Chapter Thirty-Five #2
‘Kai Blackburn, praying over little old me,’ she murmured, a breathless laugh on her lips as his arms fell from around her. ‘Now I’ve seen everything.’
‘You’re testing my patience,’ he snapped, the words a growl as he rose to his feet and took a step back, putting space between them as though distance might steady him. Yet the moment she winced, her face creasing with pain as she shifted, he dropped to a crouch beside her once more.
‘Let me see your leg.’
‘It’s broken,’ she replied flatly.
‘I can see that,’ he muttered, already reaching towards it. But as he tried to inspect the injury, she recoiled instinctively, stubbornly, and the movement wrenched a scream from her throat. ‘Stop moving. I’ll have to carry you back.’
‘No.’
His brow furrowed. ‘No what?’
‘No, I’m not going anywhere with you.’
Kai exhaled heavily, the sound half sigh, half surrender.
Rather than argue, he simply settled down beside her, shoulder brushing hers as they both leaned back against the warm stone wall.
Across from them, the phoenix observed in regal silence, its great red-golden wings shifting slightly, sparks trailing from the tips of each feather with an almost mesmerising grace.
‘Did you ride that?’ Dawn asked, her voice tight, a bead of sweat slipping down her temple. The pain etched into her features twisted something sharp in his chest. He glanced at her leg again, worry gnawing at him. If they delayed too long, the injury might worsen.
Still, he said nothing. He would not force her.
‘I’d have ridden the back of a demon if it meant finding you,’ he said instead.
A long silence followed, heavy as dusk.
Kai cleared his throat awkwardly and added, ‘Getting the dragons was your idea. I need your help. That’s all I meant.
I said I’d come after you, no matter what.
We’re in this together. Remember?’ He kept his gaze fixed ahead, not daring to look at her, but he could feel the weight of her stare, those purple eyes watching him with quiet intensity.
‘She knows,’ Dawn whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, tinged with something fragile, almost childlike. ‘Alina knows it’s me.’
‘I know,’ Kai said softly, unflinching.
Dawn’s breath caught, a quiet gasp escaping her lips.
‘I spoke with her,’ he added. ‘It’s all right.’
‘No, it’s not.’ Her voice cracked. ‘I hurt her. I know I did, but…’
‘But she hurt you too,’ Kai said gently, giving voice to the words she couldn’t seem to speak herself.
He turned to her, truly turned, his gaze catching hers.
Her eyes widened, as though startled by the notion that someone, anyone, might understand her grief.
‘She was your friend, and you believed that when you finally showed her your true face, she’d forgive you. ’
The tears came swiftly, unbidden and unrelenting. They welled and spilt, tracing silver tracks down Dawn’s cheeks as she sobbed.
‘It was real to me,’ she managed, broken and raw. ‘I loved them. I truly did. But they didn’t love me back. Not once they saw my eyes.’
‘No, Dawn,’ Kai said, shaking his head, firm and quiet. ‘It wasn’t because of your eyes, and deep down, you know that.’ He held her gaze, unwavering. ‘They’re just eyes, Dawn. Just eyes. Nothing more.’
She looked at him, hollowed out by anguish. ‘But you hate me,’ she said, her voice a trembling thing. ‘Because of what they represent.’
Her words stole the breath from his lungs. He stilled, absorbing the pain behind them, the truth she believed.
There was a time when he might’ve said yes.
A time when all he could see in her stare was the death of his sister, of Haven.
But not now. Not after everything. Those eyes no longer haunted him.
His sister, Mal, bore that same violet glare.
He had loved and protected eyes like hers for most of his life.
I don’t hate you. Not anymore.
He wanted to say the words aloud. The truth of them burnt in his chest. But in the end, he said nothing.
‘I’m not going back,’ Dawn muttered, turning her face away, biting her lower lip to keep the tears at bay.
Kai gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘Fine, then I suppose we’ll simply make our home down here.’
Her head snapped round at once, eyes wide with disbelief.
‘And why, in all the gods’ names, would you stay with me?’ she demanded, her voice laced with rawness. ‘You want to be with the Fire Princess.’
‘Mm,’ he said mildly. ‘But you see, I wasn’t raised to leave a wounded woman alone in the dark of some forsaken cavern. So, until you’re able to stand without screaming, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.’
‘I’m not going back,’ she repeated, arms folding across her chest like a shield. ‘You can stop. I know what you’re trying to do.’
‘Do you?’ he asked, a crooked smile playing at his lips. ‘And what am I doing, witch?’
‘You’re trying to convince me.’
‘Convince you of what?’
‘To return.’ Her tone darkened, bitter and sharp. ‘But I won’t. Alina will slit my throat in my sleep the moment I do.’
Kai laughed. A low, amused sound that earned a warning glare from her. ‘Who knew it was so easy to scare you, witch? Had I known, I’d have threatened you months ago.’
Dawn let out a breath, half a laugh, half a scoff. ‘The difference is, I know Alina means it.’
‘Oh?’ he said, raising a brow. ‘And I don’t?’
‘No.’ She shook her head slowly, the movement delicate with pain. ‘You’re too good, Kai. Too damn noble. This world doesn’t deserve someone like you.’
Silence settled between them, soft as snowfall.
He looked at her, truly looked, heart knocking a little harder beneath his ribs.
For a brief moment, his hand moved, reaching out on its own accord, as if it longed to make her meet his gaze, to see the truth reflected in those eyes.
But instead, he exhaled and turned towards the phoenix, whose feathers shimmered in the dim light like flame-kissed gold.
‘You could show Alina she’s wrong,’ he said softly. ‘Prove you’re not what they think. That witches aren’t the monsters we were taught to fear.’
Dawn gave a bitter laugh. ‘And what are we then, if not monsters?’
Kai said nothing. Only smiled faintly, something small and sincere. Without hesitation, he reached out and took her hand, his fingers wrapping gently around hers, offering warmth, offering truth.
And this time, she didn’t pull away.
‘You’re like the rest of us,’ he whispered. ‘Survivors.’