a combat class in ten. I can switch with Felicia, do her session tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
When the silky dark of Revel’s gaze met hers again, it wasn’t senior soldier to lieutenant, but man to woman. “Can you take a couple of minutes for a personal discussion?”
“Yes,” she said, knowing there was no point delaying this. “Let’s go into my office.” She’d seen juveniles padding around in wolf form farther down the corridor—they wouldn’t intentionally listen in, but all pups had big ears.
Revel spoke the instant they had privacy, his deep voice quiet but potent. “You’ve never once looked at me the way you look at Kenji.”
Not ready for such a blunt assault, Garnet sucked in her stomach, clenched one fist. “You’ve only seen us together for a few minutes at most.” The idea that she was wearing her heart on her sleeve, it aggravated her wolf.
She might do that after, but right now, a big part of her was still pissed at Kenji.
Revel smiled that slow, beautiful smile that had always drawn her . . . but not the way Kenji’s green eyes and wicked grin drew her. It didn’t make her insides flip, didn’t make her brain go kind of fuzzy. “I really thought we’d be good together,” she said before he could speak. “I wasn’t jerking you around.”
“I know.” Revel cupped her jaw with one hand. “As for you and Kenji, I saw the two of you dancing together at Hawke’s mating celebration, too.”
Leaning in without warning, he kissed her, an unexpectedly hot and wet and tangled thing, his hand gripping her jaw and his body heat buffeting her senses. “Sorry.” A grin that was utterly unrepentant. “Had to try and make you breathless at least once.”
“Goal achieved,” she gasped, but even then, deep within, she was steady, watchful.
Pretty and intelligent and dangerous though he was, Revel wasn’t for her.
“When you asked me out,” he said after releasing her, “I figured whatever you and Kenji had, it must’ve burned out, but it’s obvious to anyone with a single functioning brain cell that your flame’s going strong.” He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. “What I don’t get is why you two aren’t already together.”
She scowled. “Reasons.”
“If it’s because Kenji was a bit of a horn dog for a while, you should know he’s been a monk for the past year.”
Garnet stared at him. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Emi’s a senior soldier in Kenji’s den,” he reminded her, naming a year-mate. “We gossip.”
All wolves gossiped. It was part of being in a pack. “Do you gossip about me?” It came out a growl.
“Of course we do.” His eyes turned wolf-amber swirled with green. “But only among the three of us—me and Emi and Pia.” The latter SnowDancer was his twin and had transferred with him to Garnet’s den, the two having always worked well as a unit.
Pia had also recently been promoted, but where Revel was good when it came to dealing with the management of a den, Pia did better with more practical matters like taking charge of the training and security schedules. Regardless, the two were as thick as thieves—and best friends with Emi Lucenko. As Revel now proved.
“We act as one another’s vaults and release valves,” he said. “It’s good for Pia and me to have a non-twin in the mix and the contact’s good for Emi, too. You know how quiet she can be, how she holds everything inside.”
“Hmm.” Arms folded, Garnet leaned against the door.
She told herself not to ask, but she couldn’t stop herself—Kenji’s indiscriminate behavior when it came to skin privileges was something she needed to understand. And if her response was fueled by a jealousy she’d never before consciously acknowledged, well, it was time to stop lying to herself. “How does Emi know Kenji’s been a monk?”
“Not one but two women suddenly asked her if he was sick. It took a little careful questioning but she finally figured out it was because he was turning everyone down, even friends with whom he’d previously exchanged skin privileges.” Revel’s expression turned solemn. “So she started keeping an eye on him and it looks like Kenji’s been sleeping alone for a long time.”
Worry woke in Garnet, a sharp, biting beast. Changelings needed skin contact, needed physical connection. It fed their souls, soothed the animal that was part of their being. Without it, they could go into a deep depression, turn violently aggressive, or just start to lose emotional and mental cohesion. “Why didn’t Emi