Chapter 8 Kane
I can recite it all from memory, but I continue to stare at my screen, flicking the weather map up and down, over and over—anything to distract myself whilst I wait for Jasmine to speak to me again.
To ask me something. Anything.
She’s been inside the small greenhouse ever since I told her she could become immortal. I can see her just outside my peripheral, doing something with those little pots, but whenever I feel the warmth of her gaze, I don’t allow myself the reprieve and ensure mine stays averted.
Has someone slowed down time? Have seconds ever felt this infinite before? The dwelling, the doubts my mind creates while I simply wait—agonising.
I am not a patient man. My time is valuable, yet… Here I am. Waiting. Thinking. Doubting everything.
Tell her the truth.
That’s what they said. That’s what was agreed. But where has that gotten me? The truth is a pleasant dream, but that’s all it is—a dream, because the truth is always harder. Grittier.
Should I have told her we were immortal? But she asked… and they told me to tell the truth. They said to tell the truth and keep her talking. But instead, she’s pulled away.
12:40 PM and I have no idea how to fix this.
I’m not Sai. I don’t know how to cajole people into a conversation. I don’t have Ezekial’s warm demeanour or Julien’s charismatic ways. I don’t have anything to offer—nothing.
Nothing that can convince her I’m worthy, nothing that—
“Are you still busy?” She appears before me, and I very nearly drop my phone.
The light from the afternoon sun blares through the open skylight, illuminating her in a spotlight of warm gold. Her scarlet strands glisten, her pale skin glows, and her eyes burn brightly, narrowing in question.
She is truly an ethereal being. One I’m not worthy to look upon.
“Kane?”
I tilt my head down as I close my eyes. I need to savour this, I need to memorise the way her mouth forms when she says my name, lock the memory deep inside my mind.
I slip my phone into my pocket, pretending that’s why I looked away, before blinding myself with her face once more.
“I wasn’t busy,” I say, because I am telling the truth.
“Oh.” The way her lips shape into that sound should be illegal.
I shouldn’t be allowed to witness it, but I greedily steal that moment too as she sits down across from me. I study how her loose strands of hair bounce in soft curls before she hastily tucks them behind her ear, oblivious to my internal struggles.
“You said I wasn’t immortal yet.” Rather than look at me, her burning gaze flickers over the table between us, even though there’s nothing on it but my hands. “So how do you become immortal?”
“It’s complicated.” My fingers twitch. “Each person is different.”
Her eyes stay down as she asks, “Well, how did you become immortal?”
There’s an instant tug in my chest at her words, a pulsing in my head, like the memory wants to burst free from its deep cove.
Tell her the truth. That was the mantra. But am I ready to tell her this truth? Relive my past? The events that led to my immortality and my downfall.
When her fiery gaze finally lifts, settling on me, her darkness calls to mine with a warm tug. I realise I have no choice. I am at her mercy.
I have to do this. For myself—for my brother… for all of them, even her. She deserves to know this.
To know I don’t deserve her.
“How much do you know of the three realms?”
“Embarrassingly little.” She points to the table. “I know there’s this realm: the Earth Realm.” Then she points to the side, to a shadow. “And now I know there’s a Dark Realm. But I don’t really know what it is or what that means… then the Fae Realm, I guess?” Her pale cheeks flush slightly.
She’s embarrassed. Embarrassed by what she doesn’t know.
Five years to learn of this world—five years—and yet she knows so little. Nothing of the true third realm. Nothing about the origin of everything.
What did that so-called family teach her exactly? How to be useful to them. How to stand guard in a club while the truth rotted beneath her feet.
But she knew of the ‘Dark War’. She knew the histories they’d chosen to give her—half-truths twisted to serve their purpose. I nearly scowl, remembering how she linked enforcers to those genocides.
Everything she’s been taught is tainted.
I keep stoic, quelling the anger crawling beneath my skin.
“Jasmine.” My voice is level, hands remaining steady on the table as I wait for her to look at me. “Before I answer your question about my immortality, you need to know about the three realms.”
She nods, fiery eyes locked on me.
“In this world, there are three realms. The Earth Realm, where we currently reside. Accessible to all beings. Then there is the realm of dark.” My darkness curls around me at the mention of it. “And the third realm, the Light Realm.”
“Not Fae?” she queries, her voice soft and contemplative.
I shake my head once. “That came after.” She frowns. “Would you like me to explain now?”
She blinks, her eyes struggling to stay in one place. Is she that shocked by my offer?
Then her gaze is back on me. “No, not yet. Keep going.”
“The two realms are not separate worlds, rather reflections of it. But they are shaped by the essence of the beings who dwell within.
“The Dark Realm, accessible only to beings of the dark, is a shadowy reflection of Earth. And the Light Realm, is its luminous counterpart, accessible only to beings of light. Both realms echo the Earth’s landscape but are infused with the nature of their inhabitants—flourishing or fading, thriving or crumbling, depending on the balance of light and dark within. ”
Her lips part, brows furrowing in concentration. I wait to see if she wants to ask anything, before continuing.
“Now you understand the true three realms, I can begin to explain how I became immortal.” I pause, considering my next words carefully.
I will tell her the truth, I gave my word, but some truths are harder than others.
“But mine and Ezekial’s stories are somewhat entwined.
I will answer your question, but please do not ask me to elaborate on my brother’s.
If you deem it so, I think it’s only right he is the one to share that with you. Not me.”
Her eyes widen gently with surprise; the sunlight makes them glow like vermilion flames. Then, slowly, she nods.
I never want her to stop looking at me, so I keep talking. “I will also understand if, afterwards, you do not wish to be near me.”
Her dark brows softly dip as she pulls in her lower lip. I steal that expression too.
Then there’s a pause in which her fiery eyes flicker over my face. I worry she’s about to deny me—to walk away again… Instead, she shifts on the small chair and waits, her gaze never leaving mine.
So I begin.
“The Dark Realm, as you’ve seen, is now barren.”
I feel our darkness stir—hers warm, sharp, reactive. Mine cool, steady, curling protectively around us like transparent smoke. I don’t think she notices.
“But it wasn’t always that way. Some centuries ago, it was my home.”
Her brows lift slightly on the word ‘centuries’. Not in judgement, but quiet surprise. But I keep going. I have to. If I stop now, I won’t start again.
“It was home to all creatures of the dark, but always presided over by demons. The ruler of the Dark Realm was an incredibly powerful one who reigned with one mantra: Better to be feared than loved. And feared he was.”
I glance down at my hands, resisting the urge to rub the ring on my thumb.
“He was determined to have more powerful heirs, and spent most of his reign searching for partners whom he believed were… compatible.” My darkness pulses.
“He scoured every realm, even the Realm of Light, obsessed with breeding power. Believing his legacy should reshape the world.”
I pause, then lift my gaze to hers—just long enough. She needs to hear this part. Clearly. But speaking the next words takes more effort than it should.
“His partners were not always willing.”
Jasmine swallows slowly. The pale column of her throat draws all my attention for a moment, but her expression doesn’t change, still resolute.
I continue. “The children, his children, were taken from their mothers. Barely grown.” Jasmine’s expression falters then. Her eyes shine, her mouth tightens. “For decades, he stole them, raised them, tested them.” I hesitate. “And when they failed, he killed them, and called it mercy.”
She inhales softly, but it sounds too sudden, like it caught her off guard.
“None of them were enough, and time was running out.”
I stare at my clasped hands, at the forsaken ring.
“No one is born immortal.” I pause. “You become it.”
I wait, unsure if she’s ready to hear this next part. But she asked for the truth.
“Only beings of the dark may become immortal, because although we all have pieces of light and dark within us, the darkness is what changes you. Some are born with more than others, demons often the most, but the darkness can grow. It feeds from pain. Tragedy. If you experience enough, over time, you become immortal.” I say nothing for a moment, pushing back the memories.
“Some never achieve it, for most, it takes centuries. But to gain such power means to lose another. Immortals cannot have children.”
Her eyes drift, just so, like the thought has rooted itself somewhere deeper than she expected. Her warmth flickers. The shadows darken.
I want to reach out. Say something to ease it. But what words exist for a grief you haven’t lived yet?
“When he felt his mortality ending, when the darkness inside him reached its peak, he tried again. Had one last child.”
I stare into her vibrant, questioning gaze, and I know she knows.
Me.
Her eyes spark with flickers of brilliant scarlet, glistening, bouncing between mine as she softly frowns.