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Her glare snapped back into place, her spine straightening.

A dark grin stole over my face.

Gemma had surprised me. She’d intentionally tried to throw my words back in my face by doing the unexpected.

But pride was pride.

I had enough of it, too, to know that my words would infuriate her.

Smoothing my thumb over her cheek one last time, I rose without a whisper of a sound. She climbed to her feet angrily, gripping the edge of the table until she stood, fists clenched at her side. I imagined that it also enraged her how much larger I was. I imagined it cut that she had to crane her neck back so far to meet my eyes.

My body was still humming with desire, and judging from the hard press of Gemma’s nipples against the silk of her dress, she was just as disgusted about it as I was too.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zaale coming back to the terrace, a fresh pot of thickened tea one of my brothers had sent from Vyaan perched in his hands.

His step stuttered when he saw me, and I ground my back teeth. Could he tell? Could he see the change in me, the difference that my kyrana’s blood made?

Of course he can, I thought. Zaale had been a keeper in my family’s estate since before Kythel and I had been born. He would be able to tell.

And I saw when realization hit him. When his gaze flickered to Gemma, assessing her in a way he hadn’t before.

“We will speak when I return,” I told Zaale gruffly as he approached the table. “I need to leave. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Gemma’s head snapped to me. Was that relief in her expression?

“Very well, Kyzaire,” Zaale murmured, setting the tea down, his movements stiff.

Because he knew what this meant.

I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to worry. I had made a promise to my family. I had prayed to our gods and goddesses at House Kaalium’s shrine. I would not turn my back on Aina. I would secure her vengeance and her justice for us all.

“Tell Maazin I need the lore yield reports upon my return,” I added. “I’ve reminded him once already and am reaching the end of my patience.”

“I’ll make sure it gets done,” Zaale replied.

Turning back to Gemma, I informed her gruffly, “Stay out of the keepers’ ways. You may roam the estate, but do not venture into the villages below.”

Her jaw tightened. “You’ll have me watched?”

“Would you rather be locked up in your rooms?” I asked, quirking my brow as I stepped toward her, my belly heating with the thought. “Because I can certainly arrange that in my absence.”

Wisely, she kept her mouth shut. Bit her tongue actually, judging by the small clench in the sides of her cheeks.

“Good wife,” I purred, savoring the spark of fury that lit up her gaze at the words. Leaning forward, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, I murmured, “Rest up. I’ll be ravenous when I return.”

Chapter 13

Gemma

Leaning against the banister of the terrace, pressing my belly into its front, I sighed, lovingly tracing the view of the Silver Sea, memorizing every lapping ripple and wave that came my way and crashed into the cliffs below, sending a salty spray upward that misted through my hair.

Even with the peaceful view and the surprising freedom that I’d been afforded around Azur’s keep, I found that I was getting restless.

Bored, even.

I’d been working myself to the bone for the last five years, hauling myself up before dawn to oversee the work in the blue salt mines, before trudging back to our estate at nightfall to run through inventories and export schedules and ledgers of balances and debts. Worrying myself sick over when the next debt collector would come. Wondering if I’d find my father beaten and bruised again when it came to light that he couldn’t pay.

And now…

I’d been sold to a Kylorr male. My only fears now were when was the next time he’d feed from me…and if I would embarrass myself by succumbing to the tantalizing pleasure that his bite wrung.

I didn’t want it.

I would rather be afraid.

I would rather his bite hurt and pinch and ache.

Only it didn’t. It didn’t hurt me. It was the opposite.

Azur would be returning tonight. He’d been gone two days, and I’d spent yesterday roaming the endless halls of the keep, mapping out the corridors in my head, memorizing them so I could navigate them with Ludayn. I’d poked my head in doors that I probably shouldn’t have, even the keeper’s quarters, much to the bemusement of the Kylorr who’d been dozing there.

Today, taking further advantage of Azur’s absence, I would venture to the west wing. I’d already explored the east, north, and south wings of the keep, admiring the almost gothic architecture with its bold yet delicate lines. I’d run my hand over carvings in the walls, images depicting scenes of battle or of alien, though majestic, landscapes on Krynn. I’d uncovered a circular, wide set of stairs in the south wing that led up to an observation tower, affording an even grander view of Laras than I’d thought possible. Nearby I’d found a library, filled to the brim with books and ancient tomes, written in both the universal tongue and the Kylorr’s language. I’d spent a good portion of the evening thumbing through brittle pages and running my finger down leathery spines, searching for anything having to do with Krynn’s history but finding nothing relevant to my own interests.

The keep of House Kaalium was beautiful.

More elegant and grand than I’d ever expected, with a deep-rooted history living in its walls. At times during my exploration, I swore I’d felt a touch or a cool prickle at my back or across my arm. Only when I’d turned, no one had been there. There had been a hum of awareness in the air, though I hadn’t been threatened by it. Only cautious.

Old souls were still living here, I’d decided. And they were as curious about me as I was about this place. I wondered how long the family had lived in Laras. A long time, I guessed, considering the age of the keep alone.

Footsteps sounded behind me, coming down the stone steps toward the private corner of the courtyard I’d discovered. A female was humming, though it wasn’t Ludayn. Near the transport tunnel doors—which had been locked, I’d discovered—I was shielded from sight of the stairs considering the tumbling blooms and vines that needed desperate care.

When I craned my neck around the corner, I stilled.

It was Kalia.

The Kylorr female hadn’t seen me yet. She was twirling an indigo flower in her hands, inspecting it as she pinched the stem. Like the first time I’d seen her, she was dressed in tight-fitting pants and a beautiful forest-green top that was encrusted in shimmering gems and inlaid with metals. They made an intricate swirling pattern down her breasts and over her abdomen, the thick hem flaring out slightly over her hips.

The females I’d seen in the keep didn’t wear dresses, and I realized that it was probably difficult to fly in one. It was frowned upon for human females to dress in such a way—in pants and tunics—especially from the noble houses. I’d always been annoyed when my dresses got tangled around my ankles as I’d stepped over boulders in the mines. How much easier it would’ve been had I been free to dress like Kalia.

“Hello,” I greeted softly, stepping out from my hiding place. I had on my gray dress this morning. Since I’d decided to continue exploring the keep, it was also my most comfortable, the material soft from wear, though there was a large hole Piper had sewed closed for me with white silk thread, right at the side of my waist.