Page 43 of Hunger in His Blood (Brides of the Kylorr #3)

CHAPTER 43

KALDUR

“ W here are we going?”

“You’ll see,” I replied to Erina, guiding her through the keep.

The East Wing afforded the best views of the gardens and the mountains beyond Vyaan. I thought that she would enjoy it there the most, even though it was farther from my own study. Selfishly, I had wanted to keep her close. But she was so attached to the garden, to the beauty of it, that I wanted her to be able to look at the window and see it when she was not there.

When we reached the door, she looked at me curiously. I merely grinned at her, feeling better than I had in a long time. Part of that reason was because I was excited to show her what was inside.

“Will you tell me why we’re here now?” she asked, a quizzical look on her face.

“I have a gift for you.”

“Another one?” she asked, blinking. I could see that the prospect pleased her, however. Erina Denoren hadn’t been given enough gifts in her life, I realized, but I intended to spoil her with them .

She looked childlike in her sudden curiosity, waiting for me to reveal it.

“Go inside,” I murmured, brushing my fingers across her cheek.

I was eager to see her reaction but also worried I might’ve gotten something wrong. I’d consulted with an artist in the village a couple days ago, who owned a shop along the row of the square, the one where Maudoric had informed me Erina visited often. The shopkeeper had only been too eager to help me.

Erina pressed down on the door handle before she swung it inward. She stepped inside while I hovered on the threshold.

Her back was turned to me so I couldn’t quite see her expression, except through a gilded mirror I’d had hung alongside the opposite wall, next to the wide window. And even in the mirror, I could only see half of her face.

I watched as slow realization dawned, her eyes slowly taking in the room as she deliberated over its purpose.

“Oh,” she breathed, astonishment crossing her face next. Her gaze began to flit around faster, her head swinging as if she didn’t know what to settle on. “ Oh. ”

The studio had turned out just as I’d imagined it. A brightly lit room, filtering in golden light from the dawn on that gentle morning. A large enough room so that it didn’t feel cramped in the slightest, with plenty of space to move around since I knew that Erina liked to pace when she was thinking something over for her stories. There was an unlit hearth to the right of the long room, the mantle decorated in fresh blooms. Straight ahead were three sets of windows that shot up a couple dozen feet in the cavernous room. The view beyond them was a perfect one of the gardens, every little vein of the pathways apparent. I could even see the tall hedges of the starwood courtyard from here and could just make out what I knew Erina had dubbed the Orchard, where she’d stolen many bluestone fruits to nibble upon during her long afternoons there .

In front of the window lay a drafting table, one that could be adjusted to different angles.

“I’ve never…” Erina started, going to it, reaching out to touch it though her hand only hovered. “I never thought I’d…”

My chest twisted, and I rubbed at my heart over my tunic. I knew what went unspoken. She never thought she’d have one of her own.

She turned to look at me, a startled look of confusion still on her face. “What is this?”

“Your gift,” I replied, approaching her. I watched as her gaze darted over the shelves I’d had installed yesterday morning, stacked with supplies I’d purchased from the shopkeeper. Pencils, paper of different varieties—ranging from nearly transparent to thick parchment that was even difficult to tear, sketchbooks, brushes, and paints in nearly every color imaginable. I’d cleaned out most of the shop, truth be told, making the shopkeeper’s eyes bulge.

And I worried that maybe it was too much, judging by the look of confusion on my mate’s features…but I hadn’t wanted to miss something important. Kythel would have known what supplies Erina might need. He had an interest in this, but the rest of us would’ve known nothing.

“My…my gift,” she repeated. “The table?”

I laughed, reaching forward to cup her cheek. She craned her neck up to look at me, though she was continually distracted by the shelf, drawn in by the sheets of paper and the stack of notebooks.

“Everything,” I murmured. “All of it is yours.”

“ What? ”

I released her to gesture around the room. “Your studio. There is still one more thing coming. I had a desk made for you, custom to your height. So you can write there instead of on the drafting table. It’s being lacquered today, but I suppose…I couldn’t wait to show you. ”

She stared up at me as if I’d grown two heads.

“You…you made me a studio?”

“Yes,” I replied, trying to read her and for the first time, failing. “I know you like to write and draw in the garden, but I thought you could use this room too. It’s yours. You can do with it whatever you please.”

Had I…miscalculated?

“Oh,” she said, looking down between us, at the plush rug I’d had Maudoric purchase in the village, one that had curling vines and little leaves.

Erina promptly burst into tears, and I froze in dismay.

I took her into my arms when the shock passed, pressing her face into my chest. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice tight. “I shouldn’t have assumed. I’ll get rid of?—”

“No!” she said, pulled away quickly. Looking up at me with a tear-stained face, her brown eyes glistening, she looked miserable as she cried, “I love it! Don’t you dare change a thing.”

Startled, I asked, “You do?”

“Yes!” she cried and then dissolved into full sobs again, leaving me standing there helplessly bewildered, mildly concerned, and somewhat relieved.

“What’s wrong, then?” I asked, threading my hand into her hair, rubbing at the back of her neck as if that might calm her down.

“N-Nothing. It’s perfect,” she sobbed. “Too perfect. I—I didn’t expect it. I’m just surprised.”

My brow furrowed, continuing to rub at her neck even as my wings twitched in indecision. She continued to cry against me as I deliberated what to do.

“You like it?” I asked again after a long moment had passed.

When she looked up at me, this time she tried to give me a watery smile, laughing. “Yes.”

My shoulders finally relaxed .

But then her eyes strayed to the left wall, at the painting I’d taken from the orphanage. Maudoric had had it reframed for me.

Erina held her breath as she stumbled from my arms. “Is that?—”

“Yes,” I replied, trailing after her. “I did something bad.”

“You,” she started, but then the words caught in her throat. She stopped directly in front of the painting, peering up at it with wide, glassy eyes. I stopped beside her, worried she might burst into tears again, my hand coming to the small of her back. “How did you get this?”

“I stole it,” I informed her, quirking a brow. “Well, took it. Technically Vyaan, and by extension me, owns the land the orphanage stands on.”

She turned to me, her expression still stunned. “You went there?”

I inclined my head. “It sounded important to you. I wanted you to have it back.”

Unless I’d misjudged her again.

But I knew I hadn’t, especially when she threw herself into my arms.

I embraced her tightly, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “Is it all right that it’s here? Or would you rather have it moved?”

“I love that it’s here,” she breathed. She pulled back, beaming at me brightly, even though she’d begun crying again, fat little tears rolling down her face. “Gods, the pregnancy hormones,” she laughed, wiping at them. “Kaldur, it’s…”

She looked back at the painting.

“It’s like a beautiful memory I’d forgotten, a bittersweet one,” she said. “Seeing it again, it’s surreal. It means a lot to me. Not only this painting but that…that you would do this for me.”

I rubbed at the space over my heart again, feeling the muscle contract uncomfortably.

“You told me you had dreams of seeing your stories throughout the Kaalium,” I said. “I know that you would get there on your own. But I wanted to help you, if I could.”

I saw the emotion burst in her eyes, a startling brief moment of disbelief and happiness, and she went up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to my lips. As chaste as it was, I took advantage, keeping them captured until her laugh pushed her away.

“I’ve only received a few gifts in my life,” she said, “but this one has to be my favorite.”

My chest swelled with the words.

“And this,” she said, waving her hand back to the painting, looking at it with fresh, disbelieving eyes, “makes it even better.”

I watched her observe the painting. For long moments, she simply traced it with her eyes, as if going over every line and stroke she’d once made with her pencil. I imagined she could still draw every detail from memory.

Then she silently but happily inspected the rest of the room, and I stayed out of her way, content to simply watch from one of the armchairs I’d had placed in the corner. One meant for a Kylorr with wings. Me, specifically, so I might watch her work.

I watched as she fluttered from the shelves of supplies, as if cataloguing every last one. She went to the paper stacks, to the notebooks, running her fingers over the expertly stitched leather, sniffling.

She finally skimmed her fingers over the drafting table, sitting for a brief moment at the stool. It was a good height for her, I decided.

Finally she strayed to the bookshelf on the opposite side, near me and the painting. I’d left it mostly empty, deciding she could fill it with whatever she pleased.

Except…

“Is this your book?” she asked in disbelief, turning to me with wide eyes.

I inclined my head. “You should have it.”

The book I’d shown her in the library, what felt like a lifetime ago. That quiet, peaceful night which had shown me a glimpse of what a future with her could be like. Comfortable, warm, fun. I had liked to please her, to watch her expressions light up in excitement.

“And another one?” she asked, her fingers skimming over the spine. Immediately, she flipped it open, her eyes hungry for the landscapes, of alien places she might never see.

“I found it at a collector’s shop,” I informed her. What I didn’t tell her was that I had our off-planet ambassador searching for more. I would locate them all for her. Another gift for another time.

Next to the books was another Halo orb, with the capabilities of projecting the landscapes for her.

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” she asked, looking at the Halo orb and then to me. “I had no idea. You’ve been busy. And this was all before you got attacked by that lyvin pack.”

“That was my mistake,” I murmured. “I got too impatient.”

She strayed to where I was sitting in the chair. “And you were hungry.”

I grunted. “Like I said, my own mistake.”

“And mine,” she said softly.

“No,” I bit out.

She sighed, and I tugged her into my lap.

“It’s different between us now,” I said. “I won’t let myself get to that state again, all right?”

A part of me had treated it like a punishment. For how I’d hurt her, I’d thought that I deserved to hurt too.

Now I saw how foolish that reasoning truly was.

“I know I need to be strong,” I said gruffly. “For you. For our child. So that if anything happens, I can protect you to my full capabilities. I will never let myself get to that state again. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

It had been foolish. So fucking foolish. I saw that clearly now. What would’ve happened if Erina had been there last night? What if the lyvin had gone after her? Would I have been strong enough to defend her? We’d tracked down the pack in the woods because they’d attacked a farmer last night. But what if that had been Erina? My child?

“Kaldur,” she called, and I realized I was holding her too tightly.

I loosened my grip immediately as she reached up to smooth her finger down my face.

“I never asked how you got this,” she said gently. My scar, she meant. “The keepers had a lot of theories over the years.”

My lips quirked. “ Like what?”

“A brawl gone wrong. A scorned lover. A childhood fall when you were too daring.”

“All of them plausible, unfortunately,” I drawled.

“The keepers certainly thought so,” she informed me. I knew what she was doing. Trying to distract me when she’d sensed my reaction about the lyvins .

“My father made us all train with blades since we were young,” I informed her. “Thaine and I were training one day. I must have been fifteen at the time. Thaine, a couple years older. Our instructor was teaching us how to spar two opponents at once. She never took it easy on us—she, or my father, didn’t believe in that. The blades were always real, and we have the scars to prove it,” I said. “We were in the forest that day. Thaine accidentally tripped over a root when our instructor was coming at us hard. He tried to turn to get out of the way of her blade, which was”—I made a wide arc with my hand overhead, showing her where it would land—“coming right here.”

Right over the middle of my face.

“I saw it,” I said, giving her a curl of a smile. “I lunged to push him out of the way. And it came right here.”

Her fingers traced the scar. Old now—I didn’t even notice it anymore .

“You saved him,” she noted.

I gave a little scoff. “He would’ve been fine. Maybe lost an eye. It would’ve built his character better. I was the one maimed for life.”

She shook her head, a laugh of disbelief falling from her. “I’m sure the females found it very dashing,” she said dryly.

“They did,” I admitted, lips quirking as I teased her. My smile faded. “Thaine did feel terribly about it. He still does sometimes. I use it to my full advantage too.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she whispered, her eyes tracing the scar.

“I thought I saved him,” I murmured, raising a brow. “I’m a hero, remember?”

“And very humble too.”

I laughed. Then after it faded, so did my smile. “Truthfully, I didn’t really think in that moment. There were no consequences except Thaine being seriously injured. It was instinct alone. And had it been reversed, he would’ve done the same for me. So there’s nothing heroic about it. It was just me…”

“Loving your brother,” she finished.

“Yes,” I said, inclining my head. “You know what that’s like.” Referring to Luc, of course. “And even though they disappoint you, even though you sometimes don’t agree with their decisions, you still love them.”

Understanding had softened her gaze. “You love your family.”

“Deeply,” I rumbled. “Every last one of them, even when we can’t stand each other.”

“There were rumors a while back that you had a disagreement with your eldest brother over his choice of a wife,” she hedged, cocking her head to the side.

“True, unfortunately,” I rasped, feeling a twinge of regret when I thought of Gemma and our first encounter. “Azur…you’ll meet him one day. You’ll see. We call him the fire to Kythel’s ice. The twins. Azur took his wife for revenge alone, married her to keep her close. ”

“I know it had something to do with your aunt.”

“Were the keepers gossiping?” I asked, leveling her an inquiring, yet knowing, look.

“Always.”

“My aunt, Aina, was murdered during the Pe’ji War,” I told her. She should know. This was House Kaalium business, after all. “We were very close. And my own mother died not knowing what had happened to her sister.”

“That’s terrible,” Erina whispered. “ I’m sorry.”

“We discovered that Gemma’s father, Azur’s wife,” I said, nodding, “was involved in Aina’s murder during the war. Gemma had no knowledge of it and was horrified when she found out. Me and her… I nearly went into a rage one night at a ball in his keep because I couldn’t stand the thought of her own blood having been mixed up in Aina’s death. It ate at me. I didn’t agree with Azur, with what he was doing. But then…I didn’t realize that she was his kyrana .”

Her lips parted in knowing.

“Now I know what he’d gone through. I can understand him better,” I added, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “He would’ve never given her up.”

Her eyes burned into mine.

“But like me with my kyrana , Azur made his own spectacular failings with Gemma,” I added.

Erina sighed. “Is that meant to soften me toward you?”

“Yes,” I said shamelessly. “Because they are very happily mated now.”

She struggled to keep her helpless smile from showing. She turned her face to look away from me, her eyes going to the painting on the wall overhead again.

“Wasn’t Pe’ji in the book you showed me?” she asked. “That night in the library.”

“You remember,” I said. “Yes, it was. ”

“I’m sorry about your aunt. And your mother,” Erina said, turning back to me.

A delicate question rose in my mind, one I’d often wondered. “Do you ever think about your own parents? Who they were?” I wondered. “If you ever want me to investigate, I will.”

But Erina didn’t look sad nor excited at the prospect. “Is it weird that I don’t wonder about them often? I used to. When I was a child. Now…I think about my mother especially because I’m pregnant, but it’s a stray, passing thought. And then it leaves me. Because, you see, with the exception of Luc, I’ve always been alone. I wonder, especially in your case, do you think it’s better to have grieved those you lost, felt that terrible pain, or to have never known true grief to begin with?”

“Grief and loss is an important part of life,” I said, thinking this conversation was familiar before I remembered. “Ah. Our dallia fable conversation again.”

“It’s funny how it comes back around,” she said quietly, thinking over my words. “I…I would choose to grieve.”

“Why?”

“Because it means you loved someone to grieve them,” she said. “That’s a beautiful thing. A special thing.”

Our eyes met and held. My throat felt a little tight, hearing what went unspoken.

“Did you grieve me in Laras?” I wondered softly.

“Yes,” she answered. An honest one, raw and open. Simple. “And then I tried to do everything I could to forget you.”