“Mom, this is Reese.”
Her eyes settle on me, kind and warm. Observant. It’s the gaze of a mother who loves her son unconditionally, and I suddenly understand how Cason gets away with everything.
“It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Reese.”
I nod politely. “You too.”
She closes the distance between us and hugs me. I freeze for half a second in shock, and then I return her embrace. It’s one of the most comforting ones I’ve felt in a very long time.
“Thank you for making my son happy,” she whispers.
I look over at Cason whose eyes are looking a little wet again, and I feel a stinging pressure behind my own eyes.
“He makes me the happiest I’ve ever been,” I tell her honestly.
“Good.” She pulls back and smiles at me. “Then I know you’ll take care of him.”
“I will.”
It’s the most certain I’ve ever been about anything in my life. Because of all the promises I’ve ever made, all the vows and missions and contracts and lies, that one is the easiest.
I glance at Cason again. At his green hair, ridiculous shirt, bright eyes. He’s alive and happy.Mine.
And now, standing beneath the rebuilt heart of the Institute, surrounded by the people we fought and bled and survived for, I know that’s what I’m going to do for the rest of my life. Take care of Cason Bellrose.
Maybe Malcolm saw it in a hundred futures. Maybe he saw it in a thousand. But the thing is, I don’t care what was fate and what was choice.
I would choose him every single time.
Six months later.
“CASON!”
Well, shit.
That is not anI missed youCason or anI want youCason. That’s a…
“What the fuck is this?”Cason.
That’s what Reese says the moment I step into the bathroom that he called me from. He points toward the shower, and I follow where his finger aims. I grimace.
Okay, so I might’ve forgotten to put away the dildo I used this morning. It’s hot pink and suctioned to the wall of the shower, jutting out like yet another accusing finger. It’salmostas big as Reese but not quite.
“It’s uh…a stress-relief device.”
Not exactly a lie…
Reese just continues staring, arching a brow.
“In my defense,” I mutter, looking anywhere but at him now, “you were just gone for three days.”
Reese still does what he’s always done since he Ascended—tracking down other Ascended. Only now, he’s doing it for the Instituteandto help them. They’re offered answers as to what’s happening with them, jobs, resources, pretty much whatever they need.
Unless he feels like theyarea threat. Because even though Malcolm never gave any of them a chance to prove otherwise, thereareAscended who are too powerful to let stay out there on their own.
Fortunately, that’s rare.
We arenotas bad as Malcolm. But wearecautious.
