Chapter 93 Promises over breakfast
IRIS
The morning light is warm and soft, but it is his body beside mine that makes it feel like the safest place in the world.
I lay on my side, facing him, studying the curve of his jaw, the way his lashes brush against his bruised cheek. His hair is tousled, lips parted just enough to tempt me.
God, I missed him.
I reach out, let my fingers trace the line of his cheekbone, slow and gentle. He stirs under my touch, breath hitching. I lean in and kiss his cheek, then again closer to the corner of his mouth. A whisper of a grin pulls at his lips.
"You're up early," he murmurs, voice gravelly and half-asleep.
"Do you always sleep with your mouth slightly open?" I tease, brushing my thumb across his bottom lip.
He cracks one eye open. "Only when someone’s staring at me like they want to eat me alive."
"Don’t flatter yourself," I whisper, but we both know I am lying.
He reaches for me, his fingers skimming the bare skin beneath the hem of my shirt, not low enough to cross any line, but enough to make my breath catch. The contact is featherlight, teasing.
“I missed you,” he says, voice low, raw.
“I missed you more.” My voice comes out breathier than I intended. “But you scared me. You show up like that, limping, bruised... looking like death just spat you back out.”
He doesn’t reply immediately. His hand cups the side of my face, thumb brushing beneath my eye.
“Then why are you crying?” he asks.
I didn’t even realized a tear slipped down.
“Because… I waited. Days. Nothing. Then you show up, and you look like you’ve been through hell.” My throat tightens. “And I don’t even know how to hold you without hurting you.”
“I’m still here,” he murmurs, closing the distance.
His lips brushes against mine, soft and unhurried, but there is nothing calm in the way my body responds. His kiss is warm, lingering, filled with everything unspoken between us. When his hand moves to the back of my neck, drawing me closer, I melt into him.
He kisses me like he was trying to memorize me, trying to remember what it feels like to breathe me in.
My hands slip beneath his shirt, over bandaged ribs, feeling the ridges of pain and heat beneath skin. I can feel the moment things shift, when our breathing deepens, when mouths open wider, when the kiss loses all softness and becomes something hotter, heavier.
His hand grips my thigh, pulling me gently over him until I straddle his lap, careful not to press too hard. I feel him beneath me, feel the restraint in his fingers even as they dig into my waist. My skin prickles.
He groans into my mouth. “God, Iris…”
And then the knock comes.
Three short taps, then the door creaks open.
Adrian and kelvin
Of course.
“You guys early,” I say, shifting so Darian can ease upright.
Adrian clears his throat. “Look, Iris… Darian… we need to talk.”
Kelvin’s eyes flick to Darian. “It’s not safe for all of us to stay here.”
I freeze, hands tightening on Darian’s robe. “Why? Because you’re risking yourselves?”
Adrian steps closer. “We’ve been talking. We think we should go back to the Haven quietly. Gather intel. Maybe draw Father’s attention elsewhere.”
Darian sets down my hand. He rubs his side gingerly. “Iris, I only want someone to stay with you so I know you’re protected.”
I nod, voice firm. “But grandfather and Nana are here. I’m safe. Let me stay. I’ve trained with him. I’m capable.”
Kelvin shifts. “You are. But if Father sends men, you’ll be vulnerable alone. We need to diffuse pressure.”
Adrian meets my gaze. “Darian, we’ll tell Father we had no idea. We helped you escape and then split off. That’s believable. You’ll stay hidden. Iris will remain secret.”
Darian’s jaw tightens. He looks to me. I swallow. Fear and love tangling in my chest.
“Okay,” Darian finally says. “If you two go , go safe.”
Adrian exhales. “We will. We’ll make sure he doesn’t find this place easily.”
Kelvin steps in. “Iris, stay with Grandfather. Let us handle the Haven run.”
My eyes flick between them. “Promise me you’ll come back.” My voice shakes.
Adrian nods. “We will.”
Kelvin’s fingers touch Darian’s shoulder. “We’ll leave tonight, by dark. Use the forest route.” He pauses. “Darian, rest. We’ll arrange a safe place near the borders. Low profile. When it’s time, you join us.”
Darian meets his gaze. Pain in his eyes, but resolve under it. “Understood.”
I rise, moving closer. I take Darian’s hand. His fingers close weakly around mine.
Adrian clears his throat. “We shouldn’t keep Nana waiting.”
Nana knocks and enters with a tray of breakfast with eggs, warm bread, herbal tea. Her eyes sweep the room, taking in Darian’s bruises, my tear-damp cheek, the brothers standing at alert.
“Good morning,” she says gently. “Eat something. You’ll need your strength.”
We gather. The air is heavy, charged.
At the table, I meet Darian’s eyes. My throat is thick. I slide closer. He winces, but he lets me.
I place my hand over the wound lightly. His breath hitches.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “I keep forgetting.”
He squeezes my hand. “It’s okay.”
I lean forward and press my lips to his again, full, tender and at the same time, urgent. It’s a promise. A plea.
Everyone watches, a hush falling. Adrian clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, everyone, don’t stare too much. Breakfast is ready.”
Kelvin smirks. “Yeah, help him if you have to. But no staged fainting, okay?”
Nana stirs. “Eat up, dears. You’ll need your strength for what’s to come.”
I pull back, eyes on Darian. “I’ll wait for you.”
He nods slowly. “Always.”
And there, surrounded by family and secrets, our plans set, we begin our next move.