Page 111 of The Blood Rites

“I let her go,” I blurt out. “I tried to save her, and I couldn’t.”

He narrows his eyes. “You held on longer than anyone else would.” There’s something harsh in his tone, but I don’t think it’s aimed at me. I think it’s aimed at all of this.

I look at his hand, warm and solid on my leg. His tattooed skin is unmarked and smooth. The uniform remembers what his body doesn’t.

“I just can’t accept that she wanted to die,” I say. “I saw the look in her eyes. It was fear.”

Kael lets out a slow exhale. “It was her choice, Luceris.”

I can’t look at him, so I stare past his head, at the seam where the wall meets the ceiling, golden cracks stubbornly spiderwebbing across the stone. It’s the only bright thing in this room right now.

Kael’s voice shifts lower, gentled only through effort. “You don’t have to be alone,” he says, and I almost break on it.

I’m hollowed out, but I don’t want him to leave.

He slides onto the floor beside me, his arm brushing mine. My cheeks heat.

Could he tell I wanted him to stay?

The contact feels too intimate, and my lungs tighten around it.

“You’re making me soft,” he says after a while.

He pauses.

“That gets people killed where I’m from. I hate myself for it.”

I look at him then, really look at him. He’s not joking. He’s not playing the careful predator. He is—afraid?

“Why?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

He stares straight ahead, eyes gone hard. “I don’t know. I just do.”

I want to reach for him, to press my face into the crook of his neck and breathe until I forget the room. I’m not sure what to do with the urge. I don’t deserve the comfort.

Kael solves the problem for me. He leans in until his lips brush my temple. The kiss is feather-light, barely anything, but it undoes me anyway.

I let myself lean into him, head dropped against his shoulder. He slides his arm behind my back, the weight of his hand grounding me. We stay like that for a long time, neither of us speaking. His breathing slows, matching mine.

When he eventually pulls away, it’s slow and careful, as if I might break under any sudden movement.

“Get some rest,” he says, but it’s a command.

He stands, running his hand through his hair. Before he leaves, he glances back at me. There’s something unsaid in his eyes. Something unfinished.

“I chose you,” he says, almost too quiet to hear.

Then he’s gone, and I am left with the echo of his words and the static of his touch.

The place where his arm held me still feels warm. I don’t understand why I miss it so quickly.

I look down at my hands. They’re shaking. Lyssandra is gone. But Marissa isn’t. Not yet. I feel like I’m betraying them both by needing him this much. But Kael can help me keep Marissa safe. I can’t do it on my own. The tremor turns to something other than fear.

Something like hope.

It’s Marissa’s face that finally pulls me out of myself after Kael leaves.

The last time I saw her, she was running. Then Serraith’s fireball struck, and she was gone. I need to see her, to known she’s okay. My heart aches, but the guilt eats at me more.