While market-type stalls are visible, they’re staggered apart with storefronts separating them, and smaller side streets break off from the large open walkway that’s clearly the main path. With the increasing number of monsters around me, I can only imagine how sprawling this place is. It’s nothing like the outback towns I’m used to.
I side-eye Solan when he doesn’t respond, my hidden brows shooting high when his strands react in a gentle wave.
He’s embarrassed. Fuck knows how, exactly, I’m so sure, but without a doubt, he is.
“What is it? Are you some kind of celebrity or something?” I’m only half-joking. But if he is, I’m not sure how long I can get away with blending in. It’s the few legit terrified expressions I’d caught, though, that make me suspect that he’s far from holding some sort of celebrity status.
After the briefest of hesitations, he shoots a glance my way. “No,” he answers gruffly, his voice quiet as he steps to the side, his palm touching my back and sending a bolt of awareness to every nerve ending. He guides me away from something blue and sticky on the ground and then drops his hand.
Inhaling a ragged breath, I pretend like the storefront selling some sort of metallic-looking pot is the most interesting thing in the world. It’s safer than chasing Solan’s touch while wanting to race back to Jamie and hide somewhere until another freak explosion happens.
Yeah, talk about mixed fucking feelings.
I’m dancing between hating the sensation of contemplating all these bullshit thoughts and feeling so incredibly grateful that Solan was the one to come to our rescue.
Maybe that’s all this is: gratitude. Getting a boner for the monster who saved us shouldn’t make sense in any universe. But here we are.
Solan saying, “I have a role here. It is why I am known,” makes me jump. He’d been quiet for so long, moving with sure, certain movements through the increasingly busy streets, it was easy to forget I’d asked a question. After his “No,” I hadn’t expected anything else.
I angle my face to peer up at him, meeting his eyes briefly before he looks ahead. “And what’s your role?” I keep my voiceeven despite a flurry of nerves waking up in my gut. That Solan’s being evasive is obvious.
Nothing he’s done has made me doubt him or his intentions, but I’ve made more than one decision over the years that’s ended up biting me on the arse. And sure, I might like the idea of Solan scraping his sharp fangs over my skin a little too much, but it’s not sensible to put my complete faith in him.
So why the fuck does even thinking that I can’t trust him implicitly send a slither of wrongness dancing up my spine?
“Solan?” I push, keeping my voice quiet but threading as much of a demand through it as I can.
His throat moves in a swallow, tugging my attention there, and I follow its path. I dart my gaze back to his face as he turns it my way, hauls me to the side, and pauses.
Nerves send a shiver down my spine, causing a fresh outbreak of goose bumps.
But fuck if he doesn’t look equally as nervous.
His gaze searches mine, the flash of his fangs appearing as one pinches against his bottom lip. He parts his lips, his voice a deep cadence as he says, “I’m… I’m theKelvarra.” Despite the hesitation that preceded his statement, he manages to keep his voice steady. The unfamiliar word rolls off his tongue with an almost-reverent weight, but it leaves me blinking in confusion.
“The what now?” I ask, leaning closer to ensure I’ve heard him correctly.
“TheKelvarra,” he repeats, his gaze shifting away from mine to scan the bustling street. A couple of Glowranth pause mid-stride, their eyes darting between us before they hurry on. Solan doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe he does and chooses not to care. “It’s… a title. A role given to me by the town’sHarethrin.You might call her a mayor or governor, though she serves the sovereign state.”
My confusion deepens. “Okay, so what does aKelvarrado, exactly?”
His jaw tightens, and the strands of his sensory “hair” ripple faintly, betraying his discomfort. “I am this town’s protector,” he says, his voice low enough that I have to strain to hear him over the clamour of the market. “When someone or a creature threatens the borders, when something unnatural breaches the safety of Myra’s Crossing, I am called upon to eliminate the threat.”
That part makes sense. He saved me and Jamie, after all. His accuracy was true and deadly. But there’s something more in his tone, a gravity that tells me he hasn’t shared the whole truth yet.
“And?” I press, my voice quieter now, coaxing rather than demanding. “That’s not all, is it?”
Solan exhales through his nose, his head tilting downwards as if the weight of what he’s about to say has become too much. “No,” he admits. “I am also… the executioner. When the queen’s law must be upheld and punishment delivered, it falls to me to carry it out.”
I stagger back a step, my chest tightening as I process his words. The picture of Solan I’ve built in my mind—gentle, compassionate, with those sparks of humour that keep me grounded—is suddenly painted over with shades of violence and death.
An executioner.
My throat feels dry. “You kill people,” I say, the words blunt and unpolished as they tumble out of my mouth.
His sharp intake of breath makes me flinch. His gaze meets mine, and for the first time, there’s something like shame simmering beneath his glowing eyes. “Only when there is no other choice,” he says firmly. “Only when theHarethrindecrees it necessary to uphold order. TheKelvarramust serve the town and its people. I do what is required to keep them safe.”
The bustling street seems to fade around us as the implications settle in. Fear prickles at the edges of my mind, but it’s not for me—it’s for him. I’ve seen how others look at him, with that blend of respect and terror. I can only imagine what it must feel like to carry that burden.
