“That’s my line.” He lifted his head and smothered a yawn. “I’m good.”
I grabbed a pair of breeches from the wardrobe and dropped them on a nearby chest. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah.”
“Bullshit.”
“Glass houses, man.” Kieran twisted at the waist, looking back at Poppy. “Every time I look at her, I think this will be it. The moment she opens her eyes.”
Rubbing the heel of my palm over my chest, right next to the bone-dagger scar, I glanced over my shoulder at him. Worry carved deep lines across his forehead and pooled like too-thick custard in my throat.
I tugged the towel from my waist and tossed it and the smaller one into the bathing chamber. Since I began to sense emotions, I’d learned that Kieran was particularly good at shielding his. Not that I hadn’t already known that. His composed and calm demeanor was a mask at times. Not often. Not as much as it once was for me, but it was rare to hear uncertainty in his words and not only feel his distress but also see it etched into his features.
He was going through the same turmoil I was. But I didn’t want my emotions to add to his already heavy load. It was difficult to push my concerns down when I was so worried, but Kieran had always been there for me. And right now, he needed me. So, I got myself together for Kieran’s sake.
“She’ll wake up. I know she will,” I said, grabbing the breeches.
“I know.” He turned his head to me. “It’s just that… Her skin, Cas. It’s so damn cold.”
I didn’t let myself think about that as I stepped into the breeches. Yanking them up, I turned to him. “She’ll need to feed. A lot.”
“Emil is on standby for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m curious why it has to be him when others are available.”
“Because it amuses me.”
“Asshole,” I muttered.
Kieran flashed a grin, but it faded quickly. His attention shifted back to Poppy. I walked to the other side of the bed and sat, brushing a wayward strand of hair off her cheek. I lifted my gaze to Kieran and could tell he was lost somewhere in his head.
“What if…?” Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes. “What if she doesn’t remember?”
Fuck. Hearing him ask the question on repeat in my mind was like taking a punch to the chest.
“If she doesn’t, then we’ll help her remember.” Leaning across Poppy, I clasped the back of his neck. “It’ll be hard on both of us. Harder on you, I think.”
He raised his head. “That’s not true. I know it would nearly kill you, Cas.”
“And that’s why it would be harder on you.” I squeezed his nape. “Because you won’t only be thinking about Poppy. You’ll be worried about me and how I’ll handle it.”
Kieran couldn’t deny that.
“Here’s the thing, Kieran. Itwouldfeel like I was dying, but I won’t lose my shit. Not when I need to be there for her.” I dropped my hand to his shoulder. “And we’llbothbe there for her. Together. We’ll help her remember.”
He inhaled slowly and then nodded. “Yeah, we will.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “So, have you found quarters that will be a good fit for us to move to?” I asked, seeking to distract him.
“Still looking,” he said, his thumb smoothing over the delicate bone of her wrist. “Anything in particular I should look for?”
“Anyplace that wasn’t Isbeth’s personal quarters.”
He tilted his head back, his expression bland except for a faint quirk of his brow. “Yeah, I figured that already.”
I leaned back against the headboard. “Just making sure.”
“Uh-huh.” He drew a leg up. “You going to tell me what you discussed with Reaver?”
