Chapter 96 #2
He’s doing something I’m not sure I’ve ever had the chance to do for her myself.
I don’t battle the envy that pounds into my gut. Instead, I feel the strike. Feel my breath sputter from the force of it. Because with that envy, there’s another emotion nesting beside it, gently holding its hand.
Gratitude.
He’s here, embracing her, eyes brimming with a wealth of protective adoration. He’s loving her with such force the world is wrecking around them.
And I realize, quite suddenly, that our daughter found her great love before we even found her. That in the time I’ve been gone or lost in the unknowing—in the time Kaan has spent believing Kyzari is the daughter of his brother—she’s outgrown her youth.
We missed it. Every little bit.
It was taken from us—from her beautiful, big-hearted pah—and we’ll never get that back.
It’s with that thought that I break, chest cracking as I move farther forward. With it, Clode’s song sputters from my lips, her shield dissipating so fast I expect to be immediately tossed through the sky.
I’m not.
Even at her strongest, she was no match for the billowing surge that barely bolsters in her absence. Meaning I was charging forward by the force of my own desire to be close to Kyzari.
Another step, and I’m almost in reaching distance of—
Him.
Almost close enough to lift a hand and brush my fingers across the billowy membrane of his magnificent silver wings, just to the left of where they protrude from between his shoulder blades.
I don’t ask his name. Don’t need to when it somehow echoes through me.
Caelis.
But at such close proximity, I notice he’s not quite whole, seeing Kyzari through him when I focus hard enough—her eyes closed, cheek pressed against his chest.
Those silver ribbons streaming from the stone on her forehead are actively stitching Caelis into existence …
Frowning, I meet his eyes again.
The world around us loses shape, smell, sound, leaving only two startling silver orbs reminiscent of Moonplume moons. Making me feel as though I’m suspended somewhere between the ones still left in the sky, alone in the hollow of a silent blackness that feels eternal.
A part of him I can’t see—can barely sense—eases forward and gently blurs the lines between us, exploring my soul, peeking through its deepest, darkest corners. Parts of me I certainly haven’t taken the time to explore or straight up ignored.
Purposefully.
He mulls over some areas, like flicking through a dusty tome that’s piqued his interest; is delicate with other, more tender parts. So careful not to cause me any pain or discomfort that I ache to weep.
It’s like being unpackaged from a box, everything lifted, peered through, bound in a soft cloth and set back down again. And although I should feel intruded on—too seen—neither of those feelings come.
Because as he’s reading me, he’s also feeding me verses of himself.
Of a loneliness more endless than the sky; of a crushing, mincing, hacking pain like nothing I thought imaginable, yet somehow paling in comparison to the deep sense of betrayal that’s wedged between his ribs.
Coming to my intention, he pauses, passing me glimpses of his vast and unfathomable love for my daughter—like he’s aligning the two, weighing them—before he retreats the same way he came. Gently and without pain, leaving a quiet sense of … permission.
I heave breath as the world comes back into horrific, imploding shape, tears streaming.
Heart pulped.
I dip my head in silent gratitude, but don’t let the moment linger, fearing that if I do he’ll change his mind, decide I’m unworthy, and toss me off the mountain.
My step forward is immediate, through him.
Straight into Kyzari’s arms.
She gasps, tipping her head to look at me. Startling blue eyes that catch my heart and cradle it, hauling a whimper up my throat.
She stops singing. Stops breathing.
Doesn’t so much as blink as Caelis plumes back within the stone, eradicating the strange clamor, leaving us encased in a frigid silence that frightens me to the core.
Despite it, I hold her with every ounce of my being, one hand flat between her shoulders, the other coming up to touch the side of her face—mended.
Healthy.
Alive.
“You’re here,” she chokes, searching my eyes with such frenzy I’m sure she’s hunting for something in them, I just wish I knew what. Wish I knew her tells and quirks—anything about her. “You came.”
I open my mouth, close it. Struggle to find the right words to speak to this beautiful, grown female who’s looking at me like I shaped the world hand in hand with the Creators.
I didn’t.
All she’s had from me is a lark telling her to shore up when she no doubt needed me the most.
I look at Kaan’s málmr still strung around her neck, swallow, lift my gaze again.
Failing to think of something more delicate to say, I decide to go with the cold, painful truth …
because she’s not a youngling I need to keep things from, masking ugly realities with pretty words. She’s a grown adult, and we missed it.
We missed it all.
“I wish I got here sooner,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over her brow in a way I’m certain I’ve done before.
Her eyes widen, tracing the motion of my hand. Aside from that, she’s motionless. So still I wonder if she’s forgotten to breathe. My thought is confirmed when her eyes roll into the back of her head, and she faints, crumbling.
But I catch her.
For perhaps the first time since I brought her into this world over a hundred phases ago … I catch her.