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you to destroy our House. When we meet again, I trust you will have a new outlook."

As he closed the door behind him, the last piece of her world fell away.

 

 

Chapter 32

 

 

 

Worry over Cianne's safety stole any hope of Kila's being able to rest. He paced every inch of his lodgings, its walls confining even as they seemed to shield him from the city's dangers.

What could they do? Kila didn't know if he truly wanted to remain in Cearova. Burl didn't suspect him of anything, so he could continue on as he was. He could take pains to conceal from her his true motivations, continue to work his way into her trust. She was contemplating bringing him in on her participation in House Staerleigh's plans, and if he could worm his way into the inner circle he would be able to provide Chief Flim with invaluable information. He could work from the inside to bring down the trade Houses, to expose their role in the royal family's murder, and do his part to bring about justice.

Was he concerned about that justice, though? And how long could he continue with such a charade? No matter how meticulous he was, Burl was as gifted an Enforcer as he, and he could not guarantee that he wouldn't betray small indications that would eventually lead her to the truth about him. Was he willing to risk his own life for the good of a realm that had never claimed him as one of its own?

What of Cianne? It didn't appear that anyone in her House suspected her, and Vivie was proof that not everyone in House Staerleigh was content to go along with the House's dictates, to trust that the Elders were looking out for their best interests, and to turn a blind eye toward anything that didn't seem quite right. Perhaps Cianne could work with Vivie. She was more of a House insider than Kila could ever hope to be, and she had already proven how effective she was at being a shadow. She could continue to move about the city, collecting evidence and spying on House meetings. It was thanks to Cianne that they had gained the proof they had so far, and with time she would be able to obtain even more.

All of that might have worked had she not insisted that she had to tell the captain the truth about his father's death. Kila understood why she felt it was necessary, had even felt a twinge of envy that the captain had such a true friend in Cianne that she was willing to put herself at great risk to do what she felt was right by him. Yet Kila couldn't bring himself to trust the captain. He could be an invaluable asset, there was no denying that, but would he be able to keep such a thing secret? Would he be able to continue to work with the Elders, to maintain the pretense of a relationship with his mother, all while concealing his knowledge that they had conspired to murder his father? Wouldn't the information eat away at him, erode his conscience until he either unwittingly exposed the truth or did something drastic in order to salve his sense of self? Kila wasn't willing to risk it. Cianne's life was far too precious.

What if the captain doesn't believe her? a voice he wanted to ignore whispered at the back of his mind. What if he blames the messenger and decides to take his grief and rage out on her?

When Kila put it all together, when he considered things from every angle, he knew that only one thing mattered to him: Cianne. What had happened to the royal family was a travesty, filling him with a sense of revulsion. The conspirators deserved to be exposed and brought to justice, but he wouldn't trade Cianne's life for that justice. The thought of her entrapped in the pit of vipers that was House Staerleigh terrified him. Whether to stay or to go was her decision to make, but he wouldn't deny that his worst fear was that she would decide to stay.

"Cianne," he gasped when she came through his door.

Her gaze turned his way, but she didn't seem to see him. Her eyes were wide, the whites luminous, and the look on her face made his blood run cold.

"What is it? Tell me what's happened," he said, closing the distance between them in two swift strides, grasping her arms with gentle fingers. His pulse throbbed with such force it was like a drum, beating out a steady, frantic rhythm.

"Lach, he…" Her voice broke and she swallowed in a huge, gulping sob. "They got to him. I don't know how they did it, Kila, but they convinced him what they did was the best thing for the House, and he's gone along with it." Tears streamed down her face, and his heart fractured.

"I'm so sorry, Cianne. I am so very sorry," he said, drawing her into his arms.

Her sobs broke, her body convulsing with the force of her grief. "He called me his weakness, warned me that he wouldn't be weak when he returns from his voyage."

A ferocious chill froze Kila's bones. "He'll expose you?"

"If I don't prove my loyalty to the House, yes."

Shuddering, he brushed loose strands of her hair away from her face, cupping it and tilting it back so that he could see her. "Cianne, you're in danger. How can you…" His frenzied mind couldn't find the right words.

"I can't," she said. "I can't do it anymore. I don't want to do it anymore. I want to see my mother."

Relief flooded him, sorrow swift on its heels. "Oh, thank the gods. It's not safe for you here anymore."

"It never was," she said, a spasm of bitterness twisting her features.

"I know Captain Stowley was dear to you. I'm sorry that you've lost him."

Tears filled her eyes as she gazed at him, and he swore he could see her every raw emotion, stripped bare and exposed to him. "It hurts, Kila, but I can live with it. What I can't live with, could never live with, is if something were to happen to you."

He caught her hand as the backs of her fingers brushed his cheek. Turning it, he kissed her palm, her wrist. "I couldn't bear it if something were to happen to you either. I want to beg you to leave the city, but I promised myself I wouldn't. I told myself I haven't that right."

"But if I leave—" she began, her voice choked with agony.

"I'm coming with you. If you'll have me," he said.

Shock widened her eyes even more, and she stared up at him in disbelief. "But, Kila, I didn't… I thought…"

"Cianne, I've been falling in love with you since the first night you broke into my lodgings."

Her mouth twitched at his mention of her uninvited presence in his home, but she still appeared to find his words inconceivable. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say something when I told you how I feel about you?"

"What could I say? What could I offer you? I knew you could never be with me, not while you were a member of House Staerleigh, and I couldn't ask you to defy your House for me. I couldn't ask you to abandon everything you've ever known."

"Kila, there is nothing I wouldn't sacrifice for the chance to be with you. You are the only true friend I have ever had. Do you not know how precious you are to me, how infinitely dear you have always been?"

"You're equally precious to me, which was why I kept my feelings to myself. That may sound strange, but, Cianne, I feared what might happen if we were to run away together, because that's what would have been necessary. What if you grew to resent me for having taken everything from you?"

"Taken everything from me? All you've done, all you have ever done, is give. You gave a wounded little girl a place where she felt safe, where she knew she wasn't alone. You gave a frightened woman a sanctuary, a place where she could be her true self, for once in her life. There is no one else in my life like you, Kila. No one."

Her hands were on his face now, and she pulled his mouth down to hers. Their dire situation gave their kiss a frantic edge.

"I'm not certain this is wise," he said to her in a jagged voice, hating that he caused hurt to flicker across her face. She started to pull away from him. "No, please, Cianne, stay. What I meant was that when I kiss you I never want to stop."

She stilled, her eyes locking with his, the intensity of her passion sweeping over him courtesy of her burning gaze. "Then don't stop."

Abandoning all sensible thought, he swept her into his arms. He couldn't forget the imminent danger they faced, but he would never forgive himself if something were to happen and he had denied Cianne, had denied himself, this chance to be together.

"You have no idea how I longed for you," he murmured as his lips grazed over her skin. From the sweetness of her mouth, he trailed his tongue to the hollow of her throat, making her gasp and arch her neck back as she thrust her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, urging him to continue.

"Yes, yes I do," she said, her voice throaty. She broke away from his mouth so that she could kiss his neck, provoking a low groan of pleasure from him.

Their mouths met again and they kissed deeply. Her tongue teased him, tasting him, driving him to the brink of madness. He couldn't get enough of the taste of her, of the intoxicating scent of her skin, and his fingers fumbled with her collar as he pushed it aside to allow him greater access to the sensitive skin of her neck. She shivered, clutching him, her hands bunching up his shirt until she freed it from his breeches. Her warm, soft hands slipped up underneath it, splaying over his skin, sending frissons of pleasure up his spine. She pressed her hands to the small of his back, bringing him closer to her, crushing his body to hers. The feeling of the length of her body against his made him shudder.

"I want you so desperately I can't maintain a coherent thought," he told her in a voice rough with passion.

"I want you too. I want to be with you, now."

"Are you certain?"

"Please, Kila. I burn for you."

The words nearly made him lose his head, and his fingers fumbled with the lacing at the top of her leather vest. He wanted to race, was desperate to feel her skin against his, but he wouldn't rush this. With deliberate slowness he undid her vest, her breathing growing increasingly ragged as he proceeded. His fingers brushed against the curves of her breasts through her shirt and shift and she trembled, clinging to him.

Her hands continued their exploration of his back, making his skin flush. She teased him with kisses, working her way from his jaw to his ear, her breath hot against his skin, setting every nerve in his body on fire.

His hands shook as he slid her vest away from her body, and he drank in the sight of the thin linen shirt clinging to her form. Her nipples were erect, and she moaned as he slid his thumb over the right one. He cupped her breasts in his hands, learning their contours, the feeling of her stiff nipples against

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