I blinked, taken aback.
“Oh. You don’t often speak about your family,” I breathed. I had not been expecting this, not at all.
“There’s not much to speak on, Arken. Most of my family is dead.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Kieran
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 tookseveral 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.