Because it stopped me from thinking clearly. It stopped me from fighting against what my body desperately wanted. And it made me feel smaller in the world than I already did.
Without my say so, my body leaned against the couch, surrounding the touch in my hair as my eyes slipped close.
I wasn’t tired, yet my body was betraying me in keeping protocol.
“Would it help if I got your full record from Lockswell?” Evander asked quietly, his hand still moving gently through my hair.
I lifted one shoulder in half a shrug. I didn’t bother to answer. Whatever he found wouldn’t change anything. The file was just a file. The paper didn’t rewrite who I was.
“The file will have everything,” he continued softly. “How you became a ward of the boarding house. What was documented? All of it.”
“Parents died. Car crash. Me taken there.” The words came out slurred, thick on my tongue as the medication pulled at the edges of my awareness. I tried to stay upright, but the darkness kept tugging.
“If your file says that,” Evander said, “then I’ll accept that you aren’t who I think you are.” He paused, thumb brushing lightly behind my ear. “But I’m still going to request a blood test. So, we both know where you came from.”
I wrinkled my nose. “It’ll be in there.” Lockswell did blood tests all the time. Yearly. Sometimes more. They always said it was required.
“I want a new one,” he said firmly. “I don’t trust Lockswell’s doctors.”
Fair enough, I thought hazily. My knees were starting to ache from kneeling; the weight of my body was too much to hold up. I shifted, trying to ease the pressure, and of course Evander noticed.
He guided me up gently, steadying me with a hand at my elbow before rising himself. “Come on,” he murmured, voice low and warm. “Let’s get you to bed.”
The wordbedsounded far away. I nodded without thinking, letting him lead me toward the hallway, my body moving on instinct more than intention.
“Okay,” I whispered, the word barely holding shape as the haze pulled me deeper.
I didn’t know if I was agreeing to rest or agreeing to trust him or just too tired to fight anything anymore.
Maybe all three.
Chapter 25
Evander
Kasey was asleep before his head even touched the pillow.
For a moment, I almost worried he’d be up all night after how much he’d slept today, but the thought passed away as quickly as it came. His body wasn’t just tired; it was recovering. Healing in ways he hadn’t been allowed to before.
He needed the rest; deserved it.
He sunk into the mattress, his breathing evening out almost instantly and I stayed there a moment longer, watching the tension finally slip from his face. The kind of peace he fell into now wasn’t something he'd ever been given freely. And if sleep was the only place he felt safe enough to let go, then he could have as much of it as he needed.
I had to stop myself from reaching for my camera. Every instinct in me wanted to capture him like this. Quiet, soft, finally at peace. But it felt too intimate, too much like taking something he hadn't offered.
So, I just stood there, memorizing him instead.
Kasey’s dirty blond hair stuck in uneven tufts from where my hand had run through it too many times today. The shadows under his eyes were still darker than I liked, bruised reminders of everything he’d been carrying for far too long.
But the freckles dusting his nose.... They stood out more now, deepened against his skin, like the medication had coaxed a little warmth back into him.
He looked young like this. Vulnerable.
I lingered a moment longer, watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing. He didn’t stir. Didn’t make a sound.
I brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead, then forced myself to step back.
Kasey was wrapped in the blanket from this morning. The same blanket that was the exact copy of one that I once had as a teenager. I had seen it in the store and couldn’t help but buy it with unfilled hope of actually finding this Omega.
