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“I missed you, honey,” Kane says with the sweetest smile in the whole world.
A desperate whimper bursts from my lips as I throw my arms around Kane’s neck, careful not to touch his wounded back. He hesitates, his arms hovering over my back, quickly realizing he can’t hug me the way he wants to. Kane settles for placing his hands on the unharmed skin at my waist.
I cry against his shoulder like a small child. “What’re you doing here?”
Our friends stop talking among themselves as they try to understand my sudden outburst.
“I heard you cry,” he murmurs against my hair. The heaviness in his voice strikes a nerve deep in my bones. A memory that used to be thin as smoke, now cold iron in my hands.
When we were young, Kane hated hearing me cry. He never said as much, but there were times that I had a bloody nose or a broken arm, and he’d pull me from the basement. I’d throw my arms around his neck and burst into a flood of tears, bawling against him in both relief and devastation. He’d hold me fiercely, stroking my long hair, telling me that I was safe.
I thought he was as immovable as stone. A strong, unbendable force. But one day, he had to step inside the basement because I wouldn’t leave the corner I was planted in. It was then that he held me, and he shivered. In the reflection of two mirrors, I saw that he was in tears. Shuddering as he soothed away my demons.
And it’s in the storm brewing beneath those coffee-colored eyes, the way his massive shoulders slump forward, the damp heat permeating from his hands.
Kane still hates to hear me cry.
I weep harder, my tears dripping down his chest.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been here,” he rasps unevenly.
“It’s okay,” I whimper. “You’re here now.”
Kane pushes me an inch away from our embrace, cupping my face like I’m a breakable little doll. A fragile treasure he wants to keep safe from the rest of the world.
“I can’t stay long.” The long line of his throat ripples. “I told you I had a bad feeling before we left for the ship.”
I take my hands off his shoulders to wipe my eyes, soothe the puffiness in my cheeks.
“You were right,” I mutter sadly.
If we never came here, I wouldn’t be separated from DaiSzek or Knightingale. Chekiss wouldn’t be worrying himself sick. I’d get to see Kane all the time.
“I have another bad feeling, honey,” he warns, planting a small tickle of uneasiness in my stomach.
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm. We need to get out of here.” The cords in his neck pull taut, and as his jaw hardens, I can see he’s grinding his teeth.
I let out an exasperated breath.
Kane takes a hesitant look around. “I can’t stay long,” he repeats.
Tears rush back to the surface as I comprehend saying goodbye right now. I feel like a little girl all over again, watching Young Kane close the secret basement door, shutting me back into the cold darkness. I used to wave to him as I bawled loudly, hiccuping in uncontrollable gasps for air. I knew it broke his heart to leave me, too.
“Dance with me before I go?” he asks with his forehead pressed to mine.
“Okay,” I sigh, rising to my feet, not caring if anyone thinks we’re nuts for this.
Kane places a warm, large hand on my waist and reaches for my right hand. He rests his chin on the top of my head as I snuggle into his chest. We sway in silence.
“As old as night, was it a star that was split from shining too bright?”
I peek over Kane’s shoulder to see Warrose closing his eyes, singing for us. A rugged harmony building into a haunting rhythm. Warmth that can only be summoned by the love of family spreads from my scalp to the tips of my toes.
“Oh, heaven’s sweetest answer. Oh, heaven’s greatest treasure. Come to me, my soaring mate, for I have no wings to reach you. We were made to follow fate, not even the devil could undo.” Warrose’s voice carries, raspy, deep, and soulful. The notes shift through him, settling a lull over all of us.
I close my eyes against Kane’s chest, breathing in sweet memories that radiate from his skin onto mine. Bathing in the Red Oaks lagoon. Climbing trees. Chasing DaiSzek. Sleeping under the stars.
