Kane flits over then, his dark gaze sweeping us all. “She’s ours. Nothing will harm her. Nothing will take her.”
No one adds to Kane’s words. No one disagrees. Because even though it might sound delusional, like madness—we mean it.
Even Death will kneel, if it dares come for her.
“Still think she’s a threat?” Sai’s cunning smirk and smiling eyes latch onto Kane.
He doesn’t respond. The shadows don’t even flicker. But his gaze never leaves her.
“Yes,” Kane says, surprising us all, “To anyone who thinks they can touch her and live. To anything that dares come between us and her.” His eyes flash darker, bleeding into his sclera. “I’ve done unforgivable things, slaughtered thousands, and I’ll do worse for her.”
The fire cracks in the distance, the only sound breaking the sacred silence we all hold.
Kane remains stood, staring down at Jasmine as his eyes fade back into that soft grey I never thought the demon capable of.
We’ve all said it now, in our own way, admitted what we already knew.
We’re past wanting her.
Past needing.
I trace the knuckles of her hand with my thumb. “I won’t lose her. Not to death, or time, nor the monsters haunting her past.”
“We could’ve had that time with her,” Sai murmurs. “A hundred years she might’ve been with them, who knows what they did…” He bites off his words, shaking away his darkness we all feel rising.
None of us can imagine it. It’s too dangerous.
If she was with the Order all that time, if they kept her from us, made her into what she is by inflicting harm, the fact she can meld minds…
“If they took her from us.” Kane doesn’t look at us—just her. “We’ll take everything from them.”
She stirs then, murmuring softly in her sleep. I lift the cover higher over her bare shoulder, and she nuzzles closer into me.
And for the first time in centuries, I pray to the Goddesses.
Let this last. Let her stay. Let her be ours.
Ou brûlons avec elle.
Chapter 62: Jasmine
It’s early. There’s that strange, in-between hush where night hasn’t quite let go, and morning hasn’t yet taken over. I’m not sure what wakes me. The quiet rustle of movement, the brush of fingers against my arm, but when I open my eyes, the room is bathed in soft grey.
A moment caught in limbo.
Then a soothing chill sinks into my skin, my cheek nestled against a familiar chest.
“You’re awake?” Kane’s voice is as soft as the shadows skirting the room.
“What time is it?” I rasp.
“Early.” He shifts, lowering himself enough that his chin rests upon the crown of my head. “You’ve only slept a few hours. You’re recovering faster now. Your body’s adapting.”
I hum, still not fully awake, letting the hush of Kane’s voice and his delicate touches lull me.
“We want to show you something.”
I frown at his strange and sudden request, pulling back to peer up at him, chin against his chest.
