The man before him now was jaded. Guarded. Suspicious and almost cold.
"Is her betrayal why you became a Dark-Hunter?" Julian asked.
"Yes."
Julian closed his eyes as he felt compassion and anger for his friend. Over and over in his mind, he could see Kyrian the way he'd been all those centuries before. His human eyes had always been laughing, mischievous. Kyrian had loved life in a way very few people ever did.
Generous in spirit, kind in nature, and courageous of heart, Kyrian had even managed to win Julian over and he had truly wanted to hate the spoiled, arrogant brat.
But hating Kyrian had been impossible.
"What did Valerius do to you?" Julian asked.
Kyrian drew a deep breath. "Trust me, you don't ever want the exact details."
Julian saw Kyrian flinch as if some memory flashed in his mind. "What?"
"Nothing," Kyrian said sharply.
Julian's thoughts turned to Kyrian's wife. Small and blond, Theone had been more beautiful than Helen of Troy. Julian had seen her only once, and then at a distance. Even so, he had known instantly what attracted Kyrian to her. She had possessed an irresistible aura of grace and sexual expertise.
Barely twenty-two when he met her, Kyrian had fallen in love instantly with the woman who was eight years his senior. No matter what any of them said about her, Kyrian had never listened. He'd loved that woman with every fiber of his body and soul.
"What of Theone?" Julian asked. "Did you ever find out why she did it?"
Kyrian tossed the salve back into the bag. "She said she did it because she was afraid I couldn't protect her."
Julian cursed.
"My thoughts were somewhat stronger," Kyrian said quietly. "You know, I lay there for weeks trying to figure out what it was about me she hated so much that she could hand me over to my worst enemy. I never knew I was that big an asshole."
Kyrian clenched his teeth as he remembered the way his wife had looked when they had started his execution. She had met his gaze levelly, without even the tiniest bit of remorse.
It had been then he'd known that even though he had given her only the very best of himself, the whole of his heart and soul, she had never given him anything of her. Not even her kindness. If only she'd had one flash of regret in her eyes, one tiny bit of sorrow...
But only morbid curiosity had darkened her face.
It had torn his heart asunder. If she couldn't love him after all he had given, then he must truly be unlovable.
His father had been right all along.
"No woman can ever love a man of your standing and wealth. Face it. All you will ever be, boy, is a hefty purse."
To this day, his heart wept from the truth of it. Never again would he allow a woman that much hold over him. He refused to let love or anything else blind him from what he needed to do. His duty was all that mattered.
Now more than ever before.
"I am so sorry," Julian breathed.
Kyrian shrugged. "We're all sorry for something." He reached for his torn, bloodied shirt.
"Listen," Julian said, stopping him, "why don't you take a shower and let me loan you some clothes?"
"I have a hunt to finish."
"No offense, Kyrian, but you look like hell. Granted it's been a long time since I fought, but I know how much easier it is with a full stomach and a hot bath."
Kyrian hesitated.