My heart squeezed in my chest when he bent his huge body to settle me in the middle of the pile of cushions, a squishy pink animal tumbling into my lap. I picked it up and hugged it to my chest, overwhelmed and hurting in a good way. It felt incredible to have something as big as this done for me, but it was confusing as hell.
"Why me?" I asked, peering up at Sang with stinging eyes, the shadowkind kneeling in front of me but huge enough that he still towered. "I don't understand why you'd do this for me. Don't you want a human who's not..." I flapped my hands. "Broken?"
A furrow creased Sang's brow between sad yellow eyes. "No. Why would I want a boring, unbroken human? You're all cracked and jagged like me."
He dipped his body at the same time his big hand cradled my jaw, claws careful not to cut, and my breath hitched at the soft, fervent kiss he pressed to my lips.
"I like you," he said baldly. "You killed Mav, so you like blood and screams like I do. And you're so colourful." He caressed a claw through my wavy silver hair. "You don't watch me like I'm a ticking time bomb, or look at me like I'm crazy."
"But you are crazy," I said with a choked laugh, relaxing into the cushions.
Sang rolled his yellow eyes, his mouth twitching into a smile. "Well, duhhh. But it doesn't feel like a bad thing when you look at me like that."
I turned over the plushie in my hands. "Like what?"
"Like I've done something good, and surprised you. Like you want to spend time with me, and I'm not annoying you or the sight of me doesn't make you sick or—"
"Sang," I cut off softly, my heart squeezing for an altogether new reason. I reached up and curled my fingers around his wrist.1"Why would looking at you make me sick?"
His throat bobbed, and Sang hunched over in front of me, dropping his hands from my face into his own lap. Like that, he really did look broken—forlorn and unhappy. So even though my heart raced and nerves tangled in my belly, I climbed onto his lap and hugged him.
"You don't make me sick, or annoy me," I assured him gently, stroking my hand up his wide back and feeling the muscles shift in response. "I promise. You scared me at first, but that's because you had me chained up and then picked up a scalpel."
"I only wanted to hurt you a little so you'd talk about the locket," he said miserably, hunching further into himself.
Ah, crap, I was making this all worse.
"But since then you haven't scared me. You seem to … like me?" He nodded, so I went on more confidently. "You're like a cute puppy."
His head snapped up, his furry ears pressing flat to his head. "Kitty," he corrected firmly.
I couldn't hold back a laugh. "Sorry, Cheshire Cat. Yeah, I meant kitty."
He preened at the nickname, so I went on, "I'm not used to people liking me or being nice to me. And you're funny, and cute, and really sweet." I ducked my head and added, "It's nice when you touch me so much. It makes me feel … safe."
Before I even finished, Sang's arms had come up to wrap around me, and he held me so tight that my muscles went lax, and I melted against his chest.
"The people in the inn were scared of me," he said quietly. "Did you notice?"
"Maybe because you clawed that guy's face off?" I suggested, covering a smile at the memory. Sure, it had been gruesome and made me queasy, but he'd done that to keep me safe, and then threatened to hurt anyone else who tried to touch me. It was a heady feeling.
Sang shook his head. "No, before that. When they saw me, some people tried to run away. But I stood in the door, so that was pointless."
A dry note entered his voice, making me smile. I reached up to trace where his horns met his skull, parting his shaggy hair and spiralling tall. "I didn't notice. I was too focused on the pincer mon—shadowkind."
Sang huffed a breathy laugh, stirring my hair and making me shiver. "You can call us monsters, sweet human. It doesn't offend. It's true, for me, Void, and Mav especially. I…"
He seemed to be struggling, but wanted to talk about this, so I ran my fingers through his hair, offering silent comfort, not rushing him to speak.
"I used to be an assassin."
I jolted, and Sang interpreted my reaction all wrong, hunching again and averting his eyes until I whispered, "Me too. Did you, um, hear what the monsters said in the pub about me? Mav isn't the only one I've killed."
I cleared my throat, my face hot. "I was … I was trained to do that. So I … I hurt a lot of people."
Sang looked up at me through his lashes, his slit-pupiled eyes wide and sad, making my heart pang. "Me, too," he said, echoing my own words. "A lot. My owner was … a very bad man. He made me kill a lot of people—shadowkind, humans, anyone. And I was good at it—it's kinda fun to see people go splat on your horns. You get a really good view, a detailed close-up."
I smiled at the enthusiasm bubbling out of his voice, but my heart sank when his eyes shadowed again.