Read BOUND (#1 in The Crystor Series) Page 28

Chapter Twenty Four

  Octavion crouched near the fire watching the flames lick the night air. He should have put Kira in the cave where she’d be sheltered from the cold, but he needed the fresh air to weaken her scent—at least for tonight. He glanced up through the tree branches to find a tiny sliver of light cradled in a puff of grey clouds. The further away from the moon’s dark phase, the more time he could spend with her. It was getting easier with each day that passed.

  He stirred the coals before taking another glance in Kira’s direction. Even at a distance, he could see her shivering.

  Lydia rolled over under her covers and opened her eyes to thin slits. “Why are you still awake?” she whispered while fighting a yawn. “Thinking of new ways to piss me off?”

  He recognized her goading and he wasn’t about to give in to her and have an argument. Not tonight. “Stoking the fire.” He gestured toward Kira. “I sent Toran to check the perimeter.”

  “Bring her closer to the fire.”

  Octavion shook his head. “The wind keeps shifting. She would either have a face full of smoke or have the wind at her back. She is better off in the shelter.”

  Lydia rose up on one elbow. Her eyes wide open now. “Octavion?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Maybe you should just, ya know . . . hold her.”

  This time her voice was softer and held meaning. Octavion studied his sister’s eyes, thinking her words were sarcasm. But all he saw was a tender heart and a genuine concern for her friend. And maybe a little prodding for her big brother. It had been a long time since Octavion had allowed himself to feel and Lydia knew it.

  He turned back to look at Kira’s trembling form. In the past few months, he’d spent more time than he cared to admit watching over her, taking in her every move. The way her auburn hair swayed when she walked. Her sweet voice as it drifted through the air and found his ears, even at a distance. Her laughter was like a finely tuned instrument that sang to his senses. He’d wanted to hold her in his arms for so long that the past few days seemed like a dream just to be close to her—a dream that quickly turned into a nightmare.

  “She won’t mind.” Lydia interrupted his thoughts.

  Octavion swallowed hard. “I could make something warm to drink. Tea perhaps. That would keep her warm.”

  “She doesn’t need tea. She needs you. If you can’t see that, maybe you don’t deserve her. Besides, you need to rest.”

  He took in a deep breath and blew it out through his mouth. “If she hates me come morning—”

  “She won’t. I promise.” Lydia wiggled down under the covers and turned her back to him again. A few seconds later she mumbled, “A girl could die of pneumonia waiting for you.”

  Octavion growled loud enough so she could hear it. It wasn’t the fear of holding Kira close that made him uneasy; it was admitting how he felt about her. He’d drawn an invisible wall between him and Kira and sworn never to cross it. Now that wall was quickly crumbling. If he lowered it, and let her into his heart, he’d have to tell her the truth about who he is—about what he is—and that was what he feared most.

  He dropped the stick he’d been using to stir the fire and stood. Holding her in his arms would be easy. Keeping her there was another story altogether.