“This is yours too,” Ezekial says softly, not taking the tablet back.
I run my fingers over the sleek screen. It’s smaller and lighter than his usual one, but when I turn it over, my breath catches.
Two letters are slightly raised in the centre, etched with a slight gloss.
JN.
My initials.
I’ve never had initials. Never had something marked as mine. And now it’s engraved—in glass, in stars.
Even the sky knows who I am.
“It’s notquitea constellation, though, is it mate?” Sai mutters with a teasing twist.
“Do you even know how to spell constellation?” Zeek shoots back.
The corner of my mouth lifts, but I don’t laugh. Because I’m too full. Toostunned.
I turn in place, taking it all in again. The warmth, the light, the dark corners. Even the space outside.
You couldn’t call it a room. More like an entire floor.
The bedroom. The bathroom. The wardrobe. The outside.
Then all the smaller elements. The flickering candles, the books, the plants, the painting.
Even the fabrics, down to every hue, every texture, every thread.… every corner speaks.
Julien’s elegance. Kane’s quiet strength. Zeek’s precision. Sai’s soul.
I feel them in all of it. Every choice. Every breath of this room says the same thing. It’s crystal clear.
They see me.
They hear me.
And then I see it. A soft curl of shadow near the far wall, and beside that—Kane.
Hands in his pockets, eyes dark, expression unreadable.
“You’ve seen him before,” he says eventually, glancing at the sliver by his feet. “Just in pieces.” The shadow slides a little closer. “He stayed near you, when I couldn’t.”
It keeps moving, until it stops beside me, curling into a loose coil.
“The first time I made one like this...” Kane steps closer, his voice lower. “Was for Ezekial when I couldn’t protect him… I gave him something that could.”
My gaze snaps to Ezekial, but he’s already looking away, letting the moment belong to Kane.
“Only the deepest emotions can be made into living shadow,” Julien offers gently, now standing by my side, translating what Kane can’t.
“Youmadethis?” I whisper, staring down at the small, black sliver. Remembering the tiny pieces curled around my ankle. My hand. “For me?”
Kane looks at me. Something’s warring in his expression, until he drops his gaze. He exhales, long and slow, like something inside him is finally giving in.
“I think it started the first time you touched me,” he murmurs, closing the final bit of distance, eyes locked on mine. “And it never stopped.”
I look down at the shadow, its shape and details clearer now. Similar to Ezekial’s, but different in the smallest ways. Itseyes, though hollow, seem softer. The shimmer across its dark scales catches the light more. Its head tilts, like it’s listening.
