She squeezed his hand and let him pull her out the front door, the cool night air greeting her, threading through the navy blue dress she’d pulled on that morning. Before she knew it, they were stopped in front of the house, though Lainey couldn’t see inside, due to the mirrored glass.
Before he led her inside however, he looked down at her, cupping her cheeks in his palms. Hesitantly, she placed her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating at an accelerated rate, which was abnormal.
“Promise me,” he said softly, “that you will not step within arm’s reach of him.”
Her brow furrowed, confusion pulling her lips down in a frown. “What?”
“He…he is not himself. He has not been for a long time,” Kirov said, his voice so deep, so gruff that it struck her as wrong. “Promise me.”
“Okay,” she whispered, realizing that there was much, much more going on here. But a strange thing happened. Instead of nerves, she felt…calm. She felt strong. Because Kirov needed her to be, for him. “I promise.”
He looked at her, dread so evident on his features that she could smooth over the worried lines with her fingertips.
“I am sorry,luxiva,” he said softly. “For everything. I want to make this right and I know we still have much to discuss afterwards.”
He was…trying.
That was all that mattered.
Her chest squeezed again. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she pulled him down and gave him a soft kiss. It wasn’t anything more than a gentle touch but Kirov seemed to need it. Hell,sheneeded it.
When they pulled away, Kirov inclined his head, his warm hands dropping away from her face. Then, with a steadying breath, he reached past her, pushing open the front door once it unlocked at his touch.
Immediately, angry yelling reached her ears. The houses were sound-proof for a reason it seemed, but Lainey didn’t let her shock show. There was a younger Luxirian male, a guard, she realized, near the entrance. The male looked at Lainey with a strange expression, but turned his attention to Kirov and said something in Luxirian. Kirov inclined his head and then led her further into the house, which Lainey realized was almost identical to their own, minus a second story.
Kirov brought her into the living room, having her stop near the fire pit. And there, she saw him.
An older Luxirian male, with Kirov’s eyes. He was cowering in a corner towards the back of the room, two other Luxirian males trying to advance on him. The older male’s whitening hair was tangled wildly around his horns, his shirt ripped, though the loose pants he wore looked fresh and clean.
He was yelling loudly, in Luxirian, or at least what she assumed was Luxirian, though it sounded strange, different. The other two males were responding, trying to calm him, and Lainey’s throat closed up tight at the scene before her.
Kirov advanced towards the group quickly and Lainey knew better than to follow him. One of the males, an older male as well, with greying hair, turned to look at him, relief evident on his features. His eyes widened, however, when he saw her and he bit out something in Luxirian to Kirov, his tone urgent.
Kirov replied, shaking his head.
Suddenly, his father’s eyes were on her. They were almost identical to Kirov’s, to those beautiful blue eyes she loved. She found comfort in that and she held his gaze steadily, wondering what he thought of her, standing in his house.
Kirov stood between them and he spoke in low tones to his father. Lainey heard her name, heardluxiva, as he told him about her. But his father’s features, his eyes, never changed. They were simply blank.
Until they weren’t.
Something flashed in them quickly and he let out a sudden loud roar, making her flinch, as it bounced around the house. Then he charged towards her, his meaty fist raised high.
Her stomach sunk though she wasn’t afraid. She knew that Kirov would never let anyone hurt her, would allow no one to come near her with violent intent.
And he didn’t. Her male snagged his father around the waist and though they were roughly the same height, Kirov subdued him singlehandedly. His father struggled in his arms, managing to jab an elbow right into Kirov’s temple in the process—making her gasp in concern—and Lainey felt tears burn her throat, though she wouldn’t allow them to rise.
This was what Kirov hadn’t wanted her to see, why he hadn’t brought her here. It all became suddenly so clear.
Eventually, his father grew tired from his struggles and sagged in Kirov’s arms. Her male held him up, supported him, as he led him to a cushioned chair to rest.
Lainey remained standing near the fire pit, listening as Kirov murmured something to his father, who grew unresponsive. All the fight seemed to drain from him, leaving him exhausted, his eyes beginning to close. She was already forgotten in his eyes. He never looked at her again.
Kirov comes here every day, she thought, her heart aching. Is this what he encounteredevery single day? Was this why he always came back to their house…changed? Different? She couldn’t imagine what he felt, what he’d gone through before.
When Kirov’s father shut his eyes, Kirov reached out a hand for something the other Luxirian male had in his hands. Lainey realized it was a shirt. A clean, unripped shirt. And when Kirov, with the aid of the two others, undressed his father and then put on the new shirt, Lainey realized what the whole outburst had been about. The other two males had only been trying to change his clothes.
Once they were finished, Kirov looked back at her, still crouched in front of his father, keeping him upright in the chair, though the older male slept. Their eyes connected and held.
