52. Chapter Fifty-Two

This conversation was inevitable, and I had known it was coming.

Anticipated it for months now, really, and so I had already prepared myself, mapping out the artful disclosures and side-steps where I would reveal just enough to sate her curiosity without dropping the mask… without putting her at risk.

“I’m so sorry, Kieran…” she whispered, her fingertips brushing against my arm in gentle reassurance. She still had no idea how those slight touches set me on fire, every time.

“Don’t be.”

We were both silent for several minutes, not a sound between us besides the soft crunch of gravel beneath our feet as we continued our walk, passing through the local gardens. I took several deep breaths, attempting to still my mind before giving her the bare minimum. Hoping it would be enough.

“My mother died when I was very young. I barely knew her. I had a rough childhood, but things got better when my adoptive father took me in. I had been alone for a long time, fending for myself for the most part… And then he came along, bringing in my older brother as well. For a long time after that, things were good. We were all very close, for many years.”

I could feel her eyes fixed on me, but couldn’t dare meet that gaze. I knew the minute I glanced back at her, I would be tempted to bare my soul in front of those honest, golden eyes. There was something about her trust—the steadfast loyalty she had shown me as a friend…

I always wanted to give Arken so much more than what I was actually capable of offering.

“My father died a little over five years ago, and the circumstances of his death… they caused a rift between my brother and I. In a way, he blames me for what happened. We haven’t spoken since. Though he is the last of what I’d call my family, I don’t think he’ll ever see me as such again. So that’s why you don’t hear me talk about them much.”

Arken leaned against me for just a moment, resting her temple against my arm, and I resisted the mounting urge to wrap my arms around her and pull her in closer.

The weight of last night was really starting to settle in.

She had almost died.

Died.

What the actual fuck would I have done if I lost her? The thought alone made me sick to my stomach.

“Thank you again,” she murmured, as if she could read my mind.

“For what?”

“Saving my life.”

I wondered if she had any idea that I’d really just been returning a favor. Saving the life of someone who had made mine worth savoring. My dearest friend. The closest friend I’d ever have.

“You don’t need to thank me for that, Arken.”

“I do,” she murmured sleepily. “And I will…”

She leaned against me a little harder now, and for a second, I was relishing the weight of her body against mine and the comfort it seemed to summon. Just for a moment, before I realized that her steps had turned into slower shuffles, and she began to slump forward where she stood. Right in the middle of the cobblestones where we’d been walking.

“Shit,” I swore, scrambling to try and catch her by the arm. My fingers gripped at her sweater, but it only stretched and slid off her shoulder as Arken collapsed in the street. Shit.

“Oh, ow,” she groaned as I rushed over to slide an arm beneath her head, which had struck the ground with a nauseating crack. Thank fuck she was still conscious.

“Fucking Hel, Arken. Are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” she said, holding a hand against her head. I could see a small trickle of blood form between her fingertips.

“You are most certainly not alright. For fuck’s sake,” I replied. “Did you take that first vial that Fen gave you?”

“Oh,” she said meekly. “I might have forgotten about that.”

“If you weren’t already bleeding, Asher, I would kick your ass. Drink that godsdamned tincture. Right now,” I growled.

This woman needed to take better care of herself. Did she have a death wish?

“I’m taking you back to the infirmary,” I muttered.

“Oh, gods—please don’t,” she begged.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s fine, it’s just a scrape. I can clean it up at home.”

Absolutely not. Her apartment was still something close to twenty minutes away, and that was walking at our usual pace. It would take twice as long with her walking around on baby deer legs, partially concussed.

“I’ll give you two options, Little Conduit. You’re either going back to the infirmary, or I’m taking you to my townhouse to take a look at that scrape myself. Your choice.”

“You live nearby?”

I realized now that in the year or so we’d known one another, she had never seen where I lived. We always met up at her place, HQ, or other various locations on campus. I really was a closed-off son of a bitch, wasn’t I?

“Yeah, just a few blocks from here, actually.”

She winced as she straightened herself up, pulled one of the vials from her pocket, uncorked it and knocked it back like a shot.

Good girl.

“Pick your poison, Asher. I’m not letting you out of my sight until you’re stable and healthy.”

“Ugh, fine. Take me to the townhouse,” she groaned. “I am not going back to tell the clerics that I fainted in the middle of the road.”

“As you wish,” I replied, proffering an arm to steady her as she lifted herself up off the ground.

“Sorry,” she said quietly as I steered us both in the direction of home.

“Tell that to your head,” I muttered, still irritated by her lack of good sense.

In the ten minutes it took us to get to my place, the tincture had already started to take effect. Arken’s eyes were brighter, with color returning to her cheeks. She didn’t need to lean on me or the railing as I’d led her up the stairs to my front door.

“This is where you live?” she asked, eyes widening as she took in the casual grandeur of the neighborhood.

“I make good money as a captain, thank you very much,” I replied, unlocking the door and leading her inside.

“Tea?” I offered after getting her settled in on my couch with a damp rag for her head.

“I’ll take some cold water, if you have it.”

I pulled a small carafe from the icebox and poured her a glass. I also quickly grabbed a scone, slathered it with some orange blossom jam and clotted cream, and tossed that on a plate as well.

“Eat,” I said, returning to the kettle to prepare my own tea. Fates knew my frayed nerves could use it—this girl was going to put me in an early grave.

“Don’t start with me, Asher,” I warned as she opened her mouth, most assuredly to argue.

“You are so demanding,” she said, clearly suppressing a grin.

She had no idea.

“Eat, and then I’ll take a look at your head, and then maybe let you go home.”

“Fine,” she sighed, glaring at me as she took a bite. Her expression quickly melted into one of deep contentment.

“Holy Hel, this is good jam. Where did you get it?”

“I made it.”

“Really? How domestic of you.”

“My family’s kitchen maid taught me how to make it myself because I used to eat it out of a jar with a spoon and finish it off within days of her making a batch,” I confessed.

“That’s adorable, actually. And you still have a thing for citrus, don’t you?” she mused.

I thought of that first day she’d caught my eye, the lemon-and-sunshine scent of her skin that immediately captured my attention. I hadn’t managed to look away since.

“Yeah, maybe.”