Page 118 of Anomalies

“Yeah?”

She nods, the corner of her lips tilting up ever so slightly.

“Well, I meant every word.” My fingers trace her jaw, drifting down to the pulse along her neck. Maybe nothing has ever been so simple. Maybe nothing has ever felt more like home than this—than her. “A world without you, Chaos, is a world I don’t want to live in. I think Gemma would agree.”

Those big eyes widen, then they catch fire, bright and hot and unyielding.

“There she is,” I say softly. “I thought I lost you for a second there.”

As quick as it came, it went, traces of fear tracking across her face, but it’s relieving to know she’s still in there…somewhere. She can have as much time as she needs, gods know I need it too, we’ve been through enough in the last few weeks to last a lifetime.

“One of these days,” Lucina murmurs, turning to rest her head back on the pillow, “I’m going to be the one to save you.”

I tug her closer, whispering softly into the dead of night, “We’re even, Cin, I promise we’re even.”

29

LUCINA

Here’s the thing about the truth: once you learn it, you can’t escape it, no matter how much you wish you could. Sometimes the truth is something you hoped for, and sometimes it’s not. You can ignore it, and you can run from it, but it will always be there. It becomes your shadow, your ghost.

I feel like the truth is something I’ve searched for my whole life, and now that I’ve found it, I don’t want it.

I trace my fingers over velvet blue petals, a soft wind blowing my unkempt curls before the flower shrivels in my palm and falls lifeless to the ground. Thunder rumbles, drawing my attention to the clouded sky as the first drops of rain hit my skin. It blows sideways as it sweeps over the endless rolling hills and showers the wildflowers.

I sit in it, the rain.

My boots squeak in the damp grass as I pull my knees to my chest, and when I look up, he’s there. Tall and grim and shadowed, his face filled in now that I’ve seen it. His black hair is swept back, every sharp angle of his face is ashen, the thin line of his lips is stern, but his eyes⁠—

I’d always wondered what my father looked like.

I jolt straight up in bed, gasping for a breath as I do, and Callan’s there. Instantly.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” His hand gently brushes down my forearm. “You’re safe.”

No, I’m not. Neither is he.

My breaths are long and unsteady, but I let him pull me back down, and I let him drag me back into his chest, even though I shouldn’t. Even though this…and him, I can’t have it.

I can’t have my truth and Callan.

I roll over in the warm sheets, all the drapes drawn to let the sunlight in, and I take in the sight of him. Dark hair tousled from sleep or stress…probably both. His face is calm, serene even, his grey eyes a lighter shade than they’d been the last time we were in this bed. Heat pools low in my gut when I imagine him there, eyes wild and hands gripping my thighs as if they belonged to him. And gods, I wish all of me could belong to him.

But that would be selfish.

His callous fingers run through my hair, tracing the lines of my face while I trace the lines of his tattoo. His skin is soft and warm, as I move silently through each dip and valley and each corded muscle.

I trace the Syla Ren, and he gives me a lazy smile. “Is this still a good distraction for you?”

I laugh then, a small one, and it feels so foreign that it almost hurts. “I guess so.”

His tongue darts out across his bottom lip, and his eyes search mine.

Maybe I could keep Callan. Maybe I could keep my friends and Pirn…just a little while longer.

We both jerk our heads to the door when a stampede tramples through the living room, and hushed voices stop just outside the bedroom.

“Let us in,” Selene all but orders. “I’m not afraid to see either of you naked, but Kimber will definitely faint.”