His eyes lock with mine again. “It knew I would never see you again if I stayed. That was the only reason I could leave.”
Stab me in the heart with a dagger. Drag me over broken glass. Burn me with acid. Because that was the only way I could ever feel more pain than right now.
His dark brows furrow. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad.”
“I know,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “You’re telling me the truth, like Ezekial said you would.”
Kane looks so… concerned. A rare expression, one I need to memorise because I’m not certain I’ll ever see it again. The sad furrow of his brow, his eyes wide and soft, the swirls of ash in his obsidian stare.
“You haven’t been eating.” His statement is sudden, yet so quiet, so gentle—like he’s terrified to say it, terrified of my reaction.
I wet my lips, stare down at the plant. “I haven’t been very hungry.”
“That’s the darkness,” he explains. I feel his gaze tracking my fingers as I grab a bigger pot. “It quells your basic needs, like hunger and rest. The more power you gain, the less you eat.”
I freeze, my fingers hovering over a new plant. “I’m fine.”
“No, you need to eat.”
I glare up at him. “You never eat, why do you think you can demand it of me?”
“Because I don’t need to eat.” My brows furrow, a silent expression of confusion. Kane sees it, and somehow, he keeps his face perfectly blank as he says, “I’m immortal.”
What the fuck. We really are just telling the truth.
My mouth pops open again and I swear I see the slightest twitch of his lip. “What?”
He frowns. “I’m—”
“No, no.” I shake my head. “I understood, I understand what that means I’m—I’m just in disbelief that you said it like that.”
“How was I meant to say it?” He tilts his head.
“I really have no idea,” I say, half-laughing, completely disbelieving. “You…” I shake my head again. “I had all these questions prepared and you’ve just thrown that out there. I was never even going to ask… never even thought… wait.” I peer up at him. “Is it just… Is… Are youallimmortal?”
He cants his head the other way. “How would you like me to answer that?”
So that means yes.
I stare at him, and then new questions burst into my mind. How long had they been immortal? How did it happen? Were they born that way? Did they become it? Was it because of the dark?
“You live… forever?” I search his face.
“Seems so.”
Seems so. What a casual response to such a momentous question.
“Wow. And that means you don’t need to eat?”
“No. But other things happen to us when we don’t fulfil our… basic needs.”
“Okay, right. So, I need to eat because I’m not...” I can’t finish the sentence, but he knows what I’m asking.
His gaze softens. “No, you’re not.”
I sigh in relief.
“Yet.”
