Page 39 of The Silent
“I… Hello,” she stammered. “I didn’t knowyouwere—”
“I have feelings for you,” Leo said without preamble. “Strongfeelings.”
Her mouth fell open, but no wordscameout.
“I would like to talk about this,” Leo continued. “Can wedothat?”
Kyra had been raised in secrecy. Truth was suppressed and hidden. Thoughts were kept to oneself. If feelings existed, they were expressed in furtive glances and whispers. The goal of her life had been to remain as small as possible, as insignificant as she could be.Invisible.
Silent.
Leo’s desire to speak openly about his feelings was both thrilling and terrifying. Everything about Leo was both thrilling andterrifying.
He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his voice. “Kyra,please.”
“I don’t know how…,” she started—cleared her throat—continued in a firmer voice. “Idon’tknow—”
“We have known each other for several years,” he said. “Every time I see you, this attraction—which is not merely physical—grows. Iwant, Kyra. I want to know you. I want to see you. I want more every time we’re together, andyetyou—”
“You need to let me speak,” Kyra saidquietly.
Leo opened his mouth again. Then closed it. He nodded, then led her to the low cushions in the corner of the cottage where a small table sat. There were bolstered wedges and pillows for sitting and eating. He arranged the cushions carefully, side by side, then paused. He looked at her, then at the room. She saw him evaluating it with the eyes of a soldier, noting the layout, the doors and windows. Then he bent over and rearranged the cushions, putting them at an angle so both their backs were againstthewall.
Kyra realized Leo had rearranged the pillows so that both of them had equal access tothedoor.
To make herfeelsafe.
“I’ve never felt unsafe with you.” She had to force the words through her mouth. Every word felt like strippingoffskin.
He paused. “Even at thebeginning?”
“No. Just… cautious. You weresomethingnew.”
He led her to the cushions and waited for her to sit. Then he sat on the other side, folding his long legsunderhim.
“I’m very large,” he said. “Damien says if I’m not thinking about it, I mow through a room like anenthusiastictank.”
Kyra smiled. “I’ve never feltmoweddown.”
“I’mglad.”
Kyra felt like her heart must be audible. They were alone. Utterly alone. She heard nothing from the outside, could hear only faint signatures from deeper in the forest.Be brave.It had been her mantra for the past three years. If she could survive among the Grigori and the Fallen, she could surviveanything.
Bebrave.
“When I was young,” she started, “scribes were things to fear. Our brothers would go out and not come back. We knew the scribes hadkilledthem.”
“Whoiswe?”
“My other sisters.” She pushed past the feeling of exposure. These weren’t secrets anymore. Telling these stories wasn’t a betrayal. They were her past, not her present. “There were never many of us. The daughters. I wasn’t close to the others, not as I am withKostas.”
“But you were afraid ofscribes?”
“I was. Kostas wasn’t. He knew what his brothers were—what he was. If he hadn’t had me, I imagine he would have let your brothers kill him long ago. But… he did have me. And theothers.”
“He stays aliveforthem?”
“I think so.” Kyra stared at the swaying palms outside her window. They caught the breeze, waving at her in encouragement. “When Kostas and I thought we were free, he worked so hard. He tied himself in knots just to be…” She looked at Leo. “Like you, Isuppose.”
