Chapter Eight
Lia
My skin is clammy, and the sheets are twisted around my legs, evidence of another night spent running from things that shouldn’t exist. The clock glows, and the alarm wails.
Leggings snag against my damp skin as I drag them on in a hurry. There’s no time for the mirror. I scrub my teeth with minty foam, then spit and head for the door. An angry growl rips through my stomach, a protest against the breakfast I have to skip.
I’m speed-walking to the training room, fully aware that Kylo is probably fuming over my tardiness.
The door squeaks open, grating against my nerves.
Kylo is perched on the bench near the mats. “You’re late.”
Steeling my expression, I meet him in the center of the room. My shoulders square and my chin tilts up, locking onto that piercing cerulean stare. “I know. I slept through my alarm.”
“You look like hell.”
“Aw. You really know how to brighten a person’s day.”
He gestures to a can. “Do you want an energy drink?”
With my pill bottle running dangerously low, the last thing I need is that kind of caffeine rush.
“No, thanks. I’ll survive.”
“Let’s get started.”
He leans against the wall, arms crossed. The fabric of his shirt strains against his biceps, the dark material tracing the hard lines of his chest. Ink coils along his arm—a serpent threaded through blooms, a single flower peeking above the collar at his neck.
My eyes linger a second too long.
“The gym is for training, not for cataloging my anatomy,” he says, yanking me out of my haze.
Heat floods my face. I drop my gaze to the mats and pivot away. “Can you show me how to seal my thoughts? Clearly, I’m an open book.”
He advances, the distance between us shrinking until I’m caught in a cloud of fresh laundry and crisp pine.
“Today, I want you to read my thoughts. Control starts with using your powers when you choose to. You let them take over the other day. Now I want you to activate them yourself.”
I look at my empty palms, then back at him. “How? There’s no manual. This isn’t exactly intuitive.”
“Control,” he says. “First, focus on me and listen. Hear my thoughts. You may feel what I’m feeling, depending on how much control you have.”
Focus on Kylo.
Not that hard.
My gaze betrays me—boots, black pants, the way he fills the space. My throat goes dry. He looks unfairly good standing there.
The whole lethal package.
I pull in a measured inhale, centering myself in the small things.
The faint whir of the vents, the worn texture beneath my palms, the subtle shift in the air when he moves a few inches away.
A strange warmth spreads through my chest, like the first touch of sun after a long winter.
“Can you hear me?”
The voice doesn’t hit my ears. It brushes directly against my mind, light as the stroke of a paintbrush, carrying a rich, velvety resonance.
It’s him, but stripped down to something quieter. An intimacy that makes my insides flutter.
My eyes fly open. His lips haven’t moved.
Yes, I think. The word feels shaky even in my own head. I hold my breath, wondering if the thought is loud enough for him to catch.
“I hear whatever you intend to send. What else do you pick up?”
The tension I’ve come to associate with him is muted. “I sense calm coming from you. Did you alter your emotional state for me?”
“I adjusted,” he replies. “Yesterday proved anger isn’t useful. I won’t let it interfere again. Your training comes first.”
Efficient. Distant.
Get through this. Move on.
Message received.
Grumpy Kylo aside, I just had a conversation without opening my mouth.
“That was good, but you have much to learn. Most people don’t self-regulate.”
Thoughts pass.
Emotions linger.
Zayne’s grief hadn’t faded when the conversation ended. It followed me into sleep.
If every encounter leaves something behind, and every emotion takes up space, I don’t know how much longer I can last. Soon, there will be no room left for me.
“Telepathy aside, handling both abilities demands more focus and control.”
He says it like it’s a simple math equation. After last night, I want control. I don’t want to keep wondering when my abilities will interfere.
“Let’s try again. I’ll lower my shields and push into your mind. You’ll hear my thoughts and see some memories. Your job is to shut me out.”
My boots slide back an inch. It’s an old reflex, a survival muscle that’s been twitching since I was a child. One side of me stays rooted, watching him without fear, but the other is already calculating the distance to the door.
Kylo’s stare sharpens, his eyes locking onto mine with a new intensity.
Shit. Did he hear that?
If he did, he doesn’t call me out on it.
“I’m going to place my hands on either side of your face. It’ll be harder for you to resist me. I want you to give me everything you’ve got.”
Touch my face?
I back away again, my heels hitting the edge of a training mat. If he’s that close, if his hands are on me, I’m trapped. There’s no running if he decides to—
“Lia,” he says with an unfamiliar softness. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I search his face, looking for a lie, but his eyes hold mine.
Snap out of it.
My teeth press into my bottom lip. “Okay.”
“Close your eyes,” he orders, the familiar steel returning.
Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.
You’re not in danger.
My lids fall shut as his palms find my skin. His hands are unexpectedly warm as he cradles my jaw. The contact sends a tingle that skyrockets through my brain like fireworks bursting behind my eyes.
Specks of color sparkle across the darkness, blinking into shapes. Faces and places rush past, blurred at the edges but humming with a vivid, living energy.
A younger Kylo appears. His hair is cropped short, but the real change is in his face. The shadows beneath his eyes are gone.
The images accelerate, turning into a reel of his memories.
Kylo is sitting, his head thrown back in a laugh. A man stands over him with a hand on his shoulder, a spark in eyes the same deep shade as Kylo’s. He’s older, his dark hair streaked with salt-and-pepper.
One memory snaps into crystalline focus: Kylo and Carter in a sun-drenched courtyard. They move in a blurring, flawless rhythm—a dance of blades and fists.
Every strike is met with a perfect parry; every shove is countered with a controlled brace.
There’s no anger in the set of their shoulders, only a burning focus. They move like two halves of the same machine, their eyes locked in a silent, grinning challenge.
The Radshaw boys fade, replaced by the swirl of a long, curled brunette mane.
She spins in Kylo’s arms, her hand light in his as he guides her through a slow dance.
A genuine, unguarded smile transforms Kylo’s face.
It’s hard to reconcile this version of him with the hardened man standing in front of me now.
“Resist the memories. Resist my mental pull. Push me out.”
The curiosity is a physical itch beneath my skin.
Ground yourself. Be here.
I focus on the heat of his palms against my cheeks, trying to use the sensation as an anchor to the training room floor.
I snap my eyes open, but the room doesn’t return. I’m still submerged in his mind. The girl appears again, but the light has been snuffed out. A large, blurred silhouette of a man towers over her, pinning her down. Her small fists thrash uselessly against him as he overpowers her.
A wave of guilt erupts in my chest, both crushing and destructive.
It isn’t mine.
I need out.
I screw my eyes shut and visualize a wall—a hard, solid barrier—slamming down between us. I reach inward, forcing my thoughts apart, trying to break the connection.
“Jesus. What the hell was that?”
The haze shatters.
Kylo is on the floor.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to use my telekinesis. I was trying to break the mental link, not… not knock you over.”
“I let go, and you clung to one of my memories. How did you do that?”
When he looks at me, there’s no anger in his eyes—only restraint, visible in the rigid set of his jaw. His grief settles into me, threaded with resentment. Not something explosive. Something that’s been carried for a long time, pressed down, ignored.
He’s on his feet, his mental shields snapping back into place. The prickly instructor returns, but the mask doesn’t fit anymore.
I’ve seen past it.
“I don’t know how that happened.”
I thought his walls were coming down. Instead, he adds another layer of reinforced steel.
His lips press into a thin line, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Don’t do that again.”
“It wasn’t on purpose—”
“You saw the memory and went straight for it.”
“Isn’t that a good thing? I used my telepathic abilities, and it worked. I got in.”
“You’re supposed to see what I allow through.”
“It’s okay for you to peek into my private thoughts without permission, but I can’t see yours?”
“Look who’s finally catching on.”
He really just said that.
“Why?” I press.
“My mind is a dark place.”
“And you think mine isn’t?”
“I never said that.”
This man is absolutely infuriating.
“This whole dynamic is one-sided. You shouldn’t be allowed to listen to my thoughts when I can’t hear yours. What are you afraid I’ll find out?”
“It’s none of your business.”
I hold his gaze, daring him to look away. He stands like a mountain, unyielding and cold.
If there’s going to be a bridge between us, I’m the one who has to build it.
“I need to trust you. If we’re going to work together, I can’t do this in the dark.”
“You think having access to my personal thoughts will build trust?”
“Yes. It would show you have nothing to hide.”
He lets out a short, dry sound that’s halfway to a scoff. “I’m the one who shouldn’t trust you.”
I lock my arms across my chest. “How do you figure?”
“You expect me to believe your powers showed up out of nowhere? Like a virus?”
“You’re in my head.” My voice rises to match his. “You should know by now.”
“Tell me why you and Leo are here.” He leans down, his face inches from mine. “Why the obsession with the Aether Hunters? People don’t pick fights with killers for fun.”
“That’s none of your business.” I throw his own words back at him.
He lets out a harsh breath and drags his hands down his face, his skin pulling under the pressure. “Our session is over.”
The door hits the frame with a bang that echoes off the walls.
I stay where I am long after he leaves.
His memory won’t let go. It keeps resurfacing in fragments, uninvited.
I didn’t ask to see that part of him, but now I can’t unsee it.
Whatever walls he’s built around himself, they’re there for a reason.
I’m not sure I trust what it took to build them.
Which means training with him like this can’t work.
I leave the training room without a plan. The space I’ve spent so many hours in suddenly feels useless.
Down the hall, I pause at the meditation room. Carter and Leo sit cross-legged, eyes closed, faces calm and distant. I keep walking.
Light spills through a door to my left.
The damp, salty air whips across my face. A narrow wooden path cuts along the cliffside, leading down toward the shoreline below.
I slip off my shoes, letting them dangle from my fingers, and follow—step by step—until sand replaces solid ground. I sit. The water finds me, lapping at my toes. I don’t move as it soaks through my clothes.
The sun warms my face. The breeze cools it again.
I stay like that, watching the current advance and retreat, letting time pass without keeping track of it.
Somewhere behind me, the compound exists.
In front of me, the tide keeps moving.
I don’t.
Thoughts of Kylo intrude. The pieces I wasn’t meant to see.
The beautiful woman.
Whatever broke him started there.
Something changes when I’m near him. The space between thought and feeling thins. I notice things faster—breaths, pauses, the weight of what goes unsaid.
I should let go before it’s too late. Caring will only make it hurt worse.
But after stepping into his mind and feeling his grief, distance feels theoretical. Whatever he’s hiding already matters to me.
If emotions reveal what words won’t, then surviving this war means learning how to face what he refuses to look at.
Including myself.
“What are you doing out here?”
I jump, a small cry escaping my throat. “Warn me next time!” I scramble up, swatting sand off my leggings with more force than necessary.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” Leo says. “It’s not safe.”
Not safe. I bite back a retort. Apparently, I’m a prisoner now. “I needed some air.”
“You should be training with Kylo. Where is he?” Carter asks, falling into step beside Leo.
The afternoon sun catches the gold in his hair, highlighting the symmetrical lines of his face.
“He ended our session early.”
“What happened this time?” Leo asks.
“We had a disagreement.” I brush the sand from my palms, granules clinging to my skin.
“Dammit, Lia,” Leo says. “Why can’t you and Kylo find a way to work together? I need you to master your abilities. We’re running out of time.”
A cold prickle sweeps over me. “What do you mean by that?”
“The Aether Hunters are on the move,” Carter says. “We’ve received intel that they’re searching for compounds like ours.”
“What does that mean for us?”
“We don’t know yet,” Carter responds. “Zayne and Marco are on alert. Elijah’s keeping me updated, but he’s in Vancouver. If hunters are spotted anywhere near here, we may have to leave Oregon.”
“You said we were safe.”
“We are,” Carter replies evenly. “Until we’re not.”
“That’s why training is crucial,” Leo says. “Every chance you get.”
“I’m trying,” I tell Leo. “Kylo is making this nearly impossible.”
“I’ll have a word with him,” Carter says.
“This can end,” Leo says. “The fear. The death. Us running. We can defeat them if we’re prepared.”
He shifts his weight, shoulders slumped, gaze fixed somewhere past me. The lines at the corners of his mouth deepen.
I glance at Carter, unease curling in my stomach. “Can Leo and I talk? Alone?”
Carter nods. “Make it quick. I want everyone inside until the area’s clear.”
I turn back to Leo, studying him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I can’t get anything past you, can I?”
“Tell me.”
“I had a vision.”
“Does it have something to do with my training?”
Leo’s gaze drifts toward the water, following the slow roll of the waves. “I can’t answer that.”
“Why do I have to train with Kylo? His training is doing more harm than good.”
“You could train with Marco instead.”
“Absolutely not.”
That man doesn’t belong anywhere near me.
“Have you considered,” Leo says gently, “that the reason you’re resisting so hard is because it’s working?”
I open my mouth to argue—
“Training isn’t easy. Real growth hurts. It wears you down. Most days you want to quit.” He looks at me pointedly. “That’s where progress happens. Kylo’s pushing you past limits you didn’t know you had.”
“I get that, but why him? Why not Carter?”
“Lia…” Leo rubs his forehead, his breath leaving him in a long exhale.
“What?”
“Trust me. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Most days, I only see him at meals or in passing. I miss the old us.
If this were before, he would’ve stayed.
He would’ve taken my side.