My head dropped to his uniformed chest, my hand trying to muffle my cries.
He scooped me up, sank to the ground with me cradled in his lap, and removed my hand from my mouth.
“No one will hear, Hellion.”
Except him.
I didn’t want that. There was a lot I didn’t want, like the stupid hope that Lucifer might’ve grown to love me. Like my tattered remains yearning for comfort and relief—not more pain. When did I start wanting his acceptance? When did I start wanting a father? I was such a fool.
The only parent who ever cared about me was my mother.
I cried into Ronen’s neck, and he brushed his thumb back and forth over my hand. His shadows caressed my face, absorbing every tear and damp trail as if they could take it all away. It helped. He helped. But I’d never tell him that, not that I had to. I bet he could feel it.
We sat in the pitch-black hall, quiet, until my shaking cries died to sniffles and I gathered the strength to stand. The moment I pulled away, a part of me ached for him. I wanted to grab his hand, to feel that soothing touch. I wanted to be enveloped in that soul-aching scent. Was it the bond? Was it my need for comfort? Or something more?
Ronen reined in his shadows and stood. I blinked into his black-and-gold leathers, unable to meet his gaze.
“Is it Oliver?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Your father?”
I stayed silent.
“Your mother?”
My head lowered, and my heart twinged.
Did he know what I did to her? What she had become?
Ronen took my chin and forced me to look at him. He searched my face, his attention lingering on my puffy eyes, before sighing and releasing me.
“Spend time with Oliver today. I’ll have MJ lead your squad until you’re ready.”
Lead your squad.How had I forgotten that I’d killed Moira and earned her position? Did he truly believe I was capable of leading them?
“And tomorrow?”
“You’ll lead and train.”
A protest surged to my lips. But it froze when he removed the blockon the bond for a split second. Challenge, determination, and desire speared through my pain just as he brought his tingling finger across my cheek to tuck a stray wave behind my ear. His essence wove through my mind and body, easing my aches and filling an emptiness I never knew I had. The sensation was magnetic—irresistible. It drew me closer and made me crave things I shouldn’t
“You have more to learn, Hellion.” He drilled me with his searing gaze. “Lots. For one, I’m not indulgent. My orders stand.” Dropping his hand, he reestablished the block, cutting me off from him.
I inhaled sharply, feeling like I’d lost something important. I wanted it back and hated myself for the weakness. Digging my nails into my palms, I turned to head toward the healers’ wing.
“And Hellion,” Ronen said softly, warmth threading through his voice. And something more. A whisper of an emotion that halted me, that made me question if I was hearing an unspoken truth or making it up in my head. Regardless, his tone did dangerous things to my heart. “The night will always be a safe haven for the stars.”
Chapter
Eight
Ronen
The wide stone hallway slowly swallowed the hellion, much like her oversized sweatshirt and pants. She looked so small, fragile. My shadows prickled at my feet, urging me to go after her. To hold her again. Ease as much of her pain as I could. Maybe even bring back that fluttering light that had nudged the block I had against her this morning.
I continued to waver between letting in her emotions entirely, filtering them, and blocking them. I usually resorted to the latter two. But I realized I had to be careful with filtering.
