“Okay. But you had no problem trying to”—I swallowed against a dry throat—“bedme.”
His eyelids lowered. “And I would’ve kept you up all night, lioness, if you’d let me. Trust me on that.”
Queasiness rolled through me, lifting my stomach and dropping it again. Shit. Why had I eaten that extra biscuit with breakfast? It wasn’t sitting right.
“But I’ve always preferred my women spirited. The Lady Amryssa doesn’t appear to have heard the word.”
I frowned. “She’s stronger than you think.”
“She looks like a stiff breeze would carry her off.”
“You’re underestimating her.” My tone heated, as if I could pour enough acid into my voice to scald him. “Not that you care, or even deserve to hear it, but any man would be lucky to call her ‘wife.’ Amryssa’s better than anyone I’ve ever met. She’s generous. Self-sacrificing. She’d take an arrow for anyone without even thinking, whether they deserved it or not. And I don’t know about you, but that kind of selflessness isn’t something I come across every day. Maybe not ever again. Which makes her worthy of respect. She’s the most unselfishperson I know, and I wouldn’t have married you for anyone else’s sake.”
He fell silent. Something in his eyes changed—a subtle clearing of space, almost, like clouds parting, or a crowd thinning to reveal someone I hadn’t expected. Someone who now considered me with interest, as if I were a puzzle in need of solving.
“I think you might actually mean that,” he mused.
“I mean it with all my heart.”
“Hmm.”
That was all he said. But the force of his attention coaxed goosebumps from my arms, despite the heat.
I cleared my throat with enough vigor to throw off the sensation. “Don’t tell me you’ve never met someone deserving of loyalty.”
“Never. In my experience, no such thing exists. Most people are unforgivably selfish. Myself included.”
I hesitated. Well, we agreed on one thing, at least. “That’s my point, though. Most peopleareselfish. So when you find one who isn’t, the last thing you should do is pass them by. It’s better to give yourself to them. Humble yourself. Because they might be the only person to ever deserve that, and if you miss your chance, you might never get another.”
“I...see.” Kyven contemplated his palms for a moment, then glanced up through his lashes. “And are you such a person? The kind I ought to give myself to?”
“No.” I scooted back an inch. “Gods, no. What?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Well, you would have me believe you acted out of selflessness last night. That your friend’s well-being concerned you more than a title. In your own words, you married me to protect her, which would make you one of those exceptionally rare altruists you just spoke of. The kind I should humble myself before. Right?”
My lungs sucked at the brackish air as I tried to parse the dexterity with which he’d turned my argument against me. What he saidsoundedlike it made sense, and yet I hadn’t meant that at all.
“No. You’re...getting it backwards.”
“Am I?” The question was mild, but his attention never wavered. That rapier gaze threatened to cut away the bramble of my defenses and leave me with...well, who knew.
Seven hells, I’d wished and wished for him to dispense with those ridiculous half smiles, but now that he had, I wanted them back. Desperately. The way he scrutinized me twisted my insides into configurations I didn’t recognize.
“I didn’t mean anything like what you just said,” I managed. “I’m not anyone special. I’m no one at all, really. Just a girl who found someone to believe in, in a place where everyone’s forced to embrace the worst of themselves.”
“But not you? You resist your baser instincts?”
I considered. “Only because I have the luxury of being able to. If Amryssa hadn’t given me this life, I wouldn’t have the option.”
He inched closer, infiltrating my personal space with the scent of bracken and brine. His eyes were like wintry lances, aimed at my heart.
My breathing stalled. This was...different. A glimpse beneath the mask, only I didn’t see a monster there, but someone quick-witted and inquisitive and...engaged.
“So you’re grateful for what you have,” he said.
I forced air through a parched throat. “Very.”
“And loyal. To a fault, it would seem.”
