Chapter 40
KAI
It had been nearly six months since his father passed, and Kai hadn’t done anything with his old study on the second floor of the House.
To this day, he’d only opened the door three times.
When his mother still stayed in a wing here, he knew she’d sit in the space sometimes, either because he’d caught it ajar or could hear her crying, whispering as she talked to his father’s ghost.
He’d felt like a coward then, not going to comfort her, and he felt like one now, standing in front of the oak door, hesitating.
He had to get over this. It was a fucking office. It wasn’t as if his father’s spirit was going to come out and berate him for being there.
As if he, too, wanted Kai to get on with it, the pup squirmed in his arms, lunging forward. Kai held him tighter. “Okay, relax.”
He stopped wiggling, and Kai could’ve sworn his red eyes narrowed.
He eyed the door again, giving it one last long, slow drag before taking the biting cold handle in his hand. “Fuck it.”
The door opened with a squeak so glaringly loud in his ears, and the light spilled from the hallway, mixing with the moonlight in the room.
He’d only ever made it in a few steps each time before he left, and even now, six months later, the scent of smoke from his father’s pipe smacked him in the face.
It still sat there on his desk, abandoned.
Kyran had likely been in here just before bed that night.
Kai closed the door behind him as if caging himself in. He’d get through this. It was just a room.
There was a blanket lying on the small couch—one of his mother’s favorites—likely left from all the times she’d sat or slept in here. Why did you leave me? He’d heard her sob once, and it still haunted him.
The scent of smoke choked him.
Kai suddenly became very aware of the heartbeat beneath his palm, the warmth pressed to his chest. The pup didn’t squirm, only nuzzling closer. He flexed the fingers of his other hand, wishing again for his mate, wishing he’d had her floral, rain-kissed scent to chase away some of this smokiness.
He drew closer to the desk and didn’t bother turning on the lamp because then he’d clearly see the unfinished paperwork that remained there, his father’s handwriting scribbles somehow legible.
Plopping on the couch, something sharp poked at his leg, and he let the pup down with a warning not to piss on the floor. He reached beneath the blanket to pull out a framed photo. He recognized the grainy, discolored image as being taken by his mother’s old camera. Of course, it would be here.
It hadn’t been his entire family. Only his dad and his two sons, with his mother behind the lens, posed on the deck of the family’s riverboat.
Jaden had his lumerosi across his chest, which meant he had to be at least fourteen when he’d fully mastered his shift and been granted them, meaning Kai had to be around eleven.
Up on his father’s shoulders, while Jaden stood in front, the wind pushed through his hair that had been curlier then, as he threw his arms out, beaming without restraint.
He almost wondered if the kid was him at all.
He was trying to protect you.
Ezekiel had to be lying, or perhaps Kai just needed him to be.
He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, leaving the frame to the side and putting his face in his hands.
Suddenly, everything in the room pressed down on him: the darkness, the quiet, the barest truths that he never truly let himself feel.
They were dead. They weren’t ever coming back. He’d never see them again, never find them, no matter if he turned the world upside down and inside out. They were nowhere.
And that suffocated him with every word he hadn’t said and any remark he wished more than anything to take back. It suffocated him with the realization that he wanted to hear his father’s advice. About being an alpha, a mate, a father… even if he may have disregarded it anyway.
He wanted Jaden’s, too. Wanted to keep growing up with him, start each of their families as they’d always talked about, and figure out who would be the cooler uncle. He wanted him to tease Kai mercilessly for being so stupidly in love, but then come to understand why, like he always did.
A dampness crept into the corner of his eyes, and he swiped it away, never giving it a chance to slip. He leaned back in the chair again.
There was no room for tears, no room for breaking.
The sound of scraping and shuffling, of soft growls and grunts, carried to his ears. Kai craned his neck to see the pup’s tail wagging and butt wiggling as he pulled something from beneath his father’s desk.
“Hey! Stop that,” Kai called across the room, but the pup didn’t cease. Whatever it was, it had to be heavy, or the little beast’s strength hadn’t quite kicked in yet.
Kai groaned, pushing to his feet. “Little one.” His gritted voice echoed in the room, and he sounded more like his father than he ever had in his life.
He reached down, scooping the pup up in an arm and bringing his face close to his.
His red eyes blinked naively at him. Kai couldn’t be swayed. “What did I say?”
The pup lunged forward in response, lapping Kai’s nose. His breath was horrendous.
That was truly bak.
Kai grumbled, wiping away the wetness. “You and Isla will be the death of me—fuck.”
Reeling forward, Kai grabbed what he could to support himself, his father’s bookshelf holding his weight. His chest felt like it had been cleaved open, his entire body numb and cold with panic.
Not. His.
Isla. The bond.
Kai had felt terror like this, pure, genuine fear, from her enough times to know that something was wrong.
And he had nowhere near enough time to get to her.