Hearts of Stone

12. Power and its Uses

Knowledge was power and Kat had no idea what to do with hers.

Cage was not a wolf-man, not a beast. And because of that, she was grateful she now had a name to associate with him, no matter how peculiar it was.

She could remember him mentioning that he was a cage. Maybe it was from that which his name stemmed. But coming to terms with what she had seen gave birth to a new complication she had not anticipated.

If being half-man, half-wolf wasn't his curse... Then what was? Why was he alone in a dusty castle, wearing a dead wolf head?

Why would fearing or hating him keep her safe? And why couldn't she get his words out of her head?

Her beauty is the least impressive thing about her, and that's saying something.

Encouraged by his rudeness, she had damned social graces as well and spoke her mind most of the time. It was not ladylike, unpleasant, wrong. Morally corrupt.

And yet, he seemed to like her precisely for her temper, for her mind. Even for her naiveté. Why?

The thought plagued her as she twisted and turned all night, curiosity and shame for breaking his trust battling inside her. Once the morning came, she had no conclusion, just a head filled with wildest dreams about what his face could look like.

Determined to keep her head clear and come up with an appropriate way to use this new information, she focused on cleaning for the first part of the day.

He said she was safest away from him, so it was obvious that she had to leave. But he wouldn't let her because he was an infuriating paradox, so she had to make him. If Joey's word were to be trusted, this loophole Cage had mentioned was dangerous. And the danger most definitely didn't explain why she felt a fluttering in her stomach every time she thought his name.

It was so hard not to come forward and ask Joey about it, but she was convinced that, as friendly and as open as he was, Joey would not appreciate eavesdropping.

But there were so many questions and no answers and it was driving her insane. Having dinner with him felt impossible. She couldn't even look at him, afraid he would see the truth in her eyes, get her to somehow blurt out what she'd done and punish her for it.

"You're awfully quiet," he noted halfway through the evening's meal.

"I'm a little indisposed," she supplied, twirling tonight's selection of wine around her glass.

"Hey." His voice was softer than she'd ever heard it, at least directed at her. "If something is wrong, you can tell me." He even leaned inside the circle of light and she could get a good look at him. "Don't lock yourself up again. I don't enjoy breaking down doors. Or fixing them, for that matter."

From the white, empty eyes and immobile jaw, how could she not realize this sooner? She'd thought it was the curse. That, and him insisting that she not look had hindered her enough to make her blind to the obvious. That head was dead.

"Kat?"

"I'm sorry," she said, her words tumbling out. She caught herself before she said more.

"What for?" Suspicion sank into his voice. "What did you do?"

Betrayed your trust and found your secret. But she just shrugged, aware that saying the words out loud would not be considered a refreshing break from the norms. As he continued watching her, an idea presented itself, so brilliant in its simplicity.

There was more to his mystery than just the mask. He'd said he liked her, a declaration he didn't know she'd overheard. So, just as she had considered to use this information to determine him to let her go, maybe she could make him take off the mask. Then she could ask all the questions she wanted without fear of repercussions. It shouldn't be too hard. Men usually turned exceptionally stupid when she decided to show them any form of affection.