The Silent(26)

“Arindam’s sons held off our brothers as well as they could, but two of them were killed,” Niran said. “Sura and I survived, but Kanok did not. Prija was in a coma for a year. When she woke, she didn’t speak anymore.”

Leo said, “And Arindam’s sons lost the taste for rebellion.”

Niran nodded. “They decided that they could not bear the losses to their number, even if it meant staying under their father’s rule.”

“You cannot discount that Arindam has always been more generous with his offspring than Tenasserim was,” Sura said. “Many of their number are hundreds of years old because their father feeds them power.”

Alyah said, “So they’d rather live longer, even though they serve a Fallen master?”

“It’s easy to judge them,” Kyra said, “if you don’t fear sudden death.”

Leo heard the brittle pain in her words. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lap. He wanted to steal Kyra away and perform the mating ritual immediately, but that would mean explaining how he knew they were reshon.

It wasn’t a conversation he wanted to rush, but fear for her life tormented him. He also didn’t want to raid a Fallen compound weak from the mating ritual, but he’d do what he needed to keep Kyra alive.

“Arindam’s sons returned to him, and because of my tattoos on their bodies, they are more powerful,” Sura said. “We knew it was a risk, but we trusted them. That trust was misplaced.”

Leo nodded. “Do you know where their compound is?”

“There are several where they could keep Prija among their own sisters.” Niran marked three locations on the map. “There are very few kareshta among Arindam’s children, but here is where he keeps them. I would guess they would take Prija to one of these places.”

“How far are they from the border?” Kyra asked.

“The first is around one hundred kilometers into the country. The others are deeper in.”

“I’ll be able to read the first one before we cross,” Kyra said. “I should be able to give you an idea of what you’ll be facing.”

Sura nodded. “Then you’ll come with us. Leo, can I assume that means you will too?”

“Of course,” Leo said. “Keeping the kareshta safe is within the mandate of every scribe. I am happy to help in the search for Prija. Plus we need to find out the identity of the Irin who is working with them.”

“Agreed,” Alyah said. “I have just spoken to Dara. With your permission, she would like to assist. She can have five warriors here in the morning if you wish.”

“I think stealth is our friend,” Niran said. “With Sura and me, two of my men, Leo, Kyra, and you, that is already seven. Any more than that and I think we risk attracting too much attention.”

“Agreed,” Leo said. “But perhaps some Irin scribes and singers would be able to help keep watch over the temple while you are gone? That would allow you and Sura to focus on finding Prija without worrying about your sisters’ safety.”

It would also be a startling act of trust, and Leo doubted Niran would agree to it. He was surprised when the suspicious Grigori spoke directly to Alyah.

Niran said, “Do you guarantee that my sisters will be safe with these men? That they will do nothing to expose them or take them from their home here?”

Alyah said, “I give you my word. I will choose the scribes myself. Dara will listen to my suggestions. If you want only trained singers here, that is also possible.”

“And Ginny would help,” Sura said. “I’ll call her once we have a plan.”

Niran stared at Alyah for a long minute before he nodded. “Then I accept your help in guarding our sisters. My men will remain in authority here, but we will take your offer.”

“Understood,” Alyah said. “Thank you for your trust.”

Niran said nothing else, but his eyes returned to the map. “The longer we wait, the farther they can take her.”

“Where is Arindam himself?” Leo asked.

“He moves.” Sura gestured over the map. “I can think of half a dozen secluded places he might hide.”

Leo shook his head. “I know nothing about Myanmar, so I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“We’ll plan everything.” Niran glanced at Kyra. “You take care of our radar system.”



She looked exhausted. Her eyelids were drooping, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Leo picked her up halfway through the forest and carried her to the cottage.

“I can walk,” she protested even as she laid her head on his shoulder.

“But why would you when I can carry you so easily?”

“Leo…”

“Hmm?”

She yawned. “I don’t remember what I was going to say.”

“I’m going to stay with you tonight,” he said. “I can sleep on the floor. Or if you don’t want me in the cottage, I can sleep on the porch.”

“That doesn’t sound comfortable.”

Leo smiled. “I’ve slept in worse places. Trust me.”

She paused, and Leo thought she might have fallen asleep.

“My bed is big enough for both of us,” she said quietly. “But… just for sleep.”

“Whatever you want, ana sepora.” His heart sang. He’d be able to hold her as she slept.

“That’s Irin language. I recognized the sounds. What does it mean?”

“My bird.” He kissed the top of her head. “Because I want to watch you fly.”

“Leo…”

“Hmm?”

Kyra had fallen asleep.

Leo sang a low song as he walked through the forest. It was a song of thanksgiving, the same song he’d sung kneeling before her when he realized that Kyra was truly his reshon.

“And what does reshon mean?”

“What?”

“Reshon. Your voice was very, very clear…”

Kyra was his reshon. A soul created to match his own. A gift of heaven and the truest mate in every sense. Her soul would feed his own. His touch would soothe her, and his voice would resonate the most clearly in her mind. Always—for the rest of his life—she would be his other half.

Profound gratitude filled his heart, and a prayer fell from his lips in the Old Language:

“I give thanks to the Creator

For in my heart I have found

The other half of my being

My search is over

My soul is complete.”

Leo walked through the silent forest, nodding at each of the Grigori who stood watch among the kareshta cottages. Clad in deep saffron robes, Niran’s men looked like monks and bore the intricate Sak Yant tattoo marks Sura had given them. But every face, no matter how calm, had the determined look of a warrior.

He climbed Kyra’s steps and opened her door, toeing off his shoes before he entered. A lamp was burning in the corner of the room, and Kyra’s eyes flickered open when he closed the door behind them.

She murmured, “We’re back.”

“And you’re exhausted,” he said. “But do you want to clean up before you get in bed? I can get water.”

“My feet…” She wrinkled her nose. “There’s water in the corner.”

Leo set her down on the bed and took off her sandals. Her feet were dusty from the dirt and gravel paths through the temple and the forest, so he walked to the corner and poured some water into the large bowl on the nightstand. He took it to her, then placed her feet in the cool water.

“What are you doing?”

“Washing your feet.”

Her cheeks turned delightfully red. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

Leo brought the pitcher to the side of her bed along with a lump of fragrant soap and a towel he found hanging in the corner.

“Pull up your dress,” he said, kneeling at her feet. “Just a little.”

Kyra slowly pulled the sundress up to her knees, baring her ankles and calves to his gaze. Leo’s pulse picked up and he hardened, but he ignored his reaction and poured the water over her legs, following the path of the clear liquid as it ran over her shapely calves, caressed her ankles, and fell quietly into the ceramic basin. He picked up the soap and dipped it in the water, lifting his eyes to hers as he ran his hands up and down her legs, washing the dust and grime of the day from her skin.

Kyra said nothing, but her lips were flushed. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath as she watched him. Leo took his time, running the soap over every inch of her skin, slipping his fingers behind her knees to ease her foot up before he traced the lines of her legs down her shins and around her ankles. He stroked the arch of her foot, and her toes curled in his palm before he washed them too. He massaged her ankles and her calves, easing the tension from the muscle there with long strokes.

Her skin was soft and smelled of jasmine. The oil in the soap shimmered on the surface of the water as he tipped the water pitcher over her legs again, rinsing the suds from her skin before he lifted each foot and dried it with the soft towel. He pushed the basin to the side and placed her clean feet on his thighs before he closed his eyes. He put his forehead to her knees and kissed her skin, hugging her legs to his chest.

“Leo, you—”

“Shh.” His breath warmed her knees. “This is enough.”