Page 76 of Keldori By Daybreak

I took a deep breath and focused on the stone wall ahead.

“Like a blanket over a fire,” I repeated, remembering the beach bonfire I’d sat side-by-side with Liam at. I tried to imagine standing up from the driftwood log where we’d sat and putting a heavy, wool blanket over dying embers, and then blinked.

When I opened my eyes, Ciarán was harder to see through the steam. The ambient light that had lit the water and fog in hues of blue was gone, and I rubbed my eyes with my free hand.

“Are they better?” I blinked at Ciarán. It may have been darker now, but I could still make out Liam’s eyes staring back at me.

“‘Better’ is relative,” he smiled, “but they’re back to how they were before if that’s what you mean.”

I sighed and sank back against the stone, relieved to not be stuck with black sclera forever.

“Thank you.” I realized I was no longer healing him despite my hand still pressing against his skin, and I went back to work, building the matrix in the cracks of his bones like Sorcha had explained.

He let me work in dark silence for a moment, but then—

“What memory did you see?” he asked. “When you were the real me.”

“Not a good one.”

“Most of them aren’t, so which one was it? I would like to know what part of me you were spying on.”

“It was the morning my mom went to your village and told you about your parents.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to intrude, Wren.” His thumb rubbed against the back of my hand under the water. “It’s okay.”

“I mean I’m sorry about your family.”

“It’s not your fault.” His gentle chuckle only made me feel worse.

“It kind of is. They died because they were sworn to my family. And now you’re stuck with me, but that’s not something you signed up for.”

He pried my hand away from his side to wrap his fingers around my palm.

“Do you think I regret becoming a Grimguard because of you?” he asked.

“Sabrina did.”

“I’m not Sabrina.” His fingers tightened around mine, and he lifted our hands between us so they were half-submerged at the surface of the water. Something about our bare knuckles entwined there made me feel more exposed than our mental connection ever had. “And if I weren’t a Grimguard, I’d still be here. With you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I’ve spent two months in your head. There’s no one else I’d rather serve.”

I stared back, waiting for the serious set of his brow to give way to the smug grin I knew he had to be holding back. He had to be teasing me.

His face, however, remained fixed.

“You look just like him, you know,” I breathed.

“No, I don’t. I remember that much.”

“You do. Your eyes. They’re exactly the same.”

I didn’t remember leaning in, but somehow I was closer than before, taking in his amber, unlit irises, the cut of his nose and chin, the strands of steam-soaked black hair that hung loose around his face…