Held by one while branded by the other.
Hiro’s chest was firm against my cheek. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I just stayed there in his arms, burned fingers throbbing against the wet towel.
This is so backwards.
Yesterday, I'd been the one holding Hiro. Right here. This same kitchen. I'd wrapped my arms around this man whilehe shook apart from his own memories. His own trauma. The weight of everything he carried beneath all that ink and muscle.
I'd hugged him so he would know that he wasn't alone.
And now I was the one breaking today.
And now he was the one catching the pieces.
Hiro ended the silence. "What's wrong, sis?"
I smiled at his sayingsis.
“Who do I have to kill?”
I widened my eyes because for any other man that would have just been a silly expression, but for Hiro. . .I had no doubt that he would kill for me.
I let out a long breath. "No worries. I'm fine now."
"Try again."
My throat tightened. "I'm just. . .struggling."
His arms tightened. His chin came to rest on top of my head. "Nyomi. . ."
His chest vibrated against my cheek. "You're loving my brother. You’re healing me. Every day. Your food. Your presence."
Hiro. . .
His voice dropped lower. "Let me healyou."
The words cracked something open in my chest.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but the images were already there—waiting behind my lids like predators.
Fire.
Smoke.
Burning bodies.
Ash floating in the air.
I shivered. "The pyre of traitors on fire. I just can’t get it out of my mind."
Hiro stiffened. “They burnt the rest of the traitors this morning?”
“Yes. You didn’t see it?”
“No. I just woke up and came down here.”
“To get breakfast?”
“I was tracking your scent.”
