“Like fuck we’re leaving you when Zeek’s like this, Red.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”I meet Sai’s eyes.“Can you get there?”
“Yes. We can sense Kane—just enough,”Julien says.“But Ezekial isn’t grounded. One of us will stay—”
“No.”I shake my head, and Ezekial’s hold becomes almost suffocating. “I can deal with him. I need you two with Kane.”
“I am not fucking leaving you with him.”In Sai’s determined words, there’s a hint of fear. Then he repeats to Julien, “I’m not leaving her.”
I immediately soften.“You didn’t want me near Julien once. You were scared he’d hurt me.”Sai clenches his jaw, because he knows I’m right.“Now I need you to trust me. I am safe with Ezekial.”
“Jasmine… this isn’t the Ezekial you know,”Julien asserts, his concern just as clear.
“Then I will get to know him.”I look from Julien to Sai. Not a glare, just a firm,steady gaze.“Trust me.”
Sai snarls, eyes darting over my face, then he glares at Julien. But he simply nods.
“No,”Sai snarls in protest, blinding gaze back on me. “Baby, I can’t—”
“Go,”I order, voice sharp.“Go get Kane. Bring him back. You want my full forgiveness? Then show me. Show me you trust me. That you respect my words. My choices. Do this for me.”
I know it isn’t fair to give them an ultimatum like this, but I need them to find Kane, to know he’s safe from whatever has made Ezekial feel like… this.
“Please.”My voice breaks, softening as the dread creeps into it, and Sai’s determined expression falters. “I can do this, but I need to know Kane’s safe. Trust me.”
There’s a pause in which they both stare at me, until Julien says,“If anything happens, call to us. No matter how small.Anything.”
I nod, but they don’t move, they just keep staring, soaking me in.
But then, with a cut-off curse from Sai and a final pleading look my way, the shadows expand.
And they’re gone.
Ezekial still doesn’t move. I thought maybe once they left, he’d do something.But he just holds me.
So I start small, easing the terror from him slowly, unwinding it like thread. Piece by piece.
After several long minutes, his hold only tightens.
I swallow, thinking of a new tactic. “Can you loosen your arms a little bit?” I start to squirm. “Starting to feel... a tad… claustrophobic.”
He flinches, and his grip relaxes just enough that I can lean back slightly. I keep my fingers hooked around his neck, ready to hold my own weight in case he lets go.
But now, eye-to-eye withthisEzekial, I realise he won’t let me go. Not with the possessive hunger in his inky gaze.
“Hi,” I say, soft, quiet.
He blinks.
He seems content to simply hold me, so I study him for clues of his distress, noticing his face is speckled with something dark… and so is his neck, his chest plate, his arms. His t-shirt is worse, spreading through the fabric like…
Blood.
I search him frantically, hands and slivers tracing his sides, searching any part I can reach for injuries. I unclench mylegs, shifting on his lap to check lower—he leans in, and I still. Slowly, he presses his blood-smeared forehead against mine.
And then he breathes.
I sit there, frozen, hands resting at his waist, eyes wide as I watch him inhale deeply.
