Chapter 90

Waves rolled in and out, rhythmically breaking against the sand. A castoff mist gathered in the air and coated my skin. I breathed in deep, letting the ocean air fill me. God, I fucking loved this place.

I lost myself for just a moment. Long enough to feel the peace begin to nestle its way into my soul. Except I wasn’t alone. Standing next to me was a kid no older than eight or nine—short, scrawny, and up to his waist in water that tugged dangerously at his small frame. Dark, unruly hair fell into his face, and midnight blue eyes were red with tears, matching his red nose.

I lowered to a crouch as I stared at him, surprised. Fuck, it was me.

My soul ached. I knew his pain. Fuck, I could recall the pain. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to help the frustrated tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Killian?” a man said from the shore. That voice… it sent chills down my spine. Both of us turned, and my heart damn near fell out of my fucking chest.

“Dad?” I whispered, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. I didn’t exist here outside of little me. It was nothing more than a memory.

Standing in the sand, my dad had his hands shoved in his pockets as he watched. A pensive expression lined his weathered face. Auburn hair was cut short and swept across his forehead. The gray at his temples matched the gray in his beard. Wire glasses sat on his nose, and his broad shoulders complimented his tall frame.

God, Declan really did look like him.

“I’m sorry,” little me managed to whisper before breaking down crying.

My dad walked right into the ocean and got down on his knees. He was barely down before little me launched at him. I could feel the desperation for comfort from where I was—something my dad so readily offered.

“You don’t have to be sorry, kid,” he replied. His arms tightened, and I swore I almost felt it—a ghost of a hug. “Your mom and I were just worried about you.”

“The world is too loud!” little me exclaimed. “And I just… I got mad.”

I felt that shit in my soul.

“It’ll get easier,” my dad told him. It wouldn’t, but the sentiment was nice.

“How?”

I stared at my dad almost as expectantly as the younger version of me did. The look on my dad’s face wasn’t reassuring.

“I don’t know, Killian,” he admitted. “Do you like the ocean better than going out in the woods?”

“Yeah,” little me replied.

“Okay.” Shifting in the water, my dad sat down and pulled little me with him, sitting him between my dad’s legs. “Then we’ll sit here.”

Then we’ll sit here…

Those words echoed in my head.

“I remember this,” I said to no one in particular as I stared around us. It was the last time I ran away before Dad died. This was the last moment I had alone with my dad.

Fuck. I sank back into the water next to them—they watched the horizon, and I watched them. I took in every detail I could about my dad at that moment.

“Promise me something, Killian?”

“I didn’t take the donuts,” little me mumbled. “I know Mom thinks I did. I usually do…”

“Yeah, that one was me.” He chuckled and kissed the mop of hair resting against his chest. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“Okay. Then what?”

“Promise me you’ll keep fighting,” my dad whispered. “I know things are hard sometimes for you, but I don’t want you to give up. You’ve got me. You’ve got your mom. You’ve got your brothers. You’re not in this alone, kid.”

“Feels like it,” little me grumbled, earning another hard kiss on the head.

“I know, Killian, I know. Just know you’re not. When things get hard and the world is too loud, you can count on us. I can’t fight this fight for you—Lord knows I would in a heartbeat if I could. The world will always be a little harder for you, but don’t let that stop you. Keep fighting, Killian.”

Little me made a sound, completely indifferent to the words being said.

But me? I was trapped in an unexpected surge of emotions. Fuck, even back then he knew. I held my head in my hands, breathing deeply to control the onslaught.

“Do we have to go home?”

“Nah, we can stay out as long as you need to,” my dad said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

If only that were true.

They fell silent, and I sat with them. The drifting waves lapped at my waist, tugging at my clothes and soothing my soul. It didn’t take away the ache of knowing once I woke up, this would all be a vague memory I struggled to hold onto.

“You should know there are more things locked away in your head than you realize,” my dad said. I frowned. What the fuck?

I looked over at him. The young version of me was gone, leaving behind my dad. Only it wasn’t my dad. Not really. The black eyes were a dead giveaway.

“Lane.” I sighed. “Get the fuck out of my head, you dick.”

I diverted my gaze straight back to the horizons. Associating Lane with my dad wasn’t something I wanted.

“I’d fucking love to,” he replied. “I’ve been hopping around your memories for the last hour trying to figure out where the fuck you landed on this trip.”

“An hour?” I repeated. Fuck, I’d never been under so long.

“It’s annoying as fuck,” he snapped. “But I’m not the only source of magic in your fucking head, wolf boy.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a room in your head—a memory—locked away by magic. I want to open it.”

“Of course, you do,” I muttered. No fucking surprise there—though the magic in my head was a surprise. “Fine. Open the fucking door.”

He wasn’t entirely asking my permission. Lane didn’t quite work that way. Once he found something he wanted, he did it. Fuck everything and everyone.

“It’s going to hurt,” Lane said.

“Because why wouldn’t it.” I shrugged. “I already let you stab me in the heart. Just fucking do it before I change my mind.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before the waves reared up and grabbed me. I screamed as they dragged me into the darkness.