The glove compartment was empty other than a few protein bars and a log book, the inside musty and damp. Unsure what the fuck he was doing he placed the key into the ignition, and when nothing happened he cursed.
Kace let out a steady, controlled breath, his beast riding him hard. If he didn’t calm down he would need a physical distraction, again.
Fuck this shit.
Grabbing his phone he dialled Sythe, his brother answering on the second ring.
“You know it’s almost three am, right?” Sythe muttered. “Where are you? And don’t tell me you’re out getting laid, because we both know the only thing you date is your hand.”
“I need you to come help me jump start a car outside Kyra’s old building,” Kace replied with a growl.
A pregnant pause. “I have so many questions, but first, what the fuck, K?”
Kace clenched his fists, savouring the pain as his nails dug in. “Don’t ask, just get over here before...” He caught himself, the vulnerability only heightening his lack of control. “Are you coming?”
There was no hesitation from his brother. “Be there in twenty.”
Chapter5
Kace
Sythe let out a low whistle as Kace parked Eva’s car in the underground garage, hiding it at the back. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, essentially salivating as he brushed his fingers down the side.
Kace glared at his brother over the roof. “A car.”
“It’s a classic BMW E30,” Sythe muttered, shaking his head. “Late eighties. You want to tell me why I helped you steal this beauty?”
“No.”
“Cool, great chat. See if I’ll help you steal shit next time you call me at three in the fucking morning.” Sythe pushed at the strands of his dark hair, warm caramel eyes narrowed. “K, talk to me,” he said, voice softening.
Kace dropped his gaze, knowing his beast was teasing at his irises. He needed to calm down, to hit something before he showed how close to the edge he was. What the fuck was happening? He hadn’t been this bad in a while, especially not after spending the last few hours in the cage.
“You know we’re here right,” Sythe continued. “If you need it.”
A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. “I know.” He had no choice but to be okay, otherwise he may as well admit defeat and succumb to the fucking curse. One-hundred years to find someone to soulbind with, or be dragged down into The Nether, the secure prison commonly referred to as Hell. All to become a personal guard dog to the same prick who bound them with the beasts in the first place.
The Guardians were all cursed in their early teens, which meant they had roughly eighty-five years left. Not like he believed he would make it that long, no, he knew there was only one option and that was six-feet under. He just hoped that there would be some sort of reprieve to the constant anger in death, but knowing his luck there wouldn’t be.
He had accepted he could never give himself fully to another being, to allow himself to be vulnerable enough that he could ever bind another soul to his. So death was the only option, because no fucking way would he accept an eternity as the beast.
“I’m fine,” he replied, hoping his voice didn’t strain.
Sythe frowned, but didn’t acknowledge the lie as Kace moved further into the basement, hand raised in a goodbye. He had his own room upstairs in the main house, but he preferred the peace and quiet surrounded by the cold concrete. He had the space to lose control without risking the others, especially now there were two females living there who weren’t as resilient to the damage he could do when in a rage.
He hadn’t blacked out in well over a year, but it was still a constant anxiety. Putting distance between himself and everyone else helped.
The place he had claimed as his own was situated in the corner of the basement just below the garage. It consisted of a pallet of blankets and a mattress, nothing more, nothing less. It was stark compared to the opulent bedroom several floors above, with its large bed, soft rugs and a sparkling bathroom. It was large enough, a room just off his workshop with plenty of space around the mattress. It was clean, which was more than he had growing up.
Kace paused at the door, glaring at the soft pillow that had been placed neatly on the sheets and the vase of flowers perched on a new side table, one that matched the dresser. Valerian, chamomile, yarrow and lavender; flowers and scents specifically designed to calm your mind. He wouldn’t have known what the flowers were three months ago even if someone had placed a gun to his head, but Kyra was an encyclopaedia of everything floral and green.
It also meant she had been there, in his space despite warning Xee to keep his mate away. Kyra had saved his life, and for that he was in her debt. But that didn't mean he wanted to be best friends, or for her to tidy up his shit including the homemade explosives he liked to tinker with. Luckily his desk was undisturbed, his drawings exactly where he left them. Amongst the designs of exploding crystals were his other sketches, and they were something he never wanted another soul to see. Images of his nightmares, memories that he tried to suppress through drawings. He would fill a sketchbook of the horrors he suffered, and then burn the book and start again.
Kace stripped out of his clothes, the cool concrete numbing against his bare feet. Something fluttered to the ground, and it took a second for him to realise what it was. He stared at the photograph, his thumb rubbing over the image of Eva dancing. The fire in his chest expanded, anger burning hotter as it seared deep into his gut.
He wasn’t sure why he had taken it, or why he placed it carefully beside the vase and flowers.
Not wanting to overthink he turned towards the wet room at the other side of the floor, stepping beneath the freezing cold spray of the shower. It did nothing to lessen the flames.
