Page 270 of Breathe Like Hell

“You need a picture of me like this?” he questioned.

“I just need a picture of you. I had none.” Her lower lip trembled as she looked down, clicking her silver locket open to show him the inside.

“You took that from my lecture slides? I’m sorry you had to go through such lengths to find a picture of me.”

“I have another picture to show you.” Dakota’s thumbs swiped across her phone screen, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. She tapped on a photo, then turned her phone to show Micah. I didn’t catch more than a glimpse, but I could tell what it was. Her graduation day. Dakota, sitting on the steps crying, but holding her diploma.

He hugged her tightly.

“You know how fucking proud I am of you? You have no idea. You’re incredible. You did it without my help.”

Micah’s eyes slid across the table to glare at me. The pit in my stomach only grew heavier. I didn’t have an excuse for not going to her graduation other than I was really fucking angry after he died. Angry at Dakota. Angry at him. Angry at the world.

I knew it was a big deal. I just…

“You have a beautiful brain, Masters. So beautiful,” he said, holding her face.

But even with him like this, being so caring towards her, I could sense the unease in his expression, his body language. He hated what Dakota knew. He was bracing for the day that painful truth decided to rear its ugly head. He loved her, but he was fighting the urge to try and avoid her, to hide.

Dakota might’ve been too grateful to have him back to see it just yet, but I could see it plain as day.

Micah sacrificed his life for Dakota not only to save her, but also because he wanted to die. And that shit didn’t go away in the darkness.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

DAKOTA

Micah brushed my hair to the side, laying it over my shoulder so my back was exposed, shower water trickling over my skin. His fingertips skimmed reverently along the scars.

He was the one to give these scars to me. He was the one to give me my wings.

Micah was inscribed on every smoky feather, twisted into my muscles, threaded through my scars. It brought me comfort, knowing he’d made me like this. I would always carry a piece of him. I wouldn’t know who’d set me on this course as an infant, but Micah was the one to bring me back to life, to transform me now.

I turned around to stare at his face, seeking out his emotions in his eyes.

I could maybe reach into his brain, but he’d know the instant I did it, and he would shut down. So, I wouldn’t use my aspect. I would stare into his gray irises, trying to decipher his secrets there, allowing myself to be lost in every complexity.

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight against his chest so I couldn’t look at him anymore.

We hadn’t talked much today. I’d been so hopeful that bringing him back would solve our problems, but every tense hour was proving otherwise. I’d gone through nine months of grief, nine months of adjusting to my new life as an angel, but Micah was still on the side of that road, kneeling over my bleeding body.

He couldn’t meet me where I stood now. He didn’t know this version of me. He hadn’t been there to watch me change.

We were trying to hold each other across nine months neither of us could cross.

I’d imagined our impossible reunion so many times that I’d forgotten one simple truth: Micah coming back to life wasn’t the same thing as him coming back to me. In our last moments, I’d screamed at him, argued with him, then walked angrily away from him. When he looked at me now, that was what he saw.

And as much as I didn’t want to, I saw Mason when I looked at him.

I saw cruelty and trauma. Control and distance.

I’d wanted him alive so badly that I’d never stopped to wonder what being alive again might cost him. This wasn’t easy for Micah. He’d stepped back into a world where his shield had already been stripped.

I kissed his wet skin. His chest, his collarbone, the base of his throat.

Micah held the back of my hair, tilting my head back so our faces were close.

“You’re Sigeian,” he said, his deep voice almost lost to the sound of the shower.