Pyromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 1)

He lifted the bag he’d packed onto the bed. “I fetched some of your clothes. You can dress after eating. I’m sure you’ll feel better wearing things that fit.” He held out a sandwich to her.

She shook her head. Watching him from under her lashes, she asked, “How are my animals?”

The small zoo had surprised him. “I’m lucky your wolves didn’t rip me apart.”

She lifted her eyes quickly. “Are they all right?”

“They’re fine.”

“They’re my family,” she said, fixing him with a narrowed look.

He understood the warning. He shouldn’t mess with her dogs. “Where did you find such a pack of vicious wolves?”

She scoffed. “They’re not wolves. They’re hybrids. Hunters shot their mother. I found them as I was taking a shortcut to work one day. They would’ve died out there alone.”

“You take a lot of helpless beings in, don’t you?” When she didn’t reply, he said, “At least you had protection, seeing that you didn’t follow my advice.”

She blinked. “What advice?”

“Not to wander alone in the woods. I’m sure they’d keep any Iwigs at bay.”

“You remember that,” she said, sounding horrified.

“You rather hoped I wouldn’t?”

The words rushed from her lips. “I didn’t spy on you.”

Ah. The little witch was shy about him knowing the truth. She needn’t bother. Her fascination was nothing to be ashamed about. Despite what he’d said in anger, her infatuation had been innocent.

“Did you love her?” she asked.

Her words jolted him back to the present. “Who?”

“Thiphaine.”

The question came as a surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“It looked…” She swallowed. “Intense.”

He thought about it, considered lying for a moment, but he didn’t want to sugarcoat the truth. “Those girls meant nothing.”

Instead of judgment, her big, chocolate-colored eyes filled with sadness. “You used them.”

He shrugged. “I was young and ignorant. I’m not proud of who I was.”

Her voice turned bitter. “Meaning you’ve changed?”

“In some ways.” Or maybe not, judging from what had happened last night.

“Why did you do it?”

“Why was I promiscuous?” He thought for a moment. “Sex was a way of forgetting.”

“Your past?”

“Who I am. What I am.” It was easy to be honest with her, maybe because of their shared backgrounds. Anyway, she already knew the worst. Everyone in town knew.

“Is that why you were drinking last night?”

“Why do you care?”

She rubbed her hands over her arms. “I don’t.” Then she added more to herself than to him, “Not anymore.”

Right. It was cute that she’d had a crush on him, but it was better she saw him for who he was. He studied her, the big, round eyes, the beautiful pout of her lips, and the delicate shape of her face. “The question we should be asking is who are you?” They were running out of time. “Who was your mother, Cle? Has Erwan told you anything about your mother that could be connected to the fires?”

“I need to go home.” Despite the quiver in her voice, her words came out strong. “I need to take care of my animals.”

“You know you can’t go home.”

Tears made her eyes glitter.

Ah, hell. His armor wasn’t strong enough for her tears. “I’ll feed them. They won’t starve.”

She looked at her hands, hiding her expression behind a cascade of hair.

Traumatizing her wasn’t the way he wanted to go. It wasn’t helping either of them. He crouched down to put them on eye level and brushed her hair behind her ear so he could see her eyes. They were wide in her pale face.

“Do I scare you?” he asked.

She looked away. “Sometimes.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her gaze snapped to his. “Erwan will never come for me.”

“Never is a long time.”

“You’re wasting your time.”

“I think you underestimate your grandfather’s love for you.”

“You don’t understand.” She leaned away from him. “He won’t come because he knows I’d never want him to.”

He sighed. Maybe he should try a different angle. “Tell me about your father.”

Her features tightened. “There’s nothing to say about him.”

The little witch was hiding something. “You never tried to find him?”

“No,” she said through thin lips.

“Because he abandoned you?”

She balled her hands into fists. “I don’t care about that. I don’t need him. I never did and never will.”

“Why?” he asked, poking at something that carried all the signs of an unhealed wound. “Because you can’t forgive him or you want to punish him for not being there for you?”

“Because he raped my mother,” she said in a raised voice.

Shock turned him to stone. It was the last thing he’d expected. Katik’s scandalous pregnancy had been blamed on a holiday romance. She’d carried the brunt of the community all on her own.

In the awkward silence that followed, he straightened. He grappled for words, but all he could come up with was, “What a fucking bastard.”

She uttered a wry laugh. “I’m the bastard.”

A product of rape. “You shouldn’t look at yourself like that.”