Page 74 of Claimed By the Condemned Alien

His brow lifted.

“Restraint,” she said.

That brought back the faint smile.

“I recommend it.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“I won't.”

The warmth between them was quieter than the heat that had flared in the infirmary when she touched his arm. More dangerous in some ways, because this had nothing to do with an unknown band activating against her skin.

This was simply liking him.

Kesta looked toward the empty platform where Mira had been.

“Nethra said you learned the wrong lesson from Avarra.”

Dreven’s expression tightened.

“She says many things.”

“She seemed fairly confident.”

“She usually is.”

“And usually, right?”

His tail moved once.

“Annoyingly often.”

Kesta smiled.

Dreven looked at her for a long moment, silver eyes softer than she had yet seen them.

“Good night, Kesta.”

“Good night, Dreven.”

He walked toward the command quarter.

Kesta remained beside the fissure until the last gray trace of Mira’s ash disappeared into the darkening sky.

She still did not trust Ash Camp completely. Its laws had grown from survival, and survival had apparently justified some ugly things long before she arrived. Dreven’s protection was useful, limited and still capable of becoming something she did not want if she stopped paying attention.

But the man himself was becoming harder to fit inside the same judgment.

He argued with her.

He irritated her.

He had withheld nothing in council simply because the truth was uncomfortable, and when she had been right about Horan, he had listened because medicine was her field rather than because he had been properly corrected.

Most inconveniently, she was beginning to look forward to the moments when the stern line of his mouth shifted into that rare smile.

The attraction was becoming easier to admit.