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“No, it wasn’t.” Kane removes his boots, tossing them to the corner of the room. “I’ve been waiting for it to hit you.”
“You have?”
“That city is poison, honey. It left its mark on you.” He turns to me after I finish pulling the nightgown over my head. “Even when you’re released from the cage, a part of you stays. Still trapped. Still begging for someone to let you out.”
I gulp. “Is that how you feel? Like you’re still in the thirteenth room?”
He thinks on this. Turns to me on his elbow as he gets comfortable under the layers of fur.
“I was never a prisoner of that room. Dessin was. A few others got to see the inside of those walls for a short time, but that was Dessin’s prison. His trauma to bear.”
“Then what was yours?”
“My memories,” he admits. “My regrets. My guilt.” His left fist clenches.
I nod, sliding into the bed next to him. My eyes are still swollen and raw from wailing like a child in the dining hall. All of those people witnessed my breakdown. Yet, they were so gracious, so understanding.
“Can I ask you something?” Kane exhales.
I mirror his position, propping myself up on one elbow to face him.
“Why did you stay with him? You stayed in that city, eating like a small rodent, obeying orders like a dog. Accepting Aurick’s misogynistic behavior.” He shakes his head as if to rid himself of searing anger for that last part. “You could have run.”
I could have. But I made a promise.
“I couldn’t tell Dessin the truth when he asked this before, because if he knew the truth, he would have been furious.” The look in his eyes when he learned that Aurick hit me. “If I left, I wouldn’t have been able to help him or you. If I left, I wouldn’t have been able to fulfill Scarlett’s dying wish. Without Aurick, I had nowhere to live. I would have accepted any form of abuse from him or anyone else just to stay close to Dessin.”
Kane’s shoulders deflate as if hearing that truth was harder to hear than he imagined.
“You’re right.” He blows out a breath. “Dessin would have raised hell.”
“Now it’s your turn to answer one of my questions. When Dessin fought the men from Demechnef in his room, why did he need to stab the man after he was already dead? The man with the sickle… he stabbed him three times with a rusted knife.”
Kane raises his brows and looks away like that’s a loaded question.
“It’s a compulsion.” He shrugs. “That sickle took three lives the day he came into existence. And that old knife is the last gift my father gave to me, to protect myself. It’s just something he needs to do when he sees that weapon.”
Nausea coats my stomach. And chills, like tiny spiders, crawl down my back. I nod at him, attempting to hide my horror.
“Do you like him? Dessin, I mean. I know you have to live with him, in a way, but do you actually like him?”
Kane laughs at this. “I don’t always agree with his methods, but Dessin is a brother to me. He was there to fight for me on one of the worst days of my life, and he’ll be there until the day I die.” A cloud of sadness passes over his eyes. “He’s taken beatings for me, taken demonic forms of abuse, and done so with a smile. He does it all to protect my sanity.”
I smile. The warmth of their bond spreading across my chest.
“I have another question,” Kane says quietly.
I arch an eyebrow at him.
“Can I hold you tonight?” he whispers. “After seeing you cry earlier… it’s something I need to do. Please.”
My chest aches. “Of course you can hold me.”
I turn my back to him, wiggling backward until I’m firmly pressed against his chest. His iron arms loop around my shoulders and waist, pulling me even closer until his lips graze my hair, dropping soft kisses. And they’re slow, meaningful, full of secrets, agony, and a need to be as close to me as possible. And with each kiss, my heart throbs like an unhealed wound. Tears gather in my eyes as I try to swallow them down. But these slow kisses weigh me down like anchors in a storm.
Please, don’t ever leave me, Kane.
I need you.
