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And how do I know if that’s even possible? Can I escape the absolute essence of my DNA? The stuff that’s stitched into every seam of my being?
“Kara?”
The syllables are a distant warble in my senses. I shake my head, battling dizziness and nausea. I feel myself stumble, not knowing which way is up.
“Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I look up, identifying Kell as the source. “I’m not upset.”
But my sincerity doesn’t serve the words. They spew out with much different intention, accompanied by a throb in my head and timpani in my stomach.
“Ah…whoa.”
Jaden jerks back in his chair as if Kell and I have decked him. “What was that?” he demands, only to be checked by Kell’s sharp glare.
“What was what? You mean the sound of you not helping your stressed-out sisters?”
“No. I—I mean, yeah. Sorry.” He rushes to pull out chairs for both of us, but his actions seem rote, like he’s doing it out of physical habit instead of mental care. His gaze wanders, searching the neighboring buildings like they’re harboring snipers. “Seriously…neither of you heard that?”
Kell huffs. “Can you be a little more specific? Thatwhat?”
“It was like…it was in the damn room…”
“Hold up.Thisroom?” I manage to stammer, though swinging around with an alarmed gaze only earns my equilibrium another whomping roil. A friendly neurological tidal wave joins it, meaning all I hear of Jaden’s troubled mutters are hollow warbles and dark vibrations. “Ohhh…no,” I groan out. “Ohhh…wow.”
“You okay?” Kell mutters. “Come on. Sit down.”
I acquiesce but only for a second. “Oh God.” I get up, bracing my head with both hands. “That’s worse. So much worse.”
“What’s wrong?” she pleads. “Can we get you anything? What do you need?”
I kick at the floor and anxiously twine my fingers. “Maximus,” I finally rasp, trying but failing to hide my emotions. My whole being buzzes with this yearning for him. This need. It’s turned into a visceral thing. It’s an unfed hunger in my belly. An unassuaged ache in my bones. A restlessness that crawls through me like another creature, unmerciful even after I stomp out a bunch of laps between the living room and kitchen.
“Maximus,” I blurt again. “I need…him.”
Jaden finally jolts from his strange stupor and snaps his head around. “Why don’t you try calling him again?” he suggests. “What’s the worst that could happen? More voicemail?”
I force back another terse answer. Voicemail isn’t the worst option on that list. What if Maximus did answer, only to tell me he’s someplace awful and painful? That he didn’t leave Iremia willingly, and he’s been captured or kidnapped? That something or someone beyond my rationale has gotten to him and is torturing him worse than Hades’s hell soldiers?
I shudder without thinking. Or control. But I can’t rule out the disgusting possibilities. I can’t ignore the fear, now as much a part of me as instinct, whenever I know he’s not near.
Until, suddenly, he is.
And the nausea recedes. And my head is righted. And my soul is bathed in a new flood of strength. Of courage. Of the pure, perfect fire that only he can bring.
That I rush for now, bursting with a laugh as I bounce back a reply to my brother.
“Screw the voicemail.”
For that matter, screw everything else.
The post-hell trauma dreams. The fears about all the new rabbit holes of my life, big and small. The insecurities. The confusions. The worries about my family and their futures. Even the fuzzy picture of what my own destiny will be.
All I need to know about destiny is in front of me again. The man I’m wrapped around again. The tawny beard that scratches my neck and the warm breath that soothes my nape. The low growl that crosses the bridge to my soul, speaks to my spirit, and reaffirms everything I am.
His.
Today and now.
