Chapter 49 Julien
Sai and I haven’t left the living room since Jasmine fell unconscious. She’s slept most of the day with her head cradled in my lap, and her feet upon Sai’s. Besides the occasional sound from the TV Sai turned on a few hours ago, there’s nothing but her steady breaths.
Ezekial left to find Kane, and we’re still waiting for their return. But I don’t mind the waiting, not when I hold something so precious.
Whatever Jasmine has awakened in Kane, I know it can only ever be good. Many beings fear change, but change is necessary—inevitable. And with Jasmine as our catalyst, I welcome the metamorphosis.
A loud explosion rips through the speakers and Sai mutters a sharp curse, lowering the volume as he glances warily at the side of her face.
“How much longer do you think she’ll be out?” His fingers brush over her bare calf.
“As long as she needs.”
He scoffs, slumping back in his seat again as he stares at the flickering screen. “What a typical Julien answer.”
There’s a bite in his voice, and it’s rare—Sai directing it at me—but I know this isn’t true anger. It’s worry dressed in its finest armour.
There’s only one time I can recall in which Sai was truly angry with me. The night he asked me to turn Orion.
In a past, long ago, when we were given a group of enforcer misfits to train. Technically, we’d been part of Ezekial’s unit for years by then, but neither Sai or I took our roles seriously. Not until we were handed that group.
The Chaos Crew, Sai called them.
A handful of wild, disobedient recruits who were close to being ‘expelled’. Ezekial had tossed them our way with a shrug and a challenge: Make something of them.
And somehow, we did.
They were reckless, loud, and insufferably young at times. But eventually, they listened, they learned, called us Uncle J and S. I was indifferent to the name, Sai swore he hated it, scoffing every time, but we never once stopped them saying it.
In time, they became some of the finest recruits to pass through the enforcer academy. Orion’s unit of three in particular we praised as being sharp, fearless, and loyal.
Years later, Orion’s unit was tasked with patrolling a stretch of neutral land near the necromancer border, unsettled territory rumoured to be pulsing with strange energy surges. But they never returned, and soon, we learned why.
The Necromancer King had captured the unit alive. He didn’t hide it, rather he decided to broadcast the moment with a warning: This is what happens to trespassers, he declared. A message to all who dared to enter the district no one but he could touch.
Delphine and Prospero told us we couldn’t go after them. It would be a breach of district boundaries, they said. It would be an act of war, they said. The necromancer district is too unstable, too dangerous, you’ll never survive, they said.
But Sai. Passionate, heated, loyal Sai, would never leave someone behind.
Not like he was.
We left that same night, the four of us. Enforcer unit Nimur.
We entered the Necromancer district, and we tore through it like a fire.
Even now, I still remember the scent of that wicked place, rot and insidious magic stitched together like something dead that refused to lie still.
We fought our way through the filth, we searched every building, every holding cell, every ruin leaving bodies in our path.
And when we found them, Orion was the only one still alive. Barely.
He was chained to the floor, skin flayed open, and his eyes were gone, removed. Bloody sockets were all that remained.
He didn’t speak. Not when we cut him free, not when I lifted him into my arms, not when Sai pressed their foreheads together and whispered that Uncle S was here.
We fought our way back with Orion’s blood soaking through my clothing, my armour, my skin.
And he died just before we reached the barrier.
Sai dropped to his knees, hands slick with blood, and his entire body trembled. I’ve seen him angry before, I’ve seen him wild, feral.
But this was different.
We’d trained Orion as a young man, shaped him into something strong, something worthy. He was never meant to die in the dirt, hollowed out like a doll in a place like this. He was meant to live.
At first, Sai demanded I turn him. When I refused with the soft shake of my head, he raged, flinging us into the Dark Realm. But when none of it worked, he slumped back onto his knees, and simply looked at me.
With the same eyes I saw the day I found him. Trapped in that cage, surrounded by the dark, by silence and squalor.
I didn’t turn Orion because it was the right thing to do. I turned him because Sai looked exactly like he did the day I chose to save him.
Desperate. Furious. But mostly, afraid.
I turned Orion on that rotten soil as my brothers fought and slayed any being that tried to interfere. Then we left that district in ruins.
And the proclaimed Necromancy war never came. Perhaps the King saw what we were capable of and decided that even he, king of the dead, wasn’t quite ready to face our wrath.
“Sai,” I say gently, breaking away from the sordid memory as his eyes meet mine, “she will be fine.”
He nods at my words, but I know he doesn’t really hear them.
Sai always needs proof, tangible answers, most likely in the form of Jasmine waking up and telling him herself.
And though the circumstances are far from the same as with Orion, the look in his eyes is familiar. That barely-contained panic beneath all the bravado. That helpless, clawing edge of fear he never lets surface unless he thinks someone he truly cares for is in danger.
I drag my fingers slowly through Jasmine’s hair, the soft strands part like silk, soothing her, but mostly myself. Because I don’t show my emotions as easily as Sai. His fear hides behind a mask of sarcasm and anger, a sharp tongue and sharper eyes.
Mine sits behind a facade of calm. Only I see the tremor in my fingers as they run through her hair.
We’re not ready to say it aloud, but we’re both scared. The rune has changed again, more of it burned away meaning more of her has been let through. We all felt it in that moment, a subtle shift, a spike in the air, a ripple through the bond.
We feel her more now, the hum stronger than ever. But Kane feels so much more. Possibly more than he ever has.
A demon suddenly gaining the ability to feel—some might call that cruel. Sadistic, even. Especially for a man like Kane whose mind is littered with horrors. Whose heart was trained to never acknowledge them.
I didn’t blame him for leaving, it was a response ingrained in Kane from a young age, but I wish he had stayed.
“You know what I’m like with waiting,” Sai suddenly mutters, biting the side of his thumb. “And who knows what the fuck Kane is doing out there. If Zeek doesn’t find him—”
“He will. He’ll be fine, Sai.”
Despite what was done to Sai, despite the loss he experienced and trauma he has from spending years trapped alone in a cage, Sai knows how to love.
Deeply. Devotedly. And he is so loyal to those he does.
To me, the brothers. Orion. And now Jasmine.
My eyes flicker to the shadow that’s begun to shift beside the window just before Kane emerges. He enters without a word, shadows dripping away from his body like oil as he stares at Jasmine.
Ezekial enters moments later, loosening his tie and nodding at me, then Sai, before the shadows slink back to the corners of the room.
“She’s fine,” I offer, before either ask. “Still sleeping.”
Kane moves closer, grasping the edge of the coffee table and moving it to the very edge of the sofa. Close enough to touch her if he dared, but he doesn’t. His eyes dart over her sleeping frame, her face, my fingers threaded in her hair, and then Sai’s hand upon her leg.
I glance at Ezekial and Sai, before facing Kane. “How are you feeling, my friend?”
He doesn’t reply, doesn’t get a chance to.
“Yes, Mr. Mine,” Sai jumps in, voice sharper than ever. “How are you feeling?”
He truly has no tact. And, normally, I loved him for it. But maybe not right now.
“I could feel her so strongly,” Kane murmurs suddenly, ignoring Sai for a moment.
Then he finally looks at us. “I could feel you all, through her. I’ve never felt emotions like that.
The intensity, the range. Some I don’t think I’ve ever had before.
” He runs a hand through his hair, gaze dropping.
“Now I understand how she felt—feeling all of us, all the time—it was… overwhelming. Your want, your need, they were so strong they twisted into… something else.”
“You were scared,” I say, seeing it in his eyes, in the tightness of his jaw. “And it made you—”
“Turn into a possessive asshole,” Sai adds.
No. Tact.
“Mate, we’re all possessive,” Sai continues casually, shadows surging at his words as he gestures to the sleeping goddess in our laps. “Possession isn’t the problem.”
“That’s a totally healthy outlook,” Ezekial mumbles dryly.
Sai stays focused on Kane. “You just need to learn how to share.”
Kane stares at him, but his expression is unreadable. That look could mean death, or surrender.
“I can… share,” Kane says, eventually.
Sai stares, open-mouthed, as a disbelieving laugh slips out. “Mate, you can’t even say it.”
“I can share,” Kane repeats, but he doesn’t sound quite sure.
“Really?” Sai glances down at his hand, still resting over Jasmine’s calf. “Because you keep looking at my fingers like you’re going to bite them off.”
Kane’s gaze shifts immediately to the floor.
“Zeek, please tell me you two have… y’know. That you’ve shared before,” Sai asks, blocking Kane from the internal conversation.
Ezekial undoes his top button. “Not… exactly.”
Sai glances at me, eyes wide, before turning back to Ezekial. “And what the fuck does that mean?”
“We’ve watched together, but never… together.”
Sai makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat before dropping the mental conversation. “This is a disaster. Just picture it, we’re all there, together with our girl, then bang—shadow rips your dick off.”
Kane scowls, disgusted. “I wouldn’t touch your dick.” Sai scoffs. “But maybe your hands…”
Sai stares, mouth open with a half-laugh mixed with shock. “Did you just… is Mr-Feels-A-Lot making jokes now?” Sai looks between us all, but not one of us knows quite what to say.
“I can share,” Kane suddenly mutters to no one in particular, back to watching Jasmine’s leg.
“Where was he?” I ask Ezekial as the room settles in silence.
“The house,” he answers, opening the drink cabinet. “In the room where they slept together.”
Sai winces, closing one eye. “Shit. Now I feel bad.”
Ezekial pours a glass and passes it to Kane who holds it in his hand, but doesn’t drink.
“She’s stronger than we thought,” Kane murmurs, breaking the quiet,
I frown, waiting for more, but when he doesn’t continue, I look to Ezekial instead.
“I know we’ve briefly discussed her age before.” Ezekial removes his glasses, rubbing his scar with the edge of his palm. “But now Kane is able to feel Jasmine’s power, feel how strong she is… how old it is.”
My gaze snaps to Kane, no longer willing to be patient. He must sense it, maybe due to his new ability to feel, because he looks straight at me and says, “She’s at least a hundred.”
“Fuck.” Sai’s voice echoes in the silence. “Are you sure?”
Kane nods, eyes sweeping back to Jasmine’s face.
One hundred years, and we’ve only just found her.
“Her darkness is powerful enough that it’s stopped her aging, but not enough for immortality?” I glance at both brothers, eager for their thoughts.
Ezekial is the only one that looks back. “Kane thinks it could be the rune. That it could be interfering, maybe reducing her power.”
“Or…” I begin, knowing it will cause a reaction. “Jasmine is immortal, and the rune is hiding it.” Kane’s eyes snap to mine as I clarify for everyone. “The rune is either stopping her becoming immortal, or hiding the fact she already is.”
His dark eyes bore into me until slowly, he nods in agreement.
“Fuck,” Sai mutters. “Well, we have to tell her, and we need to make it damn clear we’ve just found out. I don’t want her to think we’ve kept this from her.”
“I should’ve seen it sooner.” Kane’s voice is quiet and contemplative, but there’s guilt buried there. “Her control of the dark is perfect.”
He doesn’t elaborate with words, instead, he shares a memory.
Kane has never shared memories so easily before, always in fragments, like film with the edges burnt. Now, it’s so clear, it’s like we’re stood inside of it.
The mole, Lucanus, is thrown in the Dark Realm and when Kane follows, he sees Jasmine—towering in shadow.
Controlling the rippling veil of darkness with the soft flick of her fingers as if it belonged to her.
Then Kane moves closer, we see her burning eyes ruptured with black, we feel the shadows wrapping around him, both of them.
Protecting. Listening. Obeying without words.
“She’s always been able to control it,” he says as the memory softly melts away. “I thought she needed training, but she doesn’t. The rune is affecting her ability to control it. It’s stopping our bond from fully completing. It’s hindering everything.”
I count to three in my head, keep my breath held inside a little longer before slowly letting it out. Ease the rage bubbling inside because there’s no one but ourselves to direct it at.
“But now,” I say, twisting that anger into a burning certainty we all need. “We know how to break it.”
Kane looks up at me, and there are so many emotions in that one look, confirmation, hope, fear. I don’t need to be an empath to know we all feel it.
I look back at Jasmine, and silence descends upon us. Because not one of us is brave enough to admit the truth festering inside our chests.
We’re scared.
Jasmine only knows the life she’s been allowed to remember—five years, beginning outside the Council barrier, surrounded by strangers, then the few months with us.
But soon, when she wakes, she’ll learn the truth we’ve uncovered.
That what Ezekial wiped from her mind wasn’t a few decades, it was lifetimes. That there are pieces of herself she’s never even known to mourn. That the rune hasn’t just bound her power, that it’s either keeping her from becoming immortal, or suppressing the truth that she already is.
We don’t speak again, not for a long time, because fear takes many forms. And in this moment, it is us—four men gathered close, disciples in the light of a star they can’t believe they’ve found.