Night Shift (Kate Daniels #6.5)(122)

It only mattered what Vela intended the taming to mean. If Mala was right, then she only had to be patient. She had to be stubborn. And she had to remember Kavik’s anguish as he’d charged into the water to save her. She had to remember his tenderness as he’d kissed her.

He hadn’t covered his heart in iron to hurt her, but to protect himself. She’d seen his pain after she’d refused to abandon her quest, and knew that he expected more agony to come. If it did, the agony would not come from her hand, and she would help him fight its cause. Though he could be hard, and the distance between them painful, Mala trusted that he wouldn’t deliberately hurt her; she could wait until he trusted her in return.

And she hoped the single night remaining before the full moon passed quickly. Though Kavik had been quiet these past days, his ravenous hunger for her still burned in his shadowed gaze. Taking him would not be easy, either. But she didn’t care if he was rough, or tried to persuade himself that he hadn’t softened toward her. Mala would find her pleasure in every merciless touch, in each brutal thrust.

She was just as hungry as he was.

Until the full moon came, however, she suspected that her only need to be sated would be her thirst. The sun had been warm, their ale had run dry two days before, and watered mead never satisfied as well. She was glad to see the Croaking Frog’s familiar banner with its lucky lily pad. Dally birds squawked in the stable yard behind the inn, bald pink heads bobbing, and their scraggly gray and white feathers floating everywhere. The ugliest birds that Temra had ever created—but also the most delicious.

As soon as she removed Shim’s saddle, the stallion trotted into the yard and began to snort at the swirling feathers. She glanced over to find that Kavik was already seeing to the packhorses. The furs he’d worn over his shoulders had been shed days before, leaving his steely arms bare. Her bottom lip between her teeth, she watched the sinews flex in his strong forearms as his long fingers tugged at the leather ties.

Without looking up, he said gruffly, “Will you go and see if there’s a private bed available for us?”

Swift joy rose through her. “Will we be sharing it tonight, then?”

“We will.” He came nearer, his gaze hot on hers. “And add this.”

He pressed a thin gold coin into her palm. She glanced up curiously.

Kavik turned to the horses again. “Ask Selaq to join us in the bed tonight.”

Did he think his fingers and tongue weren’t enough? Mala grinned at his back. “I prefer your touch, warrior. Not hers.”

“I want her there for me.”

Her brows rose. “Do you not realize she prefers women?”

Easily he lifted the heavy grain baskets balanced over the animal’s withers. “But she will lie with men for extra coin. I’m desperate for your sheath, but there’s no need to wait. I can f*ck another tonight.”

No, he could not. “Why would you say this to me, warrior?”

“Because one sheath is the same as any other.”

The edges of the coin bit into her fingers. “I told you that I would not share you after I had you.”

“I’ve not had you yet. That is why my cock aches for waiting.” His gaze was shuttered when he looked up. “And that is why I will have another tonight.”

“Do you believe that we’ve not already had each other just because my moon night hasn’t come? We’ve had each other over and over these past days, warrior. We had each other when you kissed me. When you rode by my side. When you slept by me and held me close.” She didn’t mistake the sharp agony in his gaze before he looked away. “Do you intend to hurt me or are you simply being a stubborn fool? Because I promise you, this will injure me.”

It would shred her heart more quickly than a pack of revenants.

Determination hardened his expression again. Catching her wrist, he took back the coin and started for the inn. “I will pay her myself, then.”

She stared at his retreating back. Her face seemed hot and numb all at once, as if repeatedly slapped. He’d been devastated when he’d thought she’d been poisoned at the river. And yet . . . this.

Maybe he would truly do it, maybe he wouldn’t. It mattered not. She’d told him this would hurt her and he intended to carry on anyway.

She’d been wrong about him. So wrong. Swallowing hard, she said after him, “If you give her that coin, you will not touch me again.”

For an instant, his step faltered. His fists clenched. But he continued on.

And she had not expected agony like this. Never had she imagined Kavik would slip a blade between her ribs and leave her bleeding. Throat burning, she blindly turned toward the packs, vision wavering with hot tears.

Vela. I need your strength now. Help me, please.

But the pain did not ease.



HIS legs barely seemed able to carry the crushing weight in his chest. It was done. She would not touch him. He would never touch her again. Even if she continued her quest and followed him until the end of his days, he would stand firm.

Except he could barely stand now. The heat from the ovens in the inn’s brewing chambers seemed like a demon’s breath on his face. As soon as he moved out of sight of the stables, he leaned back against the support of the walls.

“Kavik? Are you unwell?”

Selaq, with a blue cloth covering her yellow hair and a wooden tub propped on her hip. Her appearance made the coin in his hand seemed heavier than any boulder. He would never give it to the innkeeper. Mala never needed to know.