I wait for the question.Who? Why? What did they do—
“And was life better, after that? After they found you?”
Not what I expected. Not even close.
I slowly nod. “We trained to become enforcers, and as this realm grew, we grew into men, our darkness grew with us, and everything settled. Life became… easier.”
I feel her trying to soothe me again and, intentionally or not, I revel in the heat. Of the feel of our powers combining.
Even if I don’t deserve a crumb of it.
“I’m… I’m so glad you had him,” she murmurs, eyes flickering over the table before meeting mine again. “That you had each other.”
Of all the things she could have said, could have asked, she chooses kindness. Again.
Even knowing what I’ve done. Who I am. What happened to me.
I was forged for vengeance, and she is pure mercy.
“And whendidyou become immortal?” she asks, voice soft and gentle.
“It took centuries.” Her eyes widen a little. “At first, your darkness stops you ageing, and eventually, it decides your fate—either it remakes you, or it destroys you.” I hold her gaze, knowing what I’ll need to say next. “It’s rare to survive turning immortal, because few beings can contain that much darkness inside their bodies, and it’s…” I falter.
She isn’t immortal. She’ll have all this to come. And just the thought of watching her endure what Ezekial and I suffered twists in my chest…
She leans in a little, her voice even softer. “It’s okay. I want to know. Even the difficult parts.” She attempts a smile. “Tell me, Kane.”
“It’s painful.”
She nods, like she’d already figured that much out.
I swallow. “I became immortal first. Somehow, I endured, and with it came greater control of the dark. But when Ezekial turned…” I pause. “It was harder for him. He was a being of light, immortality was never meant for them. The dark nearly tore him apart, and even now, he struggles to contain it, but he—”
“He has you,” she whispers, ending my words with more tears, placing her hands upon the table.
I nod. “Yes.”
My fingers twitch, gaze darting to her pale fingers.
“You control his darkness, when it gets too much,” she whispers, trying to keep her voice level though I catch the slightest quiver. “And you help the others.”
“Yes, the dark listens to me but...” I peer away, stare into a shadow that has begun to grow around us.
“Tell me,” she says, and my gaze latches onto hers. The burning, fiery rage subdued slightly.
“I hate it,” I admit, and the darkness shakes. “Every time I go to the realm. Every time I use the dark. It reminds me… It reminds me that I’m just like—”
My hands are encapsulated by fire, the heat so intense it burns.
But it’s her.
She’s touching me.
Not because I made her, not because she has to, but because she’s chosen to. Shewantsto touch me.
And I want her to.
Burn me, burn me for eternity, as long as she is the fire.
