to the obstacle course had endangered not only her life but the lives of everyone there.
The protector in Graydon wouldn't allow such an action to stand. He'd hunt down and punish them with all the rage and fury he was capable of.
Kira would do the same. In that, they were alike.
"What brings you out here?" Kira asked, changing the subject.
He settled closer, the heat of his body wrapping around her, warming her against the cooler night. "What? Do you have a monopoly on this terrace? I'll have to inform the Overlord."
Kira looked at him. "You don't strike me as the type to enjoy a quiet night under the stars."
No, he was more apt to find a warm companion to tantalize and tease in bed, driving them mad with passion before leaving them in the morning.
Kira had seen the force of his presence on those around him. Even the Luathan women eyed him with desire when they thought no one was watching.
He was handsome and seductive, likely growing bored almost as fast as he fell into lust. But for a night or a week, he would be insatiable.
He leaned closer, his breath whispering across her face. "I am full of surprises. I'd be happy to show you."
He leaned back and waited.
"Why do I get the feeling your surprises might be more than I can handle?" she asked.
His smile was slow and wicked. "You can handle me, coli. I promise."
Kira ignored the innuendo in that statement, though it was hard. Part of her wanted to take him up on the offer, if only to see if they'd burn as hot and bright as she suspected.
"You were good with the children today," she said instead.
He made a sound of amusement, guessing exactly what she was doing. "I understand what they're going through. I was in much the same situation when I was their age."
"Did your parents die in the Sorrowing?"
There was a strained silence, Graydon's gaze growing distant as painful memories surfaced. "No, they died much earlier."
"What were they like?" Kira asked.
A sad smile touched his mouth. "My mother was soft-spoken, quiet. She let my father lead, unless something threatened me, then she was a fierce foe."
"They were both warriors?" Kira asked. This was a different side of Graydon, softer, more inviting.
"Yes. They were oshota, the overlord's personal warriors," he said, his voice wistful. He reached up and tugged on a lock of Kira's hair, straightening the wavy piece only to release it and watch with fascination as it sprang back.
"They died protecting their overlord during an assassination attempt. The overlord and many others survived. They did not," Graydon said, an ache in his voice.
Kira's lips parted. She held in what she wanted to say, unsure what words were fitting in the face of his very real pain, even after all this time.
She didn't know what that was like. She'd never had parents to miss. In the compound where she’d been held, such things didn't exist. By the time she was rescued by Himoto, the concept of parents and family seemed more fairy tale than anything else.
Still, she'd seen other families since, had friends who filled that spot in her heart. She knew what it was to lose those you cared about.
"I was luckier than Joule and Ziva, the overlord’s brother was a friend of my father. He took me in, trained me as my father would have," Graydon said.
"Why didn't you remain with him?" Kira asked.
A grin flashed. "I wasn't born to follow."
"That's obvious," Kira said. Graydon would always be the biggest, baddest thing in the room. She hesitated on this next question. “Did you know my parents?”
As the Emperor’s Face, he would probably have had contact with them at some point—unless his position was a more recent development. Two hundred might seem old to her, but for his people he was probably still considered young.
His thumb brushed the edge of her hand. Quiet stretched between them. “I was more of a passing acquaintance of them,” he finally said. “Your father is more familiar to me than your mother.”
“What was he like?”
Graydon paused as he considered the right words. “Kinder than you’d expect. He was an overlord, but he didn’t let that turn him cruel. He was playful, but when he was mad, he was scarier than even a lu-ong mother protecting her unhatched eggs.”
That sounded like more than passing familiarity with her father. There was nostalgia in his voice, almost as if he missed him. Had Graydon been her father’s friend?
Sensing