Chapter 29 Tealeaf #2
“Oh, thank the gods.” The relief in her voice was so visceral it hurt.
“Mel, I tried calling you like five times, and it kept going to voicemail. Then I tried calling Kian, but it just kept ringing. I got Amy’s keys and tracked your last location.
” She paused, and I could hear the shakiness underneath her words.
“I found your phone. It’s completely destroyed, just…
shattered on the sidewalk. I’m about halfway to Kian’s now. What the hell happened?”
Guilt crashed over me.
“I’m so sorry,” I sighed. “It’s a long story involving another kidnapping attempt. I will explain everything tomorrow. I’m safe, I promise. Kian saved me.”
“Another attempt?” Her voice was tight with fear and fury. “Mel, what the fuck?” She broke off, and I heard her take a shaky breath. “You’re really okay? You’re not hurt?”
“I’m okay. Scraped up, but okay.”
“Scraped up,” she repeated. “Right. Because that’s so much better.” Another breath, this one steadier. “Okay. Okay, you’re safe. That’s what matters. But Mel, we are talking about this tomorrow. With coffee. A LOT of coffee.”
“Okay,” I whispered, smiling.
“I’m heading home now,” she sighed. “But you text me first thing in the morning, understand? First thing. I don’t care if it’s six AM. Love you, pendeja. Don’t ever scare me like that again!”
“I promise. I love you too.”
“And Professor—” Her tone became protective and fierce. “You take care of my best friend, or I will find you.”
Kian chuckled. “I will. You have my word.”
After we hung up, I stood there holding his phone.
“She cares about you very much,” Kian mused.
I nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in my throat as I passed his phone back to him, guilt settling in my gut.
Luz had been driving around in the dark, searching for me, imagining the worst. The weight of everything was crashing back like an avalanche, bringing a wave of fresh tears to my eyes.
Kian must have seen it in my face. “How are you feeling?”
I sighed. For a moment, I considered smoothing it over, saying I was fine like I always did. But I didn’t have the energy to put on the mask.
“Tired,” I admitted. “Sore. Overwhelmed.”
The words started coming faster, spilling out in a rush I couldn’t control.
“Ekklesia has my mother. I almost got kidnapped again. There’s a cursed death coin in my pocket that I can’t throw away. Amy’s still trapped in that hospital bed being drained, Xavier’s in the same condition, and I’m supposed to somehow become a goddess—”
I pressed my bandaged hands to my face, feeling the gauze rough against my skin.
“And the worst part?” The words came out strangled. “I’m already remembering. It’s happening whether I want it or not. So I have to keep going, have to awaken, because staying mortal isn’t safe. But that’s exactly what Cyrus wants, and I can’t stop it.”
The tears came hot and fast, blurring my vision. I sank against the counter, all the adrenaline and fear and exhaustion catching up at once like a wave I couldn’t fight anymore.
“It’s a lot, Kian. It’s too much. I don’t know how to—” I hesitated, choking on the wave of emotions hitting me. “I don’t know if I can do this. Any of this. I’m just… I’m just a college student who can’t even reach the tea without help. How am I supposed to save anyone?”
The tears came without permission. I was breaking, all the pieces I’d been struggling to hold together crumbled.
Wordlessly, Kian stepped forward, his hand brushing mine as he took the tea tin from my white-knuckled grip. He refilled my mug with fresh hot water, made one for himself, and then he guided me back to the couch with that unyielding steadiness of his, one hand on my lower back.
I sank into the cushions with a sigh that came from somewhere deep, my whole body finally admitting how much everything hurt—the wounds, yes, but also the fear, the responsibility, the impossible weight of expectations I didn’t know how to meet.
Kian crouched down in front of me, carefully rolling up the torn leg of my jeans to check the bandage on my calf. His fingers were gentle, grazing my skin, but I felt every point of contact like electricity.
The intimacy of the action, him kneeling before me, tending my wounds with such focused care, made my chest ache in ways that had nothing to do with injury. This immortal god, this king of the underworld, on his knees before me to check that my bandages were secure.
“You don’t have to carry all of that at once,” he said, smoothing the bandage one more time before his hand lingered on my ankle. He sat up straighter to examine the injury to my forearm next.
I glanced down at this impossible man kneeling at my feet. “It kind of feels like I do.”
He was quiet as he finished his inspection. He rose and sat beside me on the couch, close enough that our thighs touched, and for me to feel his comforting warmth along my side.
“You’re not alone in this, Melanie,” he stated firmly. “Not now. Not ever again. Whatever comes—training with Hecate, fighting Cyrus, rescuing your mother, saving Amy—you won’t face it by yourself. I swear it.”
He turned to face me, taking my bandaged hand in both of his. “I’ve lost you nineteen times across three thousand years.” His voice went rough. “I won’t lose you again. Whatever it takes. Whatever I have to do.”
His words settled in my chest, filling some cracked part of me I hadn’t realized was still broken and bleeding. I set my mug aside on the side table and leaned my head against his shoulder. His arm came around me, anchoring me to the world when I felt like I might drift away.
For a while, neither of us spoke. I listened to the rhythm of his breathing, the steady thump of his heart where my ear pressed against his chest. It was a sound that drowned out all the fears crowding my mind.
The fire had dimmed to a soft glow in the hearth, painting the room in shades of amber and shadow. Bran, Vex, and Duska were curled together by the dying flames, a tangle of fur and quiet breathing. Even they sensed the quiet, the need for rest.
My eyelids grew heavy. I told myself I’d close them for a minute, then I’d get up, go to the guest room, let him have his space back. But his heartbeat was so steady, his warmth so enveloping. The weight of his arm around me felt so perfectly right, and I was so tired.
“You’re falling asleep,” Kian murmured, his voice rumbling through his chest into my ear. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from my face, his touch featherlight.
I gave the barest shake of my head, not bothering to sit up or open my eyes. “‘M not sleeping. Just resting. Eyes closed. Big difference.”
He huffed a soft laugh, warm breath stirring my hair. “Of course. My mistake, Tealeaf.”
Even half-asleep, the nickname made something flutter in my chest.
The next thing I registered—sometime later, could have been minutes or hours, time going soft and strange—was the feeling of being lifted. Strong arms sliding beneath my knees and shoulders, cradling me securely against a broad chest.
My arm curled instinctively around his neck, fingers finding the soft hair at his nape. He held me close, careful of my injuries, his heartbeat steady against my cheek.
“You don’t have to carry me,” I mumbled, my lips quirking into a smile.
“You carried enough tonight, Tealeaf,” he whispered back. “Let me carry you.”
My throat went tight with emotion. I pressed my face into the curve of his neck, hiding how those simple words had unraveled me.
He walked through the flat to the guest room. He lowered me onto the bed, his warmth lingering where he held me. As he turned to go, panic spiked through me. The thought of being alone in the dark with everything still looming—
I reached out before I could stop myself and caught his wrist, my fingers finding the six small marks that matched my own.
“Kian.”
He paused, turning back, eyes meeting mine in the dim light from the hallway. Surprise flickered across his face, then softened into something tender and questioning. I swallowed hard, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Stay?” The word came out smaller than I meant, almost a whisper. I couldn’t finish, couldn’t articulate the fear of darkness, nightmares, and waking up alone. But I didn’t need to.
For a beat, he didn’t move. He stood there processing the request. Then, wordlessly, he nodded. He stretched out beside me on top of the covers, leaving just enough space between us that I could close it if I wanted to.
I curled against his side with a contented sigh. He held me close, his hand smoothing along my spine. My head found the hollow of his shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
“Thank you,” I murmured, already half-asleep, words slurring together.
I felt more than heard his response—the shift of his body, the way his lips lingered against my hair.
“Always,” he whispered.
A half-delirious thought struck me through the fog of almost-sleep, and I managed to mumble against his chest, “Can’t believe I lost my phone in the whole kidnapping debacle. So… inconvenient.”
Kian’s chest rumbled with quiet laughter, the sound vibrating through me in the most comforting way. “I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to spend money on—”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he repeated, and I heard the fear beneath the words. “Hell, I’ll buy you the whole damn store if it means you can always reach me.”
The fierceness in his voice made my chest tight.
“That’s excessive,” I giggled.
“I’m the God of Wealth, Tealeaf. I can afford it,” he responded. I could hear the grin in his voice. I let out a laugh, pressing my face harder into his chest, breathing him in.
“Just one phone is fine. Promise.”
I grinned even as sleep pulled me under. Wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat, I slipped into peaceful dreams.