Page 69 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

But he tried.

As he willed the pain away from Jay, it stabbed into Rain’s own ribcage, stealing his breath. Jay’s body eased. His breathing slowed. His muscles relaxed. His eyes fluttered open, blue and dazed.

Rain kept breathing through the pain he’d taken on. He’d never broken a bone before; the sensation was foreign, sharp, but manageable. His thought back to the little girl in his vision, the one who took her brother’s pain.

“What happened?” Jay croaked.

“You fainted. You’re okay. I’m here.” Rain cupped his face. “Don’t move yet. You might not feel the pain, but you’re hurt, badly. Why didn’t you tell me?” Jay’s face was soft, vulnerable; he wasn’t meant to carry this kind of pain.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Jay whispered.

“I will always worry about you,” Rain said, leaning closer despite the ache in his side. “You have my heart.” He kissed him softly.

Jay sniffed, blinking fast. Rain recognised the sadness radiating off him as something more than related to his pain.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“I miss you,” Jay sobbed, a single tear slipping down his cheek before he wiped it away. Rain’s heart clenched. He sent warmth and love through their connection, soothing him, wishing he could pull him into his arms without hurting him.

“I’ve missed you too,” Rain murmured.

Wren returned at a run, holding a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. “Here, I got you something sugary too. I thought it might help.”

Rain helped Jay sit, feeling a fresh spike of pain in Jay’s torso and siphoned it away instantly.

Jay blinked. “What the… did you just take my pain away?”

“Apparently I can do that now,” Rain said with a helpless shrug, the pain still flickering in his eyes. He settled behind Jay, legs bracketing him, letting Jay lean back against his chest. “Drink. Eat. You still feel weak.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt this badly?” Wren scolded softly. “You should be at home resting.”

Jay’s shoulders curled inward as if trying to make himself smaller. “I didn’t want to let the team down,” he mumbled. “Or make anyone worry.”

Rain exhaled slowly, the kind of breath that carried frustration and fear in equal measure. Jay’s pulse fluttered under his palm, too quick, too strained.

“We worry whether you tell us or not,” Rain said. “And putting yourself at risk puts all of us at risk. I’m already blaming myself for not having my channel open and sensing a problem. Wren’s blaming herself for not checking you over. We all feel responsible, even though this happened because of our relationship.”

Jay’s gaze flickered, guilt tightening his jaw. Rain dipped his head, resting his chin lightly on Jay’s hair, grounding both of them.

“If you want to be brave and put your life at risk for me—which is irresponsible, and I hate it—” he murmured, “—then you need to be honest with me and not take stupid risks.”

Jay’s breath hitched. “Okay,” he whispered.

He reached blindly for Wren’s hand. She took it instantly, her grip firm, protective, her thumb brushing the back of his knuckles in a silent apology.

“I’m sorry, but…” Jay said, voice cracking. “This isn’t your fault. The only ones to blame are the people who beat me.”

Rain’s expression didn’t change, but something cold and angry slid behind his eyes.

“Yes,” he said calmly. “And I want to kill every single one of them.”

Jay twisted to look up at him, shifting too quickly. Pain lanced through him; Rain felt it spike like a blade and siphoned it away before Jay could fully gasp. Jay sagged into him, relief trembling through his frame. Then, with a shaky arm, he looped it around Rain’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.

“No killing,” he murmured against Rain’s lips.

Rain’s mouth twitched. “No fun,” he muttered back, earning a soft laugh from Jay that eased some of the tension coiled in the air.

Rain straightened, shifting into leader-mode with a fluidity that made the rest of the squad instinctively look up. “Okay, everyone, gather around.”