Kiara
Present
I slowly open my eyes, darkness all around me, disrupted by moonlight coming into the room through the French window.
Did I fall asleep?
Adrien’s arms are still wrapped around my waist, and his face is buried in the pillow beside me. My gaze drifts to Kasien instead.
He’s now only in his boxers. He must have taken off his clothes when I was asleep. I get it, I’m literally sweating, but I can’t just take my clothes off like him.
I can’t take my eyes off his body. He’s so much bigger.
He used to be lean and muscular, but now he’s huge.
His body is tight and sculpted, but not that pumped up as those gym rats.
He’s still lean, everything about him is just darker, bigger, colder.
My eyes automatically fall to the dark and thick trail of hair, leading down into his… Oh God, stop Kiara.
“Is he okay?” I whisper softly.
He barely moves, his hand still on Adrien’s neck. He must have been awake this whole time. But it’s still dark, so I guess it can’t be more than four or five in the morning.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispers.
His voice is so soft when he’s whispering.
However, sleeping is the last thing on my mind now. This night was too crazy, I guess my body overpowered me for a moment, but I don’t feel tired anymore.
The last few hours replay in my head. I wasn’t even supposed to be out of my suite, but something about that sound—it broke through everything. The sobbing and gagging.
When I saw him on the floor, my heart stopped. The way his skin was cold, his hair plastered to his forehead. For a moment, I thought he’d been shot.
But there was no wound, no blood pouring on the floor. Just pills scattered everywhere. I don’t even know why I cried so much. Adrien is quite something. Maybe it’s because he’s the only one who talks to me like he genuinely likes me and tries to make me laugh in this hell.
When I saw him like that, it felt like watching the last light go out.
There’s something about him. Something broken in the same shape as me. Maybe that’s why I feel this pull, this bond with him. More like recognition. Like we’re both built from the same kind of damage.
I guess falling for one of the Varner siblings does that to you.
When I saw Kasien—the way he held him, the way his voice cracked when he begged him to breathe—it was like watching a ghost flicker back to life.
That was him. That was my Kasien.
The one who used to have fire in his chest instead of ash. Finally, I saw the man I thought was gone.
I was terrified that he was going to lose him. And somehow, I realized that maybe, Adrien is the only thing keeping Kasien still himself. As much as I wish it could be me, I’m just glad he still has someone to keep him from turning to stone completely.
“So,” I start, hoping that the atmosphere of tonight’s events softened him enough to have an actual conversation with me. “Are you in the Vermilion?”
“Yes,” he whispers, looking down as if he’s ashamed.
“Was your father—”
“He was never my father,” he interrupts me.
“Was Mr. Varner the head of the organization?” I keep going, feeling I might finally get the answers I was looking for, to understand him better.
“No, he was just a stupid pawn. Masochistic, cruel dummy,” he explains quietly, looking in front of him as if he’s lost in his head.
“Was it Mrs. Varner then?” I ask.
He stays quiet for a moment, still zoned out at the same spot, gulping. Then he just turns to me, his eyes soft, glistening, apologetic. My heart skips a beat and warmth spills over my chest. I want to hug him. I feel my body leaning a bit toward him. But his jaw clenches, so I stop and look away.
“Does that mean—” I really shouldn’t be asking him this, but I just need to know—“that you are the head of Vermilion now?”
He drops his eyes back into his lap, looking ashamed and broken.
Oh God. He is.
“Unfortunately, only in this city,” he answers.
Something suddenly hits me.
“Myortvets,” I whisper.
He shoots me a shocked look at first, then softens again, nods, and drops his eyes, looking away.
I can’t believe I had him right in front of my eyes this whole time. All those documents I got my hands on, all those weird, coded emails mentioning this word. It was all him.
“Who’s Lucien?”
“I’d love it if you had never found out who he is.” He pauses and gulps, looking nervous. “But you have to meet him in a couple of days.”
My guts turn into a knot.
“What?” I whisper-yell.
“I’m gonna need you to cooperate and just trust me.”
I frown at him and swallow the bile in my throat.
I know they saved me. I trust them. Or maybe I just want to. Either way, I don’t have a choice. No one tells me what’s coming next. Every time I ask, the silence stretches, heavy and deliberate. Whatever they’re planning, it’s something I’m not meant to know.
Maybe it’s the confinement, or maybe I’ve finally lost my mind, but since the night he took me, I can’t imagine losing him again.
For years I thought what I felt for Kasien was just an obsession.
Nostalgia dressed as purpose. But seeing him now, hearing his voice again, I know it was something else entirely.
It’s not about the past. It’s about whatever still ties us together, even after everything.
He thinks I betrayed him. And maybe I did. Maybe I deserve his silence. But I need him to know I never stopped trying to find him. That I never stopped choosing him, even when he stopped choosing me. I need him to understand. I need him to hear me out.
Sunlight spills through the tall French windows, painting Adrien’s sleeping body in pale gold. His chest rises slowly, ink and scars catching the light. Only now I notice he’s covered in tattoos entirely, scribbles lacing together from his neck to the line of his pants.
For a moment, everything is quiet.
“Kasien, I—” my voice is shaking, nervousness spreading across my face. “I really—”
“Stop, Kiara.” His voice is back to cold and deep, the softness gone, his expression void again. As if the sunlight had sealed him shut again, ending the moment when the old Kasien almost surfaced. I don’t manage to say anything anymore.
?
We lie like this in silence, another hour passing. The morning sun gets covered by black clouds immediately after it comes out. The room is now in a dim grey cover, raindrops clapping against the windows.
The space is filled with the smell of our perfumes mixed with a hint of sweat and musk. It has to be really early in the morning.
Kasien’s hand is still on Adrien, next to mine.
Not touching, just close enough that I feel little sparks crawling up my arm every time I breathe.
He didn’t let me talk, didn’t let me ask anything more, and somehow that only ties the knot tighter in my throat.
I keep swallowing down tears. But under all of it, I feel safe.
Ridiculously safe.
With both of them beside me.
It hits me—how long I’ve been lonely. How long everything felt empty and cold. And now there’s this moment—quiet, fragile, warm—sitting right in the middle of my chest. I don’t know what to do with it.
I’m so glad he found me. I just wish he would never let me go again. I’m almost jealous of Adrien. I want him to hold me like he held Adrien last night.
Like he doesn’t want to lose me again.
Adrien shifts, a low growl rumbling from his chest, snapping me out of my thoughts. Only then do I realize a tear has slipped down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away.
Without warning, Adrien yanks me closer, practically spooning me, and then he rolls to the other side, toward Kasien, dragging me with him and placing me right between them.
I gasp, my heart exploding into full panic-mode while I’m literally sandwiched between their bodies.
Did he do that on purpose? Is he awake?
Of course he is.
I can feel his smug little smile against my skin. His eyes stay shut like he’s fooling someone, but it’s definitely not me.
Kasien, on the other side, hasn’t moved at all. He’s still lying on his side, facing Adrien, facing us, while I stare straight up at the ceiling like a malfunctioning robot.
His skin is pressed against mine. He’s only in boxers. Adrien’s in black sweatpants. This is way too much.
I stay frozen, staring up, my whole body breaking into nervous heat from being tucked between them.
Earlier, I slipped back into my gym clothes, but without a bra, just an oversized T-shirt and loose sports shorts.
My right thigh rests against Kasien’s, bare skin on bare skin.
My left shoulder is pressed to Adrien’s chest. Their heads are so close I can feel both of their breaths feathering against my neck.
My chest rises and falls too fast, almost shaking.
Do they see how fucking nervous I am? Of course they do. Should I get up? Crawl back to my suite and pretend I have dignity?
I don’t want to. I never want to leave this bed.
Then Adrien moves—lifting his left hand, reaching across me, and placing it on top of Kasien’s right hand.
Holy shit. It’s happening.
He guides Kasien’s hand across my stomach, settling it right where my shirt has ridden up. Electricity shoots from that single touch through my whole body, pooling low in my core.
I glance down—both their hands on me. One scarred and ruined in the hottest way imaginable, the other smooth, veiny, inked black. Both right on my belly.
Fuck.
My breathing goes so shallow I have to part my lips just to get any air in. I still don’t move, but I don’t stop them either. Kasien’s hand stays on my stomach, heavy, warm, familiar in a way that hits me like a memory. His scars feel like his signature written on my skin.
Adrien’s hand slides off his and drifts up to Kasien’s neck, nudging him gently, guiding him closer to me, and then finally, Kasien’s lips touch my neck. I gasp at the jolt of it. His mouth trails along my skin, slow, deliberate, and then I feel his tongue—warm, soft, tasting the sweat on my neck.
And then another mouth finds the other side.
Adrien.