Page 106 of Dark Night of the Soul

A girl’s face—warmth, laughter—and the moment the Brotherhood’s violence took her, something in him went cold.

The boy died. The warrior took his place.

And it cut me to the bone.

His birth name whispered into my mind. A name he’d buried with the girl he loved. A name he shared with no one.

A name he wanted me to know without saying it.

Like giving me the key and trusting I’d never turn it.

I shifted, moved on top of him and met his blazing eyes. And for a second his steely guard flickered back into place.

“I see you,” I said softly.

The words settled between us like a promise.

His eyes closed. When he opened them again, the wariness was gone. What remained was quiet certainty. His hand brushed down my cheek.

“I chose you.”

And I knew—knew—he always would.

Chapter 33 | Kincade

She was still sleeping when dawn broke. Curled against me. Her head on my chest. The steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed deep. Like she’d found some semblance of peace.

I didn’t move. Didn’t close my eyes. Couldn’t.

My hand moved through her hair. Slow, careful, memorizing the feel of it. She’d fought so hard. Pushed through pain and programming to choose this. Choose me.

Last night hadn’t been about desire. It had been about trust. About how close she could come to the edge without falling and how willing I was to follow if she did.

She’d torn down walls I’d spent centuries building. Seen parts of me I’d buried with the dead.

I see you. She accepted the truth—my truth—and accepted me, anyway.

Cashiel’s words surfaced unbidden. Be the man she chose. Not the warrior standing guard.

I’d spent lifetimes confusing the two. Hiding behind duty. Calling vigilance love.

Last night, she hadn’t needed a protector. She’d needed me—present, unarmed, unshielded.

And she’d given me everything—trust, vulnerability, choice. I’d given her the only thing I had left to give. The truth of what I’d lost. What she meant by comparison.

I’d given her my name. The real one. You don’t hand that over unless you’re ready to be found.

She needed to know. Not who I was now, but what it had taken to make me this. What losing her would do to me again.

Outside, the world came alive again. The gray light of morning pressed against the curtains of the one window. And soon, the quiet would be gone.

Next to me, she stirred. Coming awake. Then seemed to realize where she was and rolled to her side of the bed. Leaving a void where she’d been.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked, voice still thick with sleep.

“A while.” All night.

Her sleepy-eyed gaze drifted to my chest. “I slept there all night?”