Chapter 44 Sleep
"N oooooooo."
My lips are smushed against something hard and cool.
At first, the annoying vibration pauses, as though responding to my muffled voice, but it soon begins again.
It’s more aggressive and irritating than before.
I feel around the bed, patting areas blindly, refusing to open my eyes, grumbling in annoyance as I fail to find the source.
"Stop."
My entire body freezes. My stomach fills with lead and my heart begins to pound so hard my ears ring.
"Go back to sleep." Kane doesn't say another word. He twists his body slightly and I feel all his muscles stretching beneath me as he returns to his original position.
Beneath me.
In the bed.
With me.
With me sprawled over his chest.
His bare chest.
"What." At first, I think he's speaking to me, and I flinch at the blunt tone with a raspy edge, but someone else responds.
"What happened to the updates?" It's Ezekial on the phone and my muscles relax, slightly.
I still haven't moved.
I think I'm in shock.
"I...I fell asleep."
Even with my eyelids shut, my eyes flicker from side to side and my brows inch together. Had I ever heard Kane stutter over his words before?
"You were... sleeping?" Ezekial repeats. He sounds... Surprised? As though he can't quite believe what he's just heard.
"Yes."
There's a pause, one just a second too long to be natural.
"I'm glad, brother." The earnest softness of Ezekial’s voice confuses me, unsettles me.
Did Kane not sleep well? Did he have nightmares too? Questions I was almost certain I'd never gain the answers to and my heart aches a little in realisation .
"Hmm." I feel Kane stretch again. I can picture him pulling both arms up and over his head, his bicep muscles twitching and his stomach...
My eyes might be shut but I scrunch them even harder at the fantasies I'm concocting. That helps me to decide I've spent too long in this position, touching his bare skin. I slowly begin to push up and pull away until he stops me.
By putting his hand on my hip .
M y eyes race open at the contact and I’m immediately struck by Kane's gaze. Kane's sleepy, half lidded, grey-speckled stare which turns the lead of my stomach into something much, much lighter as heat cascades through me.
Fuck, he really is beautiful.
It's a dangerous, languid beauty of a predator when caught off guard. His hair is still soft and ruffled, and my fingers twitch with the desire to touch it, to make it messier, to add my own mark.
"She needs to rest longer. I'll contact you in a few hours." He keeps watching me as he speaks into the phone.
The blinding light casts half his face in a luminous glow which perpetuates the shadows of the other half. Then he ends the call, dropping the phone onto the bedside table with a clunk.
His darkness immediately smoothers me again, blanketing me in a calming haze which has my face falling back upon his chest.
"Stop thinking and sleep," he murmurs above me, his chin almost touching my head.
My heart rate begins to regulate again. My eyelids droop. Even with his fingers still skimming my hip bone through the cotton of my shirt, I drift back asleep.
◆◆◆
The room is empty when I wake, but I know Kane isn't far.
I can feel him, his icy touch still lingering even after another scalding hot shower. I also know he isn't alone. The familiar brush of his brother's power joining his as I get dressed.
The night was a blur but the snippets of memories are enough to bring a rush of scarlet over my cheeks. I grit my teeth as I pull the only oversized thing Alexis packed over my head: a dark purple hoodie. I want comfort, safety, and my power surrounds me in response to the vulnerability I can't quite understand.
" How are you feeling?" Ezekial's internal voice is like a soothing balm. Lulling. Healing. Somehow, the fragility previously en c asing me begins to dissolve.
"I feel fine. If I’m honest, I can't really reme m ber much." Just your brother's bare chest and sleepy gaze, but I work hard to keep those thoughts locked down. "Is Kane, OK? "
"Why are you asking that? "
M y eyes bulge. Clearly, my mental skills were temperamental because I thought this was a two-way conversation, not three .
When I don't respond, I shiver at the chill which rus hes through me. The sensation only makes me feel more aware, more present, which I clearly wasn't previously because I flinch at Kane's appearance.
"Shit! How long have y ou been stood there?" I gas p, watching Kane leaning casually against the wall beside my bedroom door.
He ignores my question, his dark eyes narrowing on me. "Why did you ask if I was OK?"
I frown at him. "You can't ignore my question and just expect me to a nswer yours, that's not how conversations work."
He doesn't move and, with the exception of his narrowed gaze, his entire expression remains void of emotion. "Not long.”
It takes my mind a few seconds to catch up because it seems it was spending too long appraising the dark suit pants and crisp, black shirt Kane's wearing.
His hair no longer the ruffled mess I fondly remembered, but back in its uniform style. I shake my head gently and use the moment to tie my hair up into a tight ponytail, hoping it might knock my brain back on track in the process.
"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" A smile acco mpanie s my patronising tone as I tighten my hair.
When his head cants to the left in response, his predatory gaze gleaming, I swallow.
I avert my eyes and speak quickly. "When you told Ezekial you were asleep, on the phone, he sounded... well, I guess he sounded confused? Relieved?"
When I peer up at him again, somehow his gaze has hardened, darkened. I begin fumbling over my words, playing with the corner of my duvet. "I just thought maybe you, that you couldn't... That you might get nightmares too. That's all."
When he doesn't react, physically or verbally, I move to the wardrobe beside me and quickly grab the first pair of boots I see.
I'm propped upon the edge of the mattress, slipping them on over my black leggings, when I feel his cold ness skim me again .
I pretend to ignore him, pretend that brief sensation didn’t make my heart race, my breath catch or my power clench tightly. But there's only so long I can pretend I don't know how a zip works.
When I look up, he's closer, but still closer to the door than he is to me.
"I don't have nightmares." There's no emotion in his statement because that's what it is, a fact, nothing more.
I'm about to respond with something I'm sure would add absolutely nothing more to the conversation when he continues.
"I don't sleep."
My face softens. "Ever?"
He studies me, my expression. "Demons don't require sleep, not like other creatures. We can go prolonged periods of time without it, months and sometimes longer."
"So, the last time you slept was..." I hol d onto the silence, desperately hoping if I don't fill it he might reveal just a piece more.
"Years."
My heart thuds at his response. Years. He hadn't slept in years ?
M y power blooms with that thought, sweeping out and bleeding into the air around us.
How many years exactly?
"Don't you ever get... tired?" I'm being so careful with my words, knowing at any moment impassive, closed-off Kane will return.
"Always."
He doesn't move, but his power does; I feel it skim mine.
"But you forget what that word really means, what it really feels like to be tired after a few months. Then after a year, you can't place the feeling, and then another year, it's barely an ache. Three more years pass, and it becomes a part of you."
“You choose not to sleep?”
“Not at first.” He readjusts his stance and glances up at the ceiling. “When I was younger, sleep helped pass the time. I rarely wanted to be awake... but when my circumstances changed, sleep seemed wasteful, unnecessary. The longer you go without it, the harder your mind rebels when you try.”
My heart aches for him.
I can feel his discomfort, how sharing even the barest piece of his life seems incomprehensible, as though it could lead to some horrific fallout o r catastrophe.
E verything in me softens with the desperate urge to console him. To learn more about why he would deprive himself of something he clearly needed. But I know I won’t get those answers, not yet.
I try for something less invasive.
“ When was the last time you tried to sleep? ”
The angles of his face harden as his jaw tenses. I’m waiting for the impenetrable wall to reappear, the stoic mask to slip into place.
“I can’t remember. Too many times.”
He answered .
He answered my question.
The shock hasn’t quite hit me, instead, I’m filled with an aching greediness, a desperation for him to share more, to do anything to keep him talking to me.
“Are you glad slept?”
One nod is his response.
A soft smile forms upon my face before I can even stop it. My coils are writhing around me, within me, with pure excitement.
“Do you think my exhaustion amplified your own, maybe? That’s how you were able to finally sleep?”
I’m treading carefully because I really have no clue if or how I made Kane sleep. I don’t remember pushing any emotion and I don’t even recall feeling any of his.
But I’m also terrified he’ll close up any second, return to his indifferent ways and block me out.
He's still.
So very still whilst he studies me and turns what should be a small pause into something more significant.
“ Something like that.”
I 'm so enraptured by this version of Kane, the one willing to actually speak to me and share a part of himself—without the fear of what he'll do to me after—that the questions keep coming.
"And how do you feel now?"
He pauses. "Better."
I nod at that small word like it reveals so much more.
Better.
I’d made Kane feel better .
I don't dare to test exactly how he feels, urging my power to stay nice and close ever since it began swirling around me.
"Good," I finally say and I mean it.
I knew what it was like to be exhausted, to never fully sleep, or rest, to always be upon the edge of reality and dreaming.
"I guess that explains why you're always so cranky."
It’s a risky move but the soft twitch of his lip makes the small jest worth it. My heart races but I keep my expression soft, unrevealing how much that small gesture affected me.
“We need to go downstairs.” He takes a step back, still facing me. “My brother wants to see you.”
Kane keeps stepping backwards until he’s leaning against the door frame again. Signalling the end of our sharing session.
My stomach becomes heavy with the realisation, making me question if I should have said more, asked more. When would I ever get to speak with Kane like this again?
And, more importantly, why did I even care?
This was the man who threatened and terrified me the most, the impatient, arrogant one who seemed to lack any empathy towards me. And yet, I can’t stop wishing he’d divulge all his secrets to me.
To just trust me.
Instead of dwelling on those confusing thoughts, I rise from the bed and approach him until I’m an arm’s length away. He could easily flit us now. Instead, his arms remain at his sides, hands tucked into his pant pockets.
He peers down at me, ensuring our eyes are level. “I need to say something first.”
“Oh. OK.”
As eloquent as ever.
I try to stand in a calm and relaxed manner, crossing my arms over my racing chest, even when feeling anything but as that never-ending gaze focuses upon me.
“Last night, what I said, after removing you from my brother’s office.” He pauses to ensure I know exactly what he’s referring to.
“I shouldn’t have—”
“We really don’t need to—”
We say at the same time.
“I do.”He pushes off the door frame, his face determined as he closes the short distance until I have to tilt my head to maintain his gaze.
“ Regret isn’t an emotion I’m familiar with, not in my line of work.” He studies my face carefully, from my eyes to my cheeks, my hair, my mouth—“I must make numerous difficult decisions every day. I have no time for regret.” Grey speckles his irises. “But I do regret the way I spoke to you, the things I said… they were uncal led for.”
After every couple of words, my eyes widened until my mouth followed suit.
Was Kane apologising, again ?
That thing he said he didn’t do. Wasn’t good at? Because this was another damn good attempt.
“Erm, I… Thank you?”
My brows scrunch as I digest his words. I manage to close my open mouth, only to immediately open it again.
“I’m sorry too. I mean, I’m not really sorry for the things I said because you have been a dick to me.” I quickly check his reaction, but his expression doesn’t even flicker. “But you were right about some things, about a few things. I do bring disaster. I have. Multiple times.”
My disasters flicker across my vision, effectively blurring my image of Kane as I relive them again.
B ut I quickly remember our mental connection and rip them from our shared view—a few disasters too late, albeit.
“ Those weren’t your fault.”
“ You shouldn’t have seen that.” My frustration seeps into the air as I step back, solidifying my arms across my tightening chest. “I hate that you can see inside my head,” I suddenly snap, then cringe at my out burst, taking more steps backwards whilst I attempt to explain myself.
“Blocking out one of you is hard enough but all four? All the time? And just when I think I’m getting better at it, I slip. Throw my unmanageable power into the mix and it really is a shitshow.”
“It isn’t unmanageable,” he rebukes, his tone concrete and sure as he takes a step closer. “It’s new. All of this is new and you’re still adapting. We can restart our training and we can speak with Ezekial about the mental blocks. That is his area of expertise.”
Kane cautiously watches me, softening his stance and expression into something similar to concern twisted with reassurance.
It’s as though he’s waiting for me to have a complete breakdown and that makes my mental hold even worse.
“Why is he being so nice to me?”
Not the worst thought that could have slipped through, but also not the best. I flatten my lips together and nod my head as if to confirm my lack of control and the embarrassment of it all.
“Because he’s starting to realise that he’s been a ‘dick’, as you put it.” Ezekial decides to chime in and a splutter of laughter escapes me.
Kane tracks my reaction and a tinge of annoyance nips me.
He’s annoyed at me for laughing ?
I shake my head at the absurdity of it all.
“But he’s right. I can help you with the mental side of things, but only if you tell me how you got my brother to sleep because that would be fantastic leverage.”
I’m laughing again and Kane’s eyes zero in on the sight, the intensity of which makes my laughter slowly die out.
"Please remind my brother that it is rude to listen in on others' conversations." A cold breeze flutters around me as his gaze narrows.
I widen my eyes but, as I’m about to relay the message, Ezekial’s voice rings clear in my mind. “Please inform my brother that until he admits his wrongdoings, I won’t be in communication with him.”
“Why isn’t Ezekial talking to you?” I frown, but as soon as the question leaves my lips Kane instantly releases a frustrated sound, like a huff of air and a groan, whilst shaking his head .
It’s the most emotion he’s shown for a while and I’m suddenly thrilled at the sensation, his irritation rushing through me but it’s paired with a subtle underlining of guilt.
“Because he always thinks he’s right,” Kane mutters, sounding like a petulant child.
I try so hard not to smile but I mustn’t manage it because Kane’s blackening sight latches onto my mouth.
I pull in my lips and swallow, whilst trying to ignore the sliver of cold I can feel brushing my throat.
“Was he right?” My voice is breathless because that’s exactly how I feel.
I’ve never seen Kane look at me like this—like he’s waging a war within himself, a battle he’s no longer able to endure.
I’m locked in my own struggle, desperate to save him, to bridge the chasm between us and feel his skin against mine like I did last night. To have him hold me like last night. Like I might dissolve into nothingness without him.
His eyes finally lift to meet mine, and the raw vulnerability in them steals my breath.
“Yes,” he whispers, the word heavy with unspoken pain. “He was right.”
The admission hangs between us, a fragile truth that threatens to shatter the fragile peace we’ve built. His gaze flickers over my face, searching for something—acceptance, forgiveness, salvation?
Without warning, Kane’s expression hardens, and the vulnerable softness in his eyes vanishes. He takes a step back, creating more distance which leaves a cold void in its wake. His jaw clenches, and a mask of stoic determination settles over his features.
The shadows in the room shrink away as he abruptly leaves.
My power swirls around the empty space in response with restless energy. Searching for him.
My chest tightens, and I realise I've been holding my breath. I exhale shakily, the sound sharp and uneven. The air rushes in, filling my lungs in a necessary gulp. I place a hand on my chest, trying to steady the rise and fall, willing my racing thoughts to calm.
Slowly, the tension begins to fade, but it’s replaced by a heavy, aching emptiness.
“We start training again tomorrow evening.”
His sudden voice sends a shiver down my spine, perfectly matching the cold that accompanies it, easing the ache slightly.
“ You’ll need a jacket.” Why that little add on makes me smile I have no idea. But it does. And the cold ache warms slightly.
Thankfully, I have no more time to dwell on the feeling of loss that accompanies Kane’s sudden departure because Ezekial is in my head, asking me to meet him downstairs.
With one deep inhale and a determined nod to myself, I step forward into the unknown.