For all the darkness we’d faced, there were still these bright, precious moments. Moments of joy, of something approaching normalcy.
With a small smile, I continued to our bedroom. It was time to help one more piece of my world heal.
#
The bedroom was quiet except for Casimir’s steady breathing as I carefully set the breakfast tray on the desk where Koa usually sharpened his knives. I moved toward the bed, my eyes fixed on my husband. His golden hair was sweaty and sleep tangled, and I itched to brush it, but didn’t want to wake him.
I perched on the edge of the mattress, not wanting to disturb him, but unable to resist being close. My fingers hovered over his hand, which lay palm-up on the sheets. The steady rise and fall of his chest reassured me, even as I worried about what would happen when he woke. Angelo’s warning echoed in my mind, that Casimir might wake in panic, desperate to confirm I was alive.
As if sensing my presence, his eyelids flickered, a butterfly’s wing-beat against his too-pale skin. I held my breath, watching the firstsigns of consciousness stir behind his face. His brow furrowed slightly, lips pressing together as his breathing changed rhythm.
“Simmy,” I whispered, laying my hand on his forearm.
Casimir launched from prone to crouched in the center of the bed in one fluid motion so swift, my eyes barely tracked it. His body coiled like a spring wound too tight, muscles bunched, his fingers curled into claws. But it was his eyes that froze my blood. Wild, unseeing, the green almost swallowed by black pupils blown wide.
His chest heaved with rapid, shallow breaths, and a sound tore from his throat—half growl, half whimper—that shattered my heart into jagged pieces.
“Hey.” I held my hands up where he could see them. “It’s me. It’s Seri.”
His gaze darted frantically around the room, not registering my presence or my words. His breath came in harsh, shallow pants, like he was drowning in open air. When his eyes finally locked on me, there was no recognition, only raw, animal panic.
“No. No, no, no—”
“Casimir. You’re safe.” I inched closer. “We’re at Evermere. Everyone’s okay.”
“Not real.” His hands fisted in the sheets, knuckles bleaching white. “I can’t lose— Don’t make me— Please, not again…”
“I’m right here.” I risked another inch closer even as my heart ached. “Amabel didn’t get me. You stopped her. You, Koa, and Zane. You all saved me.”
“Zane? Koa?” His voice cracked on their names.
“Both fine. They’re both perfectly safe.”
“I saw them die. I saw it. I saw—” His voice broke on a jagged inhale, his body trembling. “Zane is dead. Koa is dead. And my love is— My Seri is—”
“I’m alive.” I closed the remaining distance between us, kneeling before him. Slowly, I reached out one hand, and he stared at it. “Amabel’s been captured. She can’t hurt anyone now.”
Surprising me, he let me take his hand, and I guided it to my cheek, letting him feel the warmth of my skin, the wetness of the tears now falling freely. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, the first crack in his certainty that this was just another cruel illusion, so I moved his palm to rest over my heart.
“Feel that? It’s beating. I’m alive. I’m real.”
“If this is a trick,” he growled, “I will find a way to kill you even in death.”
“Oh, Simmy,” I half-sobbed, half-smiled. “Always the protector, even when you’re the one needing protecting.”
“What did you call me?” The question held a universe of fragile hope.
“Simmy. You’re my Simmy.”
“Seri?” His breathing slowed a fraction. His eyes darted around the room, recognition dawning. “Evermere. Our bedroom. Zane? Koa?”
“They’re fine. Finishing breakfast before they take care of Amabel.”
“You’rereallyhere? Not hurt?”
“I’m really here. Not hurt.” I smiled through my tears. “Although my heart hurts seeing you like this, Simmy.”
Something in him crumbled. His hand moved lightning-fast, fingers circling my wrists to verify I was there.
