Page 170 of The Blood Rites

Kael lets go of me, his hands shaking as he stares at them like he doesn’t recognise what they’ve done.

I look at him—and something in me recoils.

Not from what he did. But from how easy he made it look.

He sees the fear, and his face collapses.

He doesn't speak.

He just turns and walks away, leaving me alone as the warmth returns to the room.

I want to sleep. I want the memory of Kael—the black hunger in his eyes—to be erased by it.

But sleep won’t come. Every time I slip under, I wake gasping, choking on ghosts. I can’t get out of the room fast enough.

The halls of the Embrace are empty. The lights pulse dimly, weak and uneven. Everything feels off-balance, like the whole world is tilting and no one warned me.

I drift through the halls until I end up back outside my room. But I don’t go in. I go to his.

I expect Kael’s door to be locked, but it opens under my hand. The room inside is the same as before—organised, severe. He’s there, hunched over the desk, leaning on his elbows.

“Not now, little rabbit,” he says, without turning.

His voice is smaller than I expect. Empty.

I step inside anyway and shut the door behind me. I stand in the centre of the room, my hands shaking “You scared me,” I say, because it’s true.

He turns in his chair, and the look he gives me is so barren it pulls the air from my lungs.

“You should be,” he says, but it’s just for show.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Not like that. I’m not scared of you. I’m scared for you. It was like you were—” I search for the word. “—gone.”

His mouth quirks. Not quite a smile. “And you’re here to find me?”

He stands and crosses to the other side of the room. He’s never been this cold, not even when I was just a target. An unknown.

“Maybe,” I say. “Maybe I was worried about you.”

“Don’t waste your time,” he says.

I move closer and rest my forehead against his back. “You told me we didn't have long. You told me to let you in. I’m saying the same to you now.”

He turns to me. “I’m not worth this, Luceris,” he says, his voice breaking. “I never have been.”

We are breaths apart, but the distance feels deeper than that. I set my palms on his chest. “You’re all I have left,” I say. My fingers tremble, and I try to still them. I want to run. But he’s shaking too, just a little, so I wait.

Eventually, he sits on the bed, burying his face in his hands. “You should go,” he says, muffled.

Part of me wants to take the chance to run. But I won’t. I go to him carefully, slowly, and kneel beside him. “You said you were a monster,” I whisper. “Is that because of him? Your father?”

He flinches. “Did Nyxen tell you?”

“Just pieces,” I admit. “But you don’t have to tell me anything.”

He looks at me, and his eyes are wet. “Do you really want to know?” he asks.

If it helps me find him, then yes.