Chapter 8 Kieran
KIERAN
The following morning broke quietly, soft golden sunlight stretching across the walls as my eyes opened.
My head rose and fell with Steele’s chest beneath my cheek, his hand curved over my thigh where it crossed over his, holding me possessively, even in sleep.
Gabe lay behind me, his arm draped around my waist, breath steady and warm against my neck.
A smile tugged at my lips at the memories from the night before that floated through my mind.
The way Steele and Gabe had fallen into such a possessive dynamic with me, but without butting heads about it, genuinely took me by surprise. I’d been waiting for what felt like so long to see if Steele could accept what I needed and wanted, but truthfully I wasn’t sure it would ever happen.
Yesterday had been its own kind of healing in the quiet moments with my guys. My fingers had splayed across Steele’s chest drew small circles on his skin as I bit my lip.
When we finally managed to leave the bed, Steele pulled me into the shower and washed my body and hair, despite me telling him I’d already done so earlier that morning.
After a back and forth, I’d quickly given up and allowed him to simply take care of me.
It was a tender moment that had taken me by surprise and left me feeling like I was on top of the world when we finished.
When I returned, there was another plate of food with a note that caused me to blush from Ronan and Niz.
It said they heard every bit of what occurred and to replenish my strength, because there was another needy duo that was ready to worship me.
After grabbing a pen from my desk, I wrote them a note back on the backside of the paper that told them if they kept being good boys, that I could allow that.
After that, I added a more serious section about asking them to get a message out to gather our important allies for a meeting mid-morning the next day, to discuss next steps.
I ate half of the food before sleep claimed me early in the evening, exhaustion and satisfaction twining together inside of me. At one point, I swore I’d be roused from sleep by a kiss from Bastian, but by the time I’d opened my eyes, there was no one there besides Gabe and Steele curled around me.
I hadn’t expected to sleep the majority of the day, but it seemed my body had been through too much in too little time—death, resurrection, and the aftermath that followed.
But waking now to the weight of them beside me, I felt, for the first time in days, almost normal.
I eased free from their tangle of limbs, earning a low grunt from Steele before one eye cracked open to glance at me.
I couldn’t help but admire him–buzzed hair, silver eyes catching the light, and tattoos winding across his skin.
A black moth stretched in ink at the center of his chest. Everything about him carried an intensity that drew me in like a moth to the flame.
Yet with me, that sharpness he carried eased, allowing me to see the softer, tender side of him that made me feel so lucky.
A small chuckle rumbled through my chest as I thought back to when we’d fallen into the rebel army camp and he hadn’t hesitated to hold a dagger to me. We’d come so far since then. Now he was the one killing the angel who dared drag a dagger across my throat. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
Gabe had already rolled away, lost to deeper sleep as I shimmied to the end of the bed and stood.
“Getting up already, Princess?” Steele asked, his voice still rough with sleep as he eyed the clock on the side table. “I would’ve thought we wore you out. Besides, the meeting isn’t for another few hours.”
I offered him a small, guilty smile before a soft laugh escaped me. “You did, but I’ve slept enough. I’ll sleep more when I’m dead.”
His soft gaze immediately sharpened. “That is not a funny joke, Princess.”
A pang of sadness echoed through my chest as I gave him a light shrug. “If I don’t make jokes, I’ll cry, and I don’t think anyone wants that.”
Brutal, but true.
Before he could retort, I blew him a kiss and headed to the bathroom to start my morning ritual.
After washing up, I pulled on one of my old training uniforms I’d left behind in the house.
The white leather felt almost symbolic—a reminder of the mold I’d once been forced to fit before the Rebellion.
I braided my damp hair down my back, took one last look in the mirror, and stepped into the bedroom.
Steele was gone now, but Gabe still slept peacefully.
I slipped from the room and made my way down the stairs, the house quiet despite how full of people it was. I didn’t know where everyone ended up sleeping, but on the second floor alone there were three bedrooms, not including mine. They must have split up somehow.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I found Bastian in the kitchen.
He was barefoot and wearing only a pair of black sweats, with his eyes firmly on the floor.
I noticed a cup of coffee cooling beside him, seemingly half-forgotten.
One hand dragged through his hair while the other traced an absent rhythm on the counter.
“Morning,” I said softly, drawing his attention.
His head snapped up, the motion sharp like I’d spooked him from deep thoughts.
Strands of split-colored hair—black on one side, white on the other—fell across his brow, the tips flaring a violent crimson as his eyes met mine.
For a moment, both eyes burned a golden hue before bleeding into deep crimson.
“Morning, Darling,” he drawled, the grin he gave me tight around the edges, like he was forcing himself into his humorous and light-hearted side.
The grin didn’t quite reach his eyes as he joked, “Didn’t think I’d see you upright so soon after what I heard last night.
Do you need a cup of coffee or maybe a pack of ice?
I couldn’t tell if your cries were of pleasure or pain at times.
It was quite interesting to play a guessing game with Niz. ”
I rolled my eyes good-naturedly and waved him off, refusing to let any embarrassment or shame fill me. I’d made it clear that I wanted them all and I’d remain confident in that as relationships progressed.
“Guess I’m just built to take more than you think,” I teased, stepping closer and gently transitioning. “You look like you haven’t slept.”
He laughed once, sharp and humorless. “Hard to sleep when I keep seeing you with your throat open and bleeding out every time I close my eyes.”
The words landed hard in my chest. There was no joke about my blood being wasted, or someone else getting access to it…just the heavy thought of my loss.
I started to speak, but he wasn’t finished.
“When you fell,” he said, voice rough, “it was like something tore me open from the inside. Every breath I took hurt, knowing you weren’t doing the same. All I could feel was a rage that had nowhere to go.”
His lips turned down as he looked away, fingers digging into the counter until his knuckles went white.
“Bash—” I started to say, but then closed my mouth.
What words could I use to remove that memory and feeling from him? There were none. All of us would have to figure out how to live with it and move forward, in our own ways. All I wanted was for him to allow me to be there to support him as he figured that out.
Suddenly he closed the distance between us. His hand hovered near my throat, not quite touching yet, but trembling there.
“Right there,” he whispered, finally brushing the tips of his fingers over my throat.
“That’s where he cut you and took your life, and every time I go to touch you, I think…
” his breath shuddered, his eyes wild and desperate as he let out a heavy exhale.
“Stars, it makes me want to tear the world apart for letting it happen.”
My heart beat wildly at his admission. None of this was any of their faults and I hated that he was carrying such an immense burden, unjustly.
“You don’t have to destroy the world for me,” I whispered, pressing my palm to his chest as his hand dropped to his side. “I’m here. I’m with you. The magic within me and the Star Keepers’ energy healed me.”
“I know,” he quickly answered, voice cracking. “I just fear that if we allowed it to happen once, that it could happen again. That there’s nothing I can do to protect you, truly…that for all the power at my disposal, it’s still not enough.”
The ache in his voice squeezed at my heart, pulling back up my anger at my father. At the Archangels. At Alfemir for allowing this world to even get to the point in which we were.
None of this needed to happen. Yet jealousy, power struggles, and mindless warpaths landed all of our unfortunate souls in this part of history. All we could do was bear it and push forward, knowing we were making actionable changes to alter the history books to come.
I blinked up at him, letting my confidence bleed through every word.
“That’s how I feel about all of you. About every life that depends on the stars not falling.
None of our safety is guaranteed, and for some time, the weight of that prophecy felt like a heavy burden to carry.
” His hand came up to grip my hip, squeezing lightly as I continued.
“But now I let it be the hope that propels me forward, because there is a chance to save everyone, and that chance is one I will fight every day for. We can’t let ourselves be weighed down by the negative what-ifs or we’ll never achieve our dreams.”
His heartbeat pounded beneath my palm, fast and erratic as he cleared his throat and blinked at me. “I told you your death was horrible for my nerves. I fear I may have an unhealthy obsession with you, Darling–it smothers all rationale and logic.”