Chapter Thirty #2
The reason I can’t sleep through the night.
The reason breathing no longer comes naturally.
Leo could heal my cuts, bruised face, and broken bones.
But he couldn’t mend the part of me that shattered inside.
Kylo’s thumbs brush the wetness from my cheeks. I hadn’t felt the tears fall.
“Lia… I didn’t know.”
The last of my strength disintegrates.
I’m too tired to hold it together anymore.
“Our family was normal—or at least it looked that way. Joaquin decided Draven was his favorite, and after that, the divide in our household was impossible to ignore. Leo and I became the punching bags. Draven looked the other way. We tried to fight back, but it only ever made things worse.”
He squeezes my hand, a silent reassurance to continue.
“Once we graduated high school, we stayed away as much as we could. Joaquin was always gone on business trips, and when he was home, we found reasons to disappear. We drowned ourselves in college—classes, studying, anything that kept us from going home. College felt like freedom. For a while, I believed we’d escaped.
That we’d made it out. We were so close. ”
My voice drops to a whisper. “I don’t know what set him off. Joaquin and Draven came for us. They killed our mother and burned the house to the ground, thinking we’d go with it. If it hadn’t been for Leo, I wouldn’t be here.”
He pulls me against him, his arms a shield against the rest of the world.
“I wanted to tell you sooner,” I say, my fingers knotting in the fabric of his shirt. “But after Carter told me about your parents, I didn’t know how to tell you I understood. I was afraid of what you’d see when you looked at me.”
His hand cradles the back of my head, anchoring me as he rests his chin atop my head. I bury my face in his chest and let go. Hot tears soak into his shirt as the weight of my pain rushes out of me like a breaking dam.
He holds me together until the worst of the tide passes.
His jaw shifts against my temple. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice thick. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Time drifts by as we lie there. His words from earlier loop through my mind—about my family, about Leo and me. That we’re the reason his parents are dead. That the only reason he’s trapped in this endless cycle of war and loss is because of the Lockharts.
“I said those things to hurt you because I was hurting,” he whispers, his thumb tracing a slow line along my knuckles. “I hate that I did. You didn’t deserve that.”
“But you weren’t wrong. We’re the reason you’re here.”
“I’m here because of them. Not you. If my parents were still alive, Carter and I would still be fighting for the people who can’t. This would still be our war.”
A war that exists solely because of Joaquin.
“Everything else I said was true. I didn’t grow up with powers. I still don’t know how they showed up or why. Leo and my mom knew everything about Joaquin and the Aether Hunters. I didn’t know they existed until the night we lost our house. That’s when Leo told me.”
I pull back enough to look at him. “I knew Joaquin was cruel. But outside of our home, he was always gone on work trips.” A bitter laugh slips out. “That’s what my mom always called them. Business trips.”
“I believe you.” His fingers hover over the spot Draven touched. “What else happened?”
“He was taunting me about my siphoning abilities. Why does he think I’m valuable when I don’t know how to use them?”
“Mind manipulation.” He looks off, lost in thought. “If he wanted, he could compel you to siphon others’ abilities.”
“We should talk to Carter and see what he thinks. I need to tell him that Draven knows where we are, and—”
“He knows where we are?” he interrupts, going still.
“He knows we’re in a forest, but I don’t think he knows exactly where.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think,” I say, trying to recall what he said. “It’s all fuzzy. Like a distant dream.”
“Let me see.”
“See what?”
“I want to see both conversations you had with Draven.”
“You can do that?”
He gives me a pointed look. “Yes. It’s like a memory.”
I nod as Kylo cups my face and slips into my memories.
He moves through them quickly—first the panic attack before he came in, then a slower, more focused replay of my conversation with Draven.
After that, he skims through my walk with Carter, then lingers on the first time Draven broke into my mind.
He watches that memory three or four times before standing abruptly. “I’ll be back.”
The canvas flap cracks like a whip as Kylo lunges through the tent opening. I’m right on his heels, stumbling over the uneven dirt as he stalks toward the truck. Zayne and Carter are mid-load, arms full of sleeping bags and gear.
“Hurry up,” Kylo barks. He throws his hand out, and the remaining items hover, vibrating with energy before dropping into the bed of the truck.
“Hey! I had a system!” Zayne shouts, dropping a bag to the floor. He looks past Kylo and straight at me, pinning me with a glare.
“Change of plans,” Kylo says. “Draven found a way in. He’s in her head.”
Zayne’s hands go to his hips, his posture stiffening. “How do you know this?”
“He’s been trailing us,” Kylo says, slamming the tailgate shut.
“What, did you let him in? Invite him for tea?” Zayne asks.
“It didn’t happen like that,” I say. “I can’t control when he does it.”
“That’s not the point,” Kylo argues. “We were Draven’s priority, but now it’s changed.”
“To what?” Carter asks.
“Lia.”
All three men look at me.
“They want her, Carter,” Kylo says, his shoulders tense.
“We’ve got a plan,” Carter says, concern tightening his features as he watches Kylo. “Pack up her tent. We’re leaving.”
“Tell me something,” Zayne says, stepping closer to me. “Where’s your daddy hiding?” he spits. “Why did Leo surrender to Draven? And why did you lie to us about your identity?”
“Lay off,” Kylo warns. He steps between me and Zayne. They stand chest-to-chest, noses almost touching.
“It’s a valid question. Who’s to say she’s not leading us to slaughter?”
“We already had this conversation,” Carter says, pulling Kylo and Zayne apart. “Control yourself. You’re saying this to get a rise out of her.”
“So what if I am?” Zayne snaps. “She’s one of them. Same blood. Same poison.”
The malice in his voice—and the raw hurt beneath it—reminds me that Zayne has his own story. I’m a living reminder of everything he stands against.
“Finish packing. All of you,” Carter orders. “We’re wasting time.”
I start breaking down the tent. Kylo slips in behind me, wordlessly helping before hauling the remaining gear out to the truck.
Zayne and Carter are waiting inside.
As I reach for the door handle, Kylo’s hand clamps around my wrist. “Lia. Wait.” I turn, my pulse thudding against his grip. “I need to know one thing.”
“What?”
“How long have you known how to shut me out?”
“It wasn’t intentional at first,” I admit, looking down at where his skin meets mine.
“I was sure you’d see it all the second we met.
But even before this, I learned how to compartmentalize.
I find a dark corner in my mind and cram the parts of me that hurt into it.
If I bury it deep enough, it’s like it never happened. Even to me.”
I meet his eyes. “I didn’t just hide it from you, Kylo. I hid it from myself.”
He nods, like that’s exactly what he expected me to say. “What are you thinking about now?”
You.
And the terrible certainty that this could never be simple.
“Nothing,” I say instead.
“Right,” he clips, putting space between us.
If he weren’t a telepath, he’d never know what I’m thinking. He’d have to guess, like I have to guess with him.
His coldness snaps back into place so fast it’s like a door slamming in my face. “Get in the truck. It’s time to go.”
I don’t know how to exist in the space between us anymore.
It’s unstable.
I’ve never felt so alone. Leo is gone, and somehow, I’ve lost Kylo too.
Why does it hurt to lose him when he was never mine to begin with?
I should’ve known this wouldn’t last.
My feelings for him keep growing anyway—reckless, uninvited—no matter how often he pulls away.
And the worst part?
I still care.
Far more than I should.