’s grime.

When she surfaced, she noticed a shelf of stone bottles near the tub. She reached for one and uncorked it, sniffing cautiously. The scent of something like lavender filled her nose. Bath oil, perhaps? She poured a small amount into the water and was rewarded with fragrant bubbles.

As she soaked, her thoughts kept returning to Malrik. Who had he been, before whatever tragedy had transformed him to his current state? And why did she feel such an inexplicable pull toward him, despite his fearsome appearance? Was it the way he looked at her sometimes, with a hunger that had nothing to do with food…

She sank deeper into the water, feeling her face grow hot. She was being foolish. Whatever Malrik was—beast, Vultor, or something in between—she was here to fix his keep and then return to her father. Nothing more.

What had happened to him? Even though the Vultor were rumored to shift between forms, she’d never heard of one being stuck in beast form. And this place—he’d said it was built for him. That suggested he had once been someone of importance, perhaps even wealth or nobility.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” she murmured, echoing a line from one of her father’s old storybooks.

Her father. Worry pierced through her momentary contentment. Had he made it to Agatha’s cottage safely? Would Agatha understand her note and reassure him? She’d programmed the wagon’s autopilot as best she could, but technology could be unpredictable, especially the older models.

She forced herself to take a deep breath. There was nothing she could do about it now. She’d made her choice, struck her bargain. All she could do was fulfill her end of it and hope her father was safe.

She poured more of the fragrant oil into her hand and started to scrub away all traces of her journey. Why had Malrik departed so abruptly. Had he left to give her privacy, as he’d claimed? Or had he been uncomfortable with their proximity? Perhaps both.

“Focus on the repairs,” she told herself firmly. “That’s why you’re here. Fix what needs fixing, fulfill your bargain, then go home.”

But as she sank deeper into the warm water, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her task might be more complicated than she’d initially thought. There was more broken in this keep than just its technology.

And somewhere in the darkness beyond the door, a beast with a man’s eyes was waiting.

When she was as clean as she could be, she reluctantly left the warmth of the tub. As she dried herself on one of the large cloth towels, she realized she had nothing clean to wear. Her coveralls were filthy, and she’d left her pack with her spare clothes in the kitchen.

A wardrobe stood against one wall, and she opened it hesitantly. Inside hung several garments that must have belonged to Malrik in his more humanoid form. She selected what appeared to be a robe, enormous by her standards but better than nothing.

She slipped it on, the soft fabric enveloping her completely. It smelled faintly of him—that wild, earthy scent—and the thought sent another inexplicable flutter through her stomach.

Gathering her dirty clothes, she opened the door to find Malrik standing just outside, his massive form silhouetted against the dim light from his bedroom. He seemed to be breathing heavily, as though he’d been running, and his eyes glowed like embers in the darkness, fixed on her with an intensity that left her breathless.