Page 31 of Blood Singer

Heat rushed into my face. "I haven't been—"

"Leila." Sanyra's voice gentled, and when I met her eyes, I saw understanding there. "I'm not judging you. I'm just saying that if you want to talk to my cousin, you should probably be honest with yourself about why."

"It doesn't matter why," I said quietly. "You just told me he can't bring himself to mate again. That he's still bound to a grief he's carried for centuries. So whatever I'm feeling, it's pointless."

"I said he won't mate," Sanyra corrected. "Not that he can't. There's a difference." She paused, weighing her words. "Kavan has mourned Marion for a very long time. And in the past week, I've watched him watch you the same way you watch him. Like he wants something he's afraid to reach for."

My pulse gave a violent flutter against my ribs. "He's been avoiding me."

"Because he's terrified," Sanyra said simply. "My cousin is many things—a warrior, a king, a leader who's held this kingdom together through impossible circumstances. But when it comes to matters of the heart? He's a coward. He'd rather run than risk being hurt again."

The blunt honesty rang true, recalling the sheer terror that had flickered behind Kavan's eyes before he stepped back from me on the mountain.

"He's always so busy," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "I mean, if I wanted to talk to him about the dating app—where would I find him?"

Sanyra's mouth curved with triumphant amusement. "He spends most afternoons at the training grounds. About a fifteen-minute walk from the castle, past the gardens and through the eastern gate. You can't miss it—just follow the sound of swords clashing and males trying to prove they're the biggest dragon in the sky."

"Thank you," I said, meaning it for more than just the directions.

"Don't thank me yet," Sanyra said. "My cousin is stubborn and damaged and absolutely terrible at admitting what he wants. If you're going to pursue this—and I think you are—you'll have your work cut out for you."

"I'm not pursuing anything," I protested weakly. "I just need to talk to him about the app."

Sanyra's laugh was warm and disbelieving. "Sure you do. Good luck with that, Lady Leila Hunter. Something tells me you're going to need it."

She drifted back toward the crowd with Amy, leaving me standing under the glittering chandeliers with a set of directions and the dangerous urge to jump straight into the fire.

I glanced across the ballroom one last time. Kavan was still rooted by the terrace doors, a solitary figure carved of shadow and stubborn grief, his shoulders tight beneath his formal coat.

I told myself I would go to the training grounds tomorrow afternoon strictly for the mission. I would speak to him about network parameters, comm pad distributions, and dating platform logistics.

I knew I was lying to myself.

I was going because I couldn't stop looking for him. I was going because my blood sang whenever he was near, because my skin still tingled with the phantom memory of his breath against my lips, and because I was reckless enough to demand the truth from a terrified king.

I had no idea how to fix what was broken between us, but I was not going to let him hide from me any longer.

Chapter 10

Kavan

The clash of steel on steel rang through the training grounds, sharp enough to make my teeth ache. I drove forward with another strike, forcing Torven back three steps before he deflected the blow. Sweat ran down my spine beneath my training leathers, and my muscles burned with the kind of exertion that should've brought clarity and quieted the chaos in my head.

It wasn't working.

"My lord," Torven panted, his sword arm trembling as he blocked another attack. "Perhaps we should—"

I didn't let him finish. I swept his legs out from under him with a move that was more street brawl than formal combat, and he hit the packed earth hard enough that I heard the air rush from his lungs. My blade was at his throat before he could recover, the tip pressing just hard enough to dimple his skin without breaking it.

"Dead," I said flatly. "Again."

Torven stared up at me, his golden eyes wide with something that looked uncomfortably like fear. He was one of my best warriors, had trained under Sanyra herself. He shouldn't have been this easy to defeat. But I'd been fighting with the focus of something possessed for the past hour, and every warrior who'd stepped into the ring with me had ended up on their ass in the dirt.

I stepped away and offered him my hand. He took it, but wariness flickered across his face as I hauled him to his feet.

"You're fighting angry, my lord," he said quietly, brushing dust from his training leathers. "Reckless."

"I'm fine," I said, though we both knew it was a lie.