CHAPTER 47
Janua 1787
WHEN HELENA RETURNED TO THE OUTPOST THE next week, the room was covered in some kind of thick drop cloth that padded the floor and bunched up around the door when she tried to push it open.
Ferron was already there, his cloak and coat stripped off, dressed down, and his shirtsleeves were rolled past the elbows. She froze.
Northerners were all so pale that they nearly glowed in the wintertime, while Helena turned sallow and sickly looking without sunlight. She missed the warm southern sun so much, sometimes her skin ached for it.
“I’m not training you for a battlefield,” Kaine said. “The point of all this is to ensure you have the skills to get away. At this point, you should be fine around necrothralls as long as there aren’t too many, but if you run into one of the Undying, they will pursue, and you’ll be lucky if they only kill you.”
She gave a stiff nod.
“Your reflexes are passable now, but an actual fight is different. There are no rules; it’s close and dirty. Every second it takes you to attack or to get into position is a point against you. Time will never be on your side. Your sole advantage is that they’ll underestimate you, but you’ll only get that advantage once.”
Why was it that every time he uttered anything vaguely complimentary, he
had to couch it with six criticisms?
“Right.”
He looked at her sidelong. “You’re hardly built for combat or particularly strong, but you can use that to your advantage. Looking at you, no one will see you as a threat. They’re likely to send thralls after you first, but if they see your abilities, you’ll be in real danger.” He gave her a once-over. “I don’t particularly fancy being extensively stabbed today, so we’ll be using practice daggers.”
He picked up a set from the table, tossing them.
Helena fumbled but caught them. They were light, about the same size and weight as her set, but wooden. She squeezed. It was strange, not having any resonance.
“Your goal is to either escape and knock on the wall three times—we’ll count that as getting away—or else contact enough to form a resonance channel. We’ll consider that a hit. You know what to do after that.”
It sounded overly simple, but it was the first time they were properly sparring. He probably wanted to start easy.
“Now, imagine you’re out in that bog you’re so partial to. The terrain is terrible, and while you were up to your knees in mud gathering frogs or something, a few necrothralls spotted you. Since you don’t have a combat partner to cover you, while you were dealing with them, you didn’t notice the Undying approaching. He’s seen you’re a vivimancer, and his guard’s up, but he knows he’ll be rewarded for getting you alive.” He stepped towards her until their bodies were touching. “What would you do now?”
Helena went for his chest, but rather than dodge or parry, the flat side of his hand struck her wrist. The blow was so sudden that her grip failed, and the wooden knife plummeted towards the floor. He caught it in midair.
Helena tried to jump back and regroup into a better defensive position, but the cloths on the floor slowed her. Bad terrain. Kaine’s empty hand closed around her wrist, jerking her back.
The knife, now in his hand, sliced through the air towards her throat. She managed to block it with her second knife, but he caught the tip of the get intohandguard, ripping it from her fingers.
It thumped to the floor. hat advantage“Five seconds and you’ve already lost both knives.” He pulled her closer until she could feel his breath on her skin. imentary, heShe tried to shove at him. A resonance touch, that was all she needed.
Forget the knives.
His left hand, which she’d sworn had a knife in it a split second prior, was suddenly empty, and it closed around her wrist before she could lay a finger on him. She tried to wrench herself free, but his grip was iron. but if they see“Now I have both hands captured,” he narrated, as if she hadn’t noticed.
She threw herself backwards, trying to wrench free.
“A word of advice,” he said conversationally, not even swaying as she used all her strength and weight trying to break his grip. “Don’t leave your
wrists open. Once I have you by the wrists, I can do practically anything to ame size andyou. This is much easier for me to maintain than for you to escape from. That rule also applies to feet. Be careful kicking above the knee. If I get you by the ankle, you’ll be on the ground in seconds. Most of the Undying are guild; they weigh twice what you do. Even if you manage to kill them, you’ll be trapped. Stomping or kneeing is much better than kicking. Stomping uses your weight, rather than relying on your momentum. Stomp hard and go for the ankles or the sides of the knees. Disabling is key; dislocating the knee will take longer for them to regenerate than a stab wound. A knee to the groin works, too.” He grinned. “Even the liches hate that.”
Helena promptly tried to knee him, but he effortlessly sidestepped.
“See? It’s dangerous to lose your arms.” n’t notice theHis lecture was getting annoying. ard’s up, butHelena stomped on his foot and kicked him in the shin.
He grunted. “Better, but if I were trying to capture you, I would have already drowned you in the marsh until you passed out. Or taken you by the neck and rammed your head into my knee. You need to fight dirty. Forget every word you’ve ever heard about honour in combat. The honour is surviving.”
He let go, and she stumbled back, winded already.
He watched her, his gaze as intent as a predator. A shiver ran down her spine.
“If you’re ever attacked, you will be outnumbered, and even if you aren’t outnumbered, you will never be as strong or resilient as the Undying. We don’t tire. We can keep fighting for hours, and any injury you inflict, we will recover from in minutes if not seconds. If they hurt you enough to slow you,
you’re worse than dead.”
“I know,” she said, her voice hollow.
“Do whatever you have to to get away.”
Helena nodded.
“Be devious. When your opponent is stronger than you, it’s crucial to use that against them. They will underestimate you, and they’ll be angry if you manage to injure or evade them. There’s risk and advantage to that. If they’re angry, they will try harder to hurt you, but they’ll also stop thinking clearly; that’ll make their attacks predictable. In combat, there’s no difference between an angry person and a stupid one.”
He let her pick up her knife and pulled the other from his pocket, tossing it pe from. Thatback to her. et you by theHe attacked her again. And again. And again. Winning every time. Despite that, he was in a bizarrely good mood. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why, because usually he treated her mistakes like they were personal insults.
All she needed to do to “win” a round was to get stable contact once.
Anywhere. One touch. Or else reach a wall with a few seconds before he e to the groincaught her.
Both were impossible. Kaine could disarm her without effort, ripping the knives out of her hands, tripping her, dodging her blows, and sidestepping.
Then she’d make a mistake, leave herself open for an instant, and that was all he needed. He wasn’t armed or using his resonance. He didn’t need to. He’d get her by one arm and twist it up behind her back or into some other helpless position, all while relentlessly criticising her, telling her all the ways she was doing things wrong, all the advantages her incompetence gave him.
Helena grew progressively more and more enraged, which he also noticed and seemed amused by.
“You should be using your resonance,” he said as he attacked her the twentieth time, knocking her off balance by dodging a blow.
With a quick sweep of his boot, he sent her to the floor. She tried to jump back to her feet, but he caught her by the ankle, dragging her along. When she tried to stab him, he managed to catch both her wrists in one hand.
He pinned her wrists over her head, forcing her knives to fall from her fingers, and then he proceeded to sit on her hips.
“If I were Blackthorne, I’d slit you open and eat your organs while your heart was still beating,” he said, leaning over her. His weight had her wrists so firmly pinned down, she could feel the tiles beneath all the fabric on the floor. His fingers ghosted across her stomach.
A shiver ran through her gut, heat rolling through her like a wave.
“You’re terrible at hand-to-hand combat. I thought your stance-work was awful, but you’re even worse at this,” he said, but his eyes were following his at. If they’refingers.
“Well, I’ve never done this before,” Helena said mutinously as she tried to wriggle free. Her heart was pounding. “I thought we’d both be fighting with weapons.”
He laughed. “Why would I need a weapon? You can’t even beat me when I’m empty-handed.” ime. DespiteShe frowned at him. “Why are you in such a good mood?”
He quirked an eyebrow and stood, extending a hand to help her up. “Do you prefer me angry?”
She ignored the question but watched him warily. He still seemed bizarrely cheerful, despite the endless criticisms and warnings about all the ways she could be killed.
It should have come as a relief—she’d grown so used to his anger—but instead she felt on the verge of a breakdown just looking at him. She was running out of time. d that was allEven if she could manipulate him to some degree, by taking advantage of how contrary he was, it wouldn’t be reliable. That wouldn’t meet Ilva’s other helplessdemands.
She picked up the knives. There was a throbbing pressure inside her skull.
She’d barely slept since the solstice. She kept dreaming of him going mad, ripping himself apart like Basilius did but then consuming it all, eating himself endlessly like the dragon in the Ferron crest.
His voice broke her from her thoughts. “Don’t be afraid to use your elbows. When you’re fending off a close-range attack, elbows work well.
You’re more likely to break something with your elbow than your fist.”
He lunged at her.
Rather than bolt, she moved towards him, sidestepping at the last minute.
He pivoted, but she’d already gotten him in the leg with one of her knives.
With a real knife, she would have severed a tendon and artery, enough to hobble him for a minute.
She tried to leap back for the next attack, but he used his remaining leg as leverage to tackle her, dragging her to the ground. She tried to roll but his weight trapped her. Helena kicked and snarled as she tried to fight free, but his grip was relentless, blocking her hand.
“If this were a real fight, I’d be very angry by now,” he said, his voice low following hisas he slithered up her body, pinning her wrists to the floor, his torso moulded against hers. His mouth reached the base of her neck, breath running hot across her skin.
She kept twisting and bucking her hips to try to break free. Kaine abruptly let go of her, shoving himself off.
The muscle in his jaw rippled, and his eyes were dark as he stood up, breathing heavily, a low flush in his cheeks.
“If you’re ever pinned down like that, I would not recommend trying to escape that way,” he said in a tight voice, turning as if catching his breath.
Helena was so tired, she lay there on the floor a moment longer. “How med bizarrelyshould I do it?”
“Like I said,” he said without turning, “elbows. Target the nose and eye sockets. Or go limp long enough that they get careless and let go of your wrists. Once you have a hand free, do whatever you want, liquefy their brain.
Just don’t—squirm.”
She was following now.
She immediately sat up. “Noted.”
“Again.” He’d turned back and attacked her before she’d gotten her knives back.
When she left the Outpost, her whole body was aching. She paused on the bridge to heal the bruises so that she could walk normally before reaching a checkpoint.
She found a few books on hand-to-hand combat in the library and read them diligently. She reviewed all her notes about Kaine, their interactions, his words, his tells, the things he said and all the things he didn’t, trying to understand him. All the time she’d spent with Crowther, dissecting his behaviour, and yet she still had no idea what any of it meant. What could Kaine possibly want that could ever be worth this much risk? She didn’t see the ambition or hunger for power that Crowther and Ilva were so convinced he possessed, but she had no alternative explanation for his choices.
Everyone who’d returned to Headquarters for solstice had gone again, the heroes off to reclaim more of their city. There was no one to notice the strange hours Helena spent flitting between the hospital and the lab like a ghost.
Each time she went back to the Outpost, they continued with hand-to-hand combat, her armed and him empty-handed, as he demonstrated technique after technique for disabling and killing the Undying. She wished he’d stop.
“Is there any point in training you if you aren’t even paying attention?” he said, irritated at last after he’d disarmed her for the tenth time without effort.
Helena retrieved the wooden knife from the floor automatically. “I just don’t see the point, if I’m being honest. If I’m attacked by one of the
Undying, I doubt I’ll survive it. If I do, I’ll probably be so badly injured there won’t be any point in it.”
He shifted his stance, eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m tired,” she said, staring at the floor. “I’m tired of this war. I’m tired of trying to save people and watching them die anyway, or saving them only to watch them die later—in a worse way. It’s the same cycle, over and over. I don’t know how to get out, and I don’t know how to keep going, either.”
“I thought you’d do anything for Holdfast.” He was pacing the room. y their brain.“The price keeps getting higher,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if I can keep paying it.”
He stilled. “I suppose even martyrs have limits.”
She glanced up, glimpsing for a moment the intent way that he watched n her knivesher when she wasn’t looking.
She wasn’t imagining it. It was there, just below the surface. There was a want in him that practically shone in his eyes. But he refused to give in.
Whenever she tried to beckon, to tempt him across the line he’d drawn, his malice surfaced, vicious as a serrated blade.
He was always cruellest when he was vulnerable. eractions, hisLately he’d hardly been cruel at all, which told her everything about her chances now.
Perhaps if she’d been more dogged, she would have found a way to push through the pain, but he always seemed to know how to hurt her most.
She had to do this, though.
She drew a deep breath, shaking her head, trying to focus. “Just an off day,” she said. “I’m fine now.”
She retrieved her knife, and he lunged without warning. She sidestepped, using her free hand to try shoving him past her, but he easily evaded her.
With lightning speed his hand caught her wrist. Her first knife dropped. She pulled out the second, managing to elbow him in the ribs, and wrench herself free.
She snatched the larger knife up off the ground as she got back into a defensive position, ready as he closed in again. He grabbed her by the arm when she stabbed at him, ripping the larger knife out of her grip again. She attempted to hook her foot behind his ankle, but he swept back and dodged, getting her arm twisted behind her back. He liked that trick, it was almost predictable, and his hold always just marginally loosened as his grip rotated.
injured thereShe lunged, breaking free, experiencing a flash of triumph before realising he’d let her go.
Using the momentum of her escape, he spun her, caught her ankle with his . I’m tired ofboot, and slammed her to the floor. The wind was knocked from her lungs, and she lay gasping.
He knelt over her. “You’re still trying to win by being quick rather than clever. Use that brain of yours. Again.”
Helena was tiring, but she managed to last longer. She could tell she was getting the hang of it; starting to see the patterns, the openings, to begin spotting weaknesses and opportunities. She wasn’t fast enough to exploit them, but with time, she could get there.
She managed to knock him down twice, but he always evaded. He tried to pin her down, and she spun to the side, using his momentum. They fell, tumbling across the floor until he hit the wall, and she pinned him there. His left hand was wrapped around her throat, but she had a knife across his, and her other palm was pressed flat against his chest, her resonance humming through him.
She could feel his heartbeat as though it were cradled in her palm.
She gave a startled laugh as they both went still. Their faces were so close, they were almost touching.
“Just like that,” he said, panting. “Just push in. It’s right there.”
She looked up sharply. He was watching her, making no move to stop her.
Waiting.
Her smile fell, and she stared at him in horror.
That bitterness in his eyes—she finally understood it. He had been waiting
for her betrayal.
This was what held him back.
He’d known from the beginning, before the possibility had ever occurred to her, and he’d trained her anyway.
She didn’t need a book or Crowther to tell her what the expression on his face meant. She could feel it.
His hand was warm against her throat, and his thumb ran slowly along the scar below her jaw.
She leaned closer, her hand sliding up from his chest to his shoulder to pull him forward and kiss him.
It was not a slow, sweet kiss. It was not a kiss caused by alcohol or insecurity.
It was born of rage, despair, and desire so hot, it threatened to burn her into
oblivion.
It was possibly a kiss goodbye.
She wanted him to know. It was real. For her, it had always been real.
He froze when their lips met. She felt his hand on her shoulder and braced herself to be pushed away even as she deepened the kiss, gripping the fabric of his shirt tighter, her lips frantic.
He wavered a moment and then something broke inside him, like a dam bursting, and Helena was drowning in him.
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her savagely.
The heat was like wildfire.
The tension, the waiting. Months of expectations. After being told this was what she was sent for, why she was wanted. All a ruse. A feint to conceal his true motive. Demanding her had been the same trick of misdirection he taught her to use to protect her memories.
A lie, until it wasn’t.
Somehow she’d shifted in his estimation, manipulated her way into becoming the very obsession he’d pretended she was. His palm pressed against the side of her neck before he slid his fingers up under the braids and anchored her in place as he kissed her, twisting so that she was under him on the floor.
Her fingers slipped beneath the collar of his shirt, following the dip of his collarbones, the curve of his neck.
She ran her fingers through his hair, wanting to lose herself completely in the nearness. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders. She could feel the scars on his back, the thrum of energy inside them.
Despite how cold he often was, a dragon was an apt sigil for the Ferrons.
He kept walls of ice around himself, but there was fire in his heart.
Her shirt ripped as he tore it out of the way. She pulled him close, tight against her body until she could feel his skin on hers. She bit him without thinking. There was a hunger inside her that she couldn’t explain, a pit of want to taste and feel and hold and not be always, always empty. She wanted to curl up so tight alongside him that she vanished. oulder to pullHer clothes were slipping out of the way as he ran his hands along her ribs and waist, kissing across her breasts, body pressed between her legs. Her skirts sliding up as his hand trailed along her thigh.
burn her intoIt happened so fast. She’d never thought it would be something soft or slow, but it was more like a collision, like breaking across each other. The rush of skin and teeth as she let herself be consumed.
He sank into her, and her heart stopped, eyes going wide. She bit down on her tongue so hard she tasted blood, her eyes squeezed shut. He paused and kissed her, his lips so searing she felt it in her bones, and she nuzzled her face against his, but it hurt.
She’d known it might hurt if not done slowly, but she was glad it did.
Certain things were meant to hurt. She’d seduced Kaine when it was abundantly clear that this was a line he had no desire to cross. She had pushed and persisted and done it anyway, because she was desperate. told this wasThat should hurt.
His frame practically enveloped her, his lips nipping at her hairline. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, holding her tight against himself. She forced her eyes open, wanting a glimpse of what he felt in that moment.
Even now, his jaw was tense. His expression guarded. His mouth held in
that hard, flat line.
But his eyes …
She could tell—
He was hers.
The realisation broke her heart.
Kaine dropped his head against her shoulder, moaning into her skin, pulling her closer, and then suddenly, it wasn’t merely a pleasure he was taking in her. Heat came to life inside her, her sense of control untethering as it threatened to engulf her. But shame and guilt rose equally quick, cold and bitter as seawater, until she was on the verge of sundering.
His body shook. He gave a low groan, slumping, arms still around her. His breath dragged across her skin as he panted, pressing a kiss on her bare shoulder.
Helena lay still, the weight of his body against her, suddenly aware of the cold radiating from the floor. The dirt and gravel and rough cloths that bit against her skin, rubbing it raw.
The only thing she could think of was how relieved she was that it was over before anything else had happened.
Even whores were not so low as to find pleasure in their work the way she nearly had.
She tried to lie still and not tremble. Kaine’s body and breath were the only warmth in that cold place. Then he went rigid and shoved himself away. His expression was drawn, and he didn’t even look at her as he scrambled off, pulling his clothes back on.
Helena slowly sat up, watching him because she didn’t know what else she zled her facewas supposed to do.
He was growing paler and paler as he re-dressed. His expression disbelieving.
“Fuck—” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair before he pulled his shirt back on.
His breathing was growing unsteady. When his shirt was on, he fumbled for the buttons, and when he found some missing, he seemed blindsided.
He clamped a hand over his mouth as if he were about to be sick. His throat dipped, and he closed his eyes. He drew a deep breath before he turned to face her, his expression cold. He only looked at her face for an instant before his eyes dropped down, and the little colour remaining in his face
vanished.
“You—were you a virgin?”
Helena looked down. There was blood smeared at the top of her inner thigh. No wonder it had hurt.
She pressed her knees together instantly and shoved her skirts farther. “It was assumed that was how you’d want me,” she said, trying not to think about everything the question insinuated.
For a respectable girl to lose her virginity was to give up everything, a career, education, alchemy. Only virgins were given Lumithia’s grace. If Helena were somebody of note, Kaine would be expected to marry her now. und her. HisAn indiscretion like this was the reason for his parents’ marriage after all.
Clearly he’d never considered her as belonging in that category. Her lungs shrivelled inside her chest.
“I—” His voice failed him. “I—I would have been gentler—if I’d known.”
She drew her legs closer, as if being smaller would shield her from being so seen.
“I didn’t really want you to be,” she said quietly. Her hands shook as she tried to get her clothes back on.
His mouth closed then, and the room went still. She could feel the change in the air between them. But she didn’t understand why it mattered, why this was the line he’d drawn.
were the onlyThe array must be part of it. Just after he was healed and fully internalising its effects, he’d kissed her. Wanted her. It had created a crossroads for him; that was why he’d stayed away for so long after that. Perhaps giving in, even once, was enough to tip the scales. Perhaps he couldn’t change course now;
what else shehe’d made his choice.
Obsessive and possessive.
She had him. If she was smart enough to leverage it.
On his knees, ready to do anything, Ilva had said.
She still didn’t know how to do that, though. It wasn’t as if Ilva or Crowther would see any significance in the fact Kaine had finally slept with her; that was what they’d expected him to do from the start.
She was torn between the desire to laugh and cry, her mouth twisting in a grimacing smile. ore he turned“Well, you seem pleased,” he said in a bitter voice, his lip curling, “to have finally whored yourself.”
Her fingers froze, and the room went out of focus.
“That was my job,” she said. “You had to have known it was my mission.”
“Of course,” he said tonelessly, looking around the room as if he couldn’t quite believe he was there. His arms were hanging limp at his sides. “I just—I never thought you’d actually succeed.”
There was a pause while Helena finished dressing.
“I wasn’t going to betray the Resistance,” he finally said. “I was never going to. You were already losing when I made the offer, and you’re probably still going to lose now, but I never cared. I just wanted to avenge my mother.”
He pressed his lips into a tight line and looked down at the floor.
“Unfortunately, by the time I had an opportunity to offer my services, she’d been dead too long and there was the coroner’s report saying she’d died of natural causes. What could I possibly have to avenge?” The bitterness in his I’d known.”voice and on his face was unadulterated. “I knew Crowther well enough to know he’d only consider me as valuable as the strings he could pull, so I thought I’d give him a dead end to dig himself into.”
Then his expression turned vicious and disdainful. “I tried to think what could I possibly want from the Eternal Flame. A pardon, because it was as ridiculous as it was obvious. But the Resistance was losing, everyone knew you were losing. I knew I’d need a contact, someone who could retrieve messages for me and come when called. I didn’t want Crowther choosing one
internalisingof his rats, and I thought demanding someone specific would play into—what they expected of me.”
He swallowed. “But the Eternal Flame’s noble families are too precious, I had to want someone they’d consider disposable, and Crowther was standing there, waiting for an answer. I had to come up with something. I remembered your name, on the exam lists. When I said Helena Marino, Crowther got this look in his eyes, and I knew he’d taken the bait.”
He sneered. “As if I would betray the High Necromancer for you. I knew they’d send you with instructions to try to play up the obsession I was supposed to have—to ensure I wouldn’t get bored or change my mind—but I wasn’t worried. You were no one, just an awkward shadow behind Holdfast, following him like a dog. I thought it would be funny, watching you try.”
He looked away from her then, his face twisting. “But you—you—” He ing, “to haveshook his head. “It doesn’t really matter. You outmanoeuvred me. Or maybe I’m just too tired and grieving to keep pushing you away. You won.” He met her eyes for a moment, his expression bitter and derisive. “Well done.” my mission.”Then he went and leaned against the wall, shutting his eyes.
Helena watched him sceptically. She wasn’t sure what angle he was trying es. “I just—Ito play with this confession.
What he said about her was believable enough. It aligned with their inconsistent interactions, but to claim that avenging his mother was his true impetus? Avenging her for what?
“You switched sides because your mother died of a heart attack?” She gave a loud scoff, standing up, hiding a wince. “Her death wasn’t anyone’s fault, and even if it was, did you murder Principate Apollo by ripping out his heart by accident? Ran off with it and joined the Undying for three years, saw her die, kept going, and then what? You got so melancholy because you can’t get drunk that you decided to turn spy?”
She was baiting him. She knew it would enrage him. She hoped that if she goaded him enough, he’d finally tell the truth.
His eyes snapped open. They’d turned silver, and two splotches of colour flushed in the hollows of his cheeks. “Fuck you.”
She flinched but spat back, “You already did.”
Her back felt bruised, the skin rubbed raw from the floor, and her lower abdomen ached as if she’d been punched low in the pelvis. She’d never felt so cold as she did then, standing there, but she was so angry, and finally it choosing onewas all out in the open. No more of this game.
y into—what“You are a monster,” she said, crossing her arms. “Do you expect me to forget what you’ve done? To think you became so high-ranking because of that delightful personality of yours? You think invoking your mother’s death can erase all that? Everyone has lost someone, and most of them, more than rememberedyou ever could. If you want to blame her death on Morrough, then maybe you shouldn’t have spent all that extra time supporting him after she was gone.
After you started this war. And chose to become Undying.”
He was so angry that she could feel his resonance humming in the air, pushing at her skin. He would probably flay her if she didn’t use her own resonance to push back.
“Do you want to know why I’m like this?” he asked slowly, his teeth flashing like fangs. “You asked once if it was a punishment, and I was honest when I said it wasn’t. It was the bargain I made.”
He walked towards her, rage radiating off him until she could feel the room warp.
“After my father’s failure, after he revealed Morrough’s plans, do you think the High Necromancer was understanding?”
Helena stared at him, frozen in place.
“I was still at the Institute, finishing up the year. Who do you imagine was alone with him when word came that my father had been caught and confessed to treason?” Kaine’s expression contorted with grief. “He had my mother in a cage when I got home. He’d been torturing her for weeks.”
His breathing grew ragged and uneven. “You sold yourself to save the person you care about. Well, so did I. What was I supposed to do, fail to kill Principate Apollo knowing I wouldn’t be the one who’d suffer for it? This”— ee years, sawhe gestured towards himself—“this was how I proved I’d be loyal, how I got use you can’thim t—” His breath caught. “—to stop hurting her.”
Helena’s head had grown light. “We—I didn’t know.”
His lip curled up in a snarl, but then he turned away and his voice grew thick. “She never recovered. Morrough and Bennet were short on subjects at the time. They liked to experiment together. I’d hear her screaming for hours sometimes. They’d do things to her and then reverse them, so there were no traces after.”
He shoved his hair away from his face, his throat working. “The whole summer. I couldn’t—do anything but tell her I was sorry. That I’d do it and come back for her. That I wouldn’t fail.”
He braced against the wall as if he were about to fall. The words, so furious at first, were turning into a tidal wave of grief that seemed to pour from him.
“When the Principate was dead and I brought the heart back, the High n maybe youNecromancer let her out and made us leave with him before the Eternal Flame came for me. Even before that, my mother—she was never very strong. When she was pregnant, she wouldn’t listen when the doctors warned her what I’d cost her. She was always fragile after that. My father always said I had to take care of her. That I was—responsible. He used to make me swear again and again, growing up, that I’d always take care of her. I tried to make her flee. I got it all arranged but—she wouldn’t go. Not without me. Said she I was honestcouldn’t leave me here.”
He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I was trying to figure out if there was a way, and there were these parties they’d hold, the Undying.
She said I should go, thought if I had friends, I’d be—protected. But that wasn’t why I’d been invited. They thought it would be interesting to find ways to make an injury that would last on one of us, and I was the youngest.
Automatic short straw …” He blinked as if he wasn’t seeing the room anymore. “I thought she’d be in bed when I got back, but she’d waited up for me. She was by the door, and when she saw me, she started screaming. I kept trying to tell her that it would heal, but she kept saying it was all her fault, and her heart stopped, and I—couldn’t—”
His voice broke and he slid down the wall, shuddering as if he were about to split open. When he spoke again, his voice had deadened. or it? This”—“After she died, I was being watched. Morrough knew I’d joined for her. I had to earn back trust before I could risk doing anything. I’m not one of your fucking idiots who thinks one moment of self-sacrifice can change everything. If I wanted my betrayal to matter, he couldn’t see it coming.”
Helena stood frozen in horror. How had no one known this?
“I am so sorry.” She felt faint with shock.
“I don’t need your false sympathy, Marino,” he snarled, but his voice was shaking.
He’d probably never told anyone what happened. His mother’s death had been dismissed by everyone. Why would a heart attack matter, when people were dying in battle.
But Helena knew the kind of torture a vivimancer could perform and fix without leaving a trace. She could imagine what that would do to a heart over
time. Kaine had been carrying that guilt for years, trying to make amends as best he could, trying to exact some form of revenge for her, knowing the indescribable punishment that awaited him.
“I’m not lying,” she said. “I’m sorry. I am truly sorry for what happened to her.”
She drew closer to him. He looked so utterly broken, as if he were about to ctors warnedcollapse into himself. r always saidShe placed a tentative hand on his arm, half expecting him to fling her ke me swearacross the room, but his shoulders trembled and he dropped his head onto her shoulder. She pulled him into her arms; he gripped her close and sobbed.
“I can’t—I can’t—” he kept saying over and over.
Helena didn’t know what to do. She ran her fingers through his hair and just held him. he Undying.“I can’t—I can’t do this again—” he finally gasped out. “I can’t care for someone again. I can’t take it.”
She blindly found his face, pressing her hand against his cheek, felt tears slide along her palm and down her wrist.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kaine.” She said it again and again.
She was apologising for everything. aming. I keptFor the first time, Kaine Ferron was fully human to her. She’d slipped through his walls and peeled away the defensive layers of malice and cruelty, and found that there he carried a broken heart.
She could use that.
o a heart over
time. Kaine had been carrying that guilt for years, trying to make amends as best he could, trying to exact some form of revenge for her, knowing the indescribable punishment that awaited him.
“I’m not lying,” she said. “I’m sorry. I am truly sorry for what happened to her.”
She drew closer to him. He looked so utterly broken, as if he were about to collapse into himself.
She placed a tentative hand on his arm, half expecting him to fling her across the room, but his shoulders trembled and he dropped his head onto her shoulder. She pulled him into her arms; he gripped her close and sobbed.
“I can’t—I can’t—” he kept saying over and over.
Helena didn’t know what to do. She ran her fingers through his hair and just held him.
“I can’t—I can’t do this again—” he finally gasped out. “I can’t care for someone again. I can’t take it.”
She blindly found his face, pressing her hand against his cheek, felt tears slide along her palm and down her wrist.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kaine.” She said it again and again.
She was apologising for everything.
For the first time, Kaine Ferron was fully human to her. She’d slipped through his walls and peeled away the defensive layers of malice and cruelty, and found that there he carried a broken heart.
She could use that.