Chapter Forty-Two
Lia
I’m on the beach again. Fog blankets the shore, thick and disorienting. The wind howls louder than before, slicing through the freezing air with the same frenzy raging inside Draven’s mind.
“Let’s get this over with,” I call out.
“Welcome back,” Draven says through the mist.
“Why am I here?”
“Your guard dropped. I tried to find you, but couldn’t. Interesting, isn’t it? Then one moment—poof—there you were.”
“Again, why am I here?”
“You’re here to tell me where you are.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d cooperate.”
He steps closer. I straighten, meeting his vile eyes.
“You’ll do as I say. This is my world, and I’m not releasing you until you surrender.”
I try not to smirk at his revelation. A weakness he unknowingly shared.
“Actually, you’re going to tell me where you are.”
“We’ll see about that,” he threatens.
Since we’re in his mind—because none of this is actually real—I conjure a blade.
I launch forward, my shoulder slamming into his chest. I hold him off, channeling everything Kylo taught me, then shove his weapon aside. I press my palms to his cheeks and dive into his mind.
Rivers of red, the echo of children’s screams. Draven’s gloating laughter as Blair stands beside him. Joaquin, calmly coaching him through his first taste of murder.
I sift through those unwelcome memories until one scene catches my eye.
Charming cottage-style homes with ivy-covered stone walls surround the beach, their chimneys curling smoke into the sky as if they belong in a fairytale village.
The ocean stretches before me, crystal-clear water lapping against powdery white sand.
Cypress trees lean with the wind, framing the scene like an enchanted movie poster.
Draven and Blair walk along the beach mid-argument, Blair’s arms cutting sharply through the air. She’s wearing the same outfit she had on the last time I saw her.
This is recent.
This is the key.
The image dissolves as a shadow moves in my periphery.
He drives a blade into my abdomen. Agony sears through me as I stumble backward, clutching the wound.
“Surrender, and I’ll spare you what’s coming.”
“You need me. You can’t kill me.”
“Death is easy. I’m far more interested in stripping away your will.”
“Without Joaquin, you’ll lose,” I say, flashing him what I hope is a menacing smile.
“You killed him by luck alone. He saw dozens of futures, and your victory was the least likely. You surprised him, but you won’t surprise me. The legacy belongs to me now, sis.”
“Not if Carter and Kylo get to you first.”
“Don’t underestimate me. I’ll strip the skin from your bones if you don’t yield.”
He thinks he’s already won.
But now that I know where he is, I’ll finally stop him.
Pain ripples through me, but I smile anyway. “Bye, Draven.”
Power rises inside me as my walls slam shut, my mind becoming a sealed chamber he can’t breach. “No!” he roars, his presence clawing at the edges before disappearing.
My fingers hover over the gash in my side, blood spilling warm and slick between them.
“What the fuck did he do to you?” Kylo’s voice is distant, panicked.
How far away is he?
I teeter on the brink of unconsciousness. The wall ahead is a mess of garish reds and blacks, an ugly swirl that makes my head pound. Cold seeps into my bones.
Hands cradle my face, briefly chasing away the chill. “Keep those pretty eyes open.”
“Carter! Hurry the hell up!” Kylo’s shout ricochets off the walls.
My eyelids flutter, heavy as lead. I try to keep them open, but everything threatens to fade out. My hand drifts back to the wound.
A ticklish warmth blooms across my side. “Stop,” I beg, laughing weakly. “That tickles.”
The iciness fades as a golden heat spreads across my skin. Carter’s hands linger above my wound, palms aglow, knitting flesh and sealing vessels with gentle pulses of energy.
When my sight clears, I glance from Carter to Kylo, whose wide eyes are stricken with relief.
“Thank you for healing me yet again,” I croak.
Kylo grabs a bottle of water, unscrews the lid, and guides it to my lips. I take a few gulps, strength trickling back bit by bit.
“Don’t thank me,” Carter mutters. “You almost bled out.” He paces, agitation rolling off him. “I barely made it to you in time.”
I’ve never seen Carter look this rattled before. I didn’t realize how much he cared.
“Of course he cares,” Kylo says.
“What did she say—or think?” Carter asks, glancing between the two of us.
“Your reaction surprised her.”
Carter takes my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Try not to make a habit of this. I like having you around.”
“I’ll try to keep my blood inside my body next time. At least you’re not the one putting holes in me.” I smile softly. “Thanks for patching me up again.”
Neither of them laughs.
Tough crowd.
“Do I need stitches or anything?” I ask, trying to shake off the somber mood.
“No,” Carter says, cleaning the blood from his hands. “It’s already sealed.”
“Draven shouldn’t be able to injure you like this,” Kylo says, his eyes dark with a simmering fury.
“Elijah thinks his power is so absolute he can cause physical damage without touching you,” Carter says. “We don’t fully understand what he’s capable of.”
“Tell us what happened,” Kylo demands.
“He tried to find my location, but failed. I found his instead.”
“Where?” Carter asks.
“A beach.”
“Which beach?” Kylo asks.
“Carmel-by-the-Sea.”
“Does that place have any significance to him?” Carter presses.
“It’s where Mom used to take us as kids. The place we visited without Joaquin. I don’t know why Draven would choose it. It should be the last place he’d ever go.”
“Maybe that’s exactly why,” Carter says thoughtfully. “It’s the last place anyone would think to look.”
I stare at the floor, my thoughts racing.
Out of everything he could’ve built in his mind… why that beach?
“It means something to him,” Kylo says.
Carter looks between us, baffled. “What was that? I left my mind-reading adapter at home.”
I stifle a small laugh at Carter’s mild irritation. “When Draven drags me into his subconscious, it’s always Carmel—but warped. Like he took the memory and rotted it from the inside out.”
“Are you sure that’s the correct location?” Carter asks.
“I would know that beach anywhere.” My eyes fall to my hands, feeling the phantom weight of a plastic shovel.
“That’s the beach?” Kylo asks, his voice dropping to a low register. “The one I saw? The sandcastles?”
“Yeah,” I say softly.
“I’m sorry, Lia.”
“Don’t be,” I whisper. “You didn’t know.”
“I have no idea what you two are talking about, but I think that’s my cue to leave.” Carter squeezes my hand one last time before standing. “I’m glad you’re alive, Little Lockhart.”
He turns toward the door. “I’ll pass this information on to Elijah, and we’ll come up with a plan. You two need some rest. I’ll fill you in once we know more.” He pauses at the threshold. “You did well, Lia. Except for the part where you almost got yourself killed.”
I can’t help it. A small spark of pride flickers.
For once, I beat Draven at his own game.
“You did,” Kylo mutters, jaw clenched. “But it nearly cost you your life.”
“What’s wrong?”
He shoves a hand through his messy hair, pacing. “You test my sanity.”
“I test your sanity?”
He exhales, the breath sounding as though it’s been trapped in him for days. “You really have no idea.”
My thumb glides over his knuckles. “Then tell me.”
He taps my forehead. “You live so deep in here that you fail to see what’s right in front of you.”
“Isn’t that the point?” I ask. “To block everything out?”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. You disappear, and the rest of us are left trying to reach someone who isn’t there.”
“That’s not true,” I murmur. “I feel everything.”
“No,” he says. “You feel for everyone, but you don’t let yourself feel with anyone. You shut people out without realizing it. Do you have any idea what it did to me, watching you bleed out, writhing in pain?”
I open my mouth to speak, but everything I’m feeling tangles on my tongue.
“My heart stopped. I thought I lost you.” He pauses, his gaze locking onto mine. “You’d risk your life for everyone else, but you won’t fight for your own. You act like your life doesn’t matter. Not the way it matters to me.”
The last of my restraint unravels.
“I love you.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it—stunned into a rare silence. What feels like an eternity passes before he speaks. “You shouldn’t.”
“Try telling that to my heart.”
“I’m not a good man, Lia. I’ve spent years killing hunters. I didn’t spare anyone—not even the ones who swore they didn’t have a choice.” He swallows. “I stopped asking who deserved it a long time ago.”
“Kylo, look at me.” I place my hand on his cheek. “I feel everything you try to hide, and I still choose you.”
“You deserve better than what I can give. A life far beyond all of this.” He motions vaguely to the room. “I don’t continue after this is over. Not after the amount of blood I’ve shed.”
“You’re wrong. You, of all people, deserve a life outside of this war.”
Why can’t he see himself the way I see him?
“I was stuck in the same mechanical motions. Wake up, kill, eat, sleep, and repeat. I never saw an end to it. Not until I met you.”
He lets out a short, pained sound that almost passes for a laugh. “Falling for you was never the plan. I loathed myself for it. You were a distraction I couldn’t afford. I had one goal: end the Aether Hunters.”
“What was supposed to come after?”
“Nothing.”
“How can you lecture me about not valuing my own life when you don’t care about your own?”
“You’re more than this war,” he insists, his eyes burning into mine. “You’re more than me.”
“I love you, Kylo,” I repeat. “Nothing you say about your past is going to change that.”
“Fuck.” He tips his head back, staring at the ceiling. “You don’t understand what you do to me. I don’t let people close. I never have, but you found a way in anyway.”
I finally see it—the impenetrable wall around his heart. A prison he’s lived in for years.
He steps closer, his eyes blazing with a raw intensity. “If something were to happen to you…” He shakes his head.