The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(109)

Laksh turned at the edge of the clearing, locking eyes with her.

“I’d stay longer but I’d rather not be taken back as a traitor. I always rather liked my head,” he said. “I’ll be back for Kunal. You know he’ll always be one of ours, right?”

Laksh sent her a wicked grin before dodging into the underbrush.

Esha bristled at his words, tamping down her instinct to follow. She couldn’t leave Kunal to the two soldiers.

She threw the knife.

It missed his heart, but found his arm. Laksh pitched forward but kept running, disappearing into the darkness of the jungle.

Esha cursed, hoping the poison would at least slow him down.

Someone yelped and Esha jerked around, finding Kunal on his back and Jageet standing over him. Saran was struggling to his feet, his eyes on Kunal.

Esha launched herself up and toward them and within seconds she was behind Jageet. With one brutal motion, she drove her knife into his back, right underneath the gap of his cuirass.

“You wench,” Saran growled as the young one fell, blood drenching the sides of his cuirass. He changed course, charging toward her now.

Once again, Esha had saved Kunal.

At the sight of her, Kunal’s body settled and his training and survival instinct snapped back into place.

He got up unsteadily, to move to Esha’s defense, but she yanked out the knife she had used to kill Jageet. She sent it flying through the air and it landed in Saran’s neck.

The soldier staggered back, surprise etched across his face, and Kunal rushed forward, knocking him out with a final blow to the head.

He dropped to the ground, lifeless as stone.

Kunal whipped around to face Esha, who was staring at the soldier’s body, regret on her face. And even after everything, she moved forward to slit each of the soldier’s throats—taking care to ensure a merciful death, instead of the slow pain of bleeding out.

When they locked gazes and Kunal saw the weariness and pain and guilt in her eyes, he realized something with every thud of his heartbeat.

She was a risk, the biggest risk he might ever face, but Kunal knew in his bones it was one he wanted to take.

The reward might be everything he had ever wanted.

A sharp intake of breath made her turn.

Kunal’s eyes bored into her and her replying gaze was weary.

This was her—violent, broken, ugly. Laid bare.

Her hands fell to her side, the knife dropping onto the ground with a soft thud as she walked toward the nearest tree. She braced herself against it, closing her eyes for a moment to master the churning sea within her.

Kunal had looked at her with an expression she couldn’t identify, but it had curled around his face, blooming into an intensity that hurt her. She could feel his gaze burning into her skin and she knew if she opened her eyes, he would still be staring at her.

But one thought kept swirling around in her head.

That it was disgust on his face and he would leave. He had seen her viciously killing a boy—a soldier too, but still a boy. Who would love the animal, the Viper?

She wanted love that warmed the coldest corners of her soul, that whispered into her darkness with words of welcome.

But she didn’t believe it existed. Or that she deserved it if it did.

She began to turn, not wanting to see the transformation on his face when Kunal recovered from the shock he must be in.

She opened her eyes. Kunal walked toward the tree and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back toward him like a whirlwind. She nearly stumbled over her own feet, she was trying so hard to avoid his eyes.

He tugged her chin up and she braced herself for fear and disgust.

In seconds, his lips were on hers with a ferocity that almost made her step back, catching her off guard. It didn’t take her long to respond in kind, meeting his storm with a crashing wave of her own. She pulled him closer so that there was no separation between them, no point where their bodies weren’t touching.

Skin on skin. Fire to fire. His fingers curled in the matted tangle that was her hair, leaving trails of blood across her chin, jaw, neck, collarbone. Her eyes fluttered open in a small gasp as he kissed the hollow behind her ear.

Behind him she saw the gleam of bronze armor on the ground.

It was enough to break the spell. She pulled away. He frowned at the new distance between them and she threw a shrug in the direction of the bodies.

“I’m happy we’re the ones who are alive,” Kunal said, his voice fierce. “I’m lucky to be alive. You came back for me.”

Esha couldn’t hide the shock on her face. It sounded like he hadn’t expected her to. She couldn’t help herself from asking the question that was on her mind.

“But they were your comrades.”

“I know, but they weren’t the friends I thought I had.” Esha heard the pain in his voice. “You have been more of a friend to me, Esha.” His arms tightened around her, refusing to let her go.

“If I’m a friend, I’ve been a horrible one,” she said. Esha tried to walk away again, unable to face him to tell him the truth of it.

She was no such friend. All she had done was bring destruction and death to his life. That’s all she had done to everyone she cared for.

“Stop. Stop.” He tried to tug her back but she fought him. “Esha, stop!” The ferocity of his words stopped her. “Stop running away. You let me live a dozen times over, you came back for me. You know who else has done that in my life? No one. No one has fought for me, ever.” The ferocity lessened, a small grin appearing on his face. “We may have had a small rough patch where we tried to capture and kill each other. So what?”