Warmth surges through me. He kissed me. I feel unsure about Kane still, but time passes and I feel more and more certain that he has a good heart beneath his cold and hard exterior. The same can't be said for Willem. I pad to the bathroom to deposit my dirtied clothes and cloak and to wash quickly. I want the feeling of the Nephilim on my hips gone. I slip out of the ragged and torn dress, shoving it into the nearby laundry hamper. If the servants burned it, I wouldn't mind.
Kane was right, my plan to leave the Underworld was foolish—and certainly not well-planned. Perhaps I was overdramatic, I muse as I step into the bath. I’ll stay in the Underworld and try again. For now. I don’t know what the future holds, but for now, I’ll do my best to adjust to it. I wonder if Kane will open his walls to me anymore, or if he’ll shut me out more. I know it will be simpler if he continues to hold me at arms-length, but I feel a burning hope in my chest that he shows me other sides of him.
I sink deeper into the bath until I’m submerged up to my nose. My mind wanders to the sensation of his lips on mine. I had hoped my first real kiss would be under different circumstances, but I always dreamed it would be with Kane ever since I was told of our engagement. I close my eyes, reliving it and I feel my core throb in time with my heartbeat. Yes, it would be best if he pushed me away—for both of us.
Chapter 20
Kane
I stride down the hall towards my own room. I hardly see the dark portraits or heavy curtains decorating the wall as I walk past. All I see is the plush, red carpet and my ruined leather shoes. My shoulders are heavy with fatigue. It’s been some time since I was this exhausted, and even longer since I emptied the coffers of my power. But returning a soul is no easy task. I hadn’t expected the way it would deplete me. I’m not used to being weak.
My lips still tingle from the kisses I shared with Briar as I restored her soul and then after, when I couldn’t help myself. I resist the urge to run my fingertips over my lips, letting my mind linger on the kiss. But reliving the moment seems pointless. So, I turn my mind back to the soft bed waiting for me down the hall. I must remember to find Willem and tell him that the Nephilim has been eliminated, but that there’s a new threat. I shake my head. Work can wait. First, sleep.
Suddenly, my heart throbs painfully, beating to a new rhythm. I stagger against the wall, knocking a portrait off the wall with a crash. I clutch at my chest, taking deep gulps of air as I try to settle my body. Excitement and a sensation of tender care streak through me, wholly and completely alien to me. I gape, eyes wide as the unfamiliar emotions roil in my chest to the beat of my heart. Kane. I hear my name echo through my mind. But the voice was not my own.
I turn my head sharply down the hall towards Briar’s room on the level above me. I hear her heartbeat echo towards me when I concentrate, beating in time with my own. Stark realization strikes me like a gust of frozen wind. This is Briar’s heartbeat, her emotions, her thoughts even. I blink, dazed. How is this possible?
I dig my fingers into my chest, as if to rip out my own heart. I take a ragged breath and continue down the hall, albeit unsteadily. The further I move from her, the weaker her influence is. I stumble past my room, electing instead to sleep in my office on the other end of the castle. I don't want to feel what she feels and I don't want to know her thoughts. And I certainly don't want her to affect me physically. Finally, I feel nothing from her and the sweet emotions fade. My heart beats powerfully and steadily. I shake my head and grind my teeth irritably.
Restoring her soul must have had an effect on me. Hopefully it’s only temporary. I shoulder my way into my study, grateful to see that Willem isn’t here. I collapse onto the cushioned bench beside the window as dawn creeps over the horizon. I review the restoration of Briar’s soul, running through each step and each surge of power. My fingers twitch, mimicking my movements from hours before.
I sit up, eyes flying open as I realize my mistake. “Shit,” I curse, scrambling up.
I slip a heavy tome from a nearby bookshelf and blow the dust from the cover. This is the only text I have at hand with information on Nephilim and soul restoration. I ordered it from the castle library after the first Nephilim attack. I flip to a bookmarked page and run my finger over the small, messy handwriting. In the event of a soul-bond, I read silently.
“Double shit.” I slam the tome closed and toss it onto the ground carelessly, draping a hand over my eyes. I slump into my velvet chair, legs splayed in front of me.
In my haste to save Briar, I neglected to form a barrier around my own mind and soul. Briar fed off of it, and I seared our two souls together with my carelessness. To be soul-bound is a serious thing. Very few people choose to be soul-bound because of the intensity of it. It’s almost sacred. Briar will feel
