Page 144 of Heimlock

Kyrielle cringes, spreading her mouth wide in a comical grimace. “Uh, yeah. Right before I gave Huracio that scar.”

Pressing a loud smacking kiss to her forehead, I chuckle. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

“Don’t piss me off.”

I roll my eyes. “Did your mother know about Huracio?”

Kyrielle’s face transforms into a furious snarl. “My mother loved playing the victim, but I’m almost certain she did.”

“Why?”

“When I was fifteen, I tried to tell her what he was doing. She told me I was making it up and married him anyway.”

“I’m surprised you’ve let her live.” I’m half-joking, but after everything I’ve learned about her, I’m a little surprised.

“She has to live with herself,” Kyrielle says simply. “What a burden that must be, to know your daughter loathes you.”

Brushing one of her messy strands of hair from her face, I say, “It’s definitely her loss. Because her daughter turned out magnificent in spite of it all.”

Suddenly shy, Kyrielle looks away. I see her lower lip quiver. “Thank you.”

My heart expands from this moment of connection with her. It makes me want to know her even more. “I have a question.”

Her orange eyes find mine again. “What is it?”

After taking a moment to consider the merit of asking, I say, “Why do you have so many locks on all of your doors?”

Kyrielle lets out a whine, snuggles onto my chest, and kicks out dramatically with one foot. “Do I really have to answer?”

“Fair’s fair.”

She sighs. “Fine. It’s something I started when I moved in with Talia and Orliana. When I asked for a lock, she bought me one. After a nightmare, I would ask for a new one.” Her voice softens. “I guess I thought it would help lock out real and imaginary dangers.” Kyrielle huffs out a bitter laugh. “I could light up anyone dumb enough to break-in, but …” She taps her temple with a finger. “… it doesn’t fix what’s in here. I couldn’t lock my door as a kid, so now … every door is locked tight.”

The ache in my chest is almost unbearable. “If you want, I’ll go buy more locks.”

She cranes her head to look at me. “You would?”

“Of course. I’ll go right now, if you want me to.”

Her lower lip wobbles. More tears shimmer in those wildfire eyes. “Thank you.”

I hug her tighter, loving the way she fits in my arms. She looks on the edge of being well and truly upset, so I hope what I’m about to say cheers her up. “I have a surprise for you.”

The tears dry quickly. “You do?”

My heart races. What if she doesn’t like it? No, she’ll love it. “So I was talking to Fynn about when we went to the homeless shelter. And …”

I pause, building suspense on purpose. Unlike me, she likes surprises. She’s almost rattling with anticipation. “And …?”

“We’re starting a program to offer free Dragxi rides to people staying at the homeless shelter.”

She stares at me, expression blank. When she says nothing, I crack a nervous smile. “Yeah, so they will get special identification, so when they call in, the ride is entirely free.”

Kyrielle stares and stares. My heart races and my stomach churns. She hates it. That expression, or lack thereof, means I’ve done too much. Taken it too far. I’ve ruined something again.

Panicking, I rush out to say that I’m sorry, that I wasn’t trying to upset her. “Kyrielle, I—”

“I’m so deeply, completely in love with you.”