Chapter 40 THE SAFE HOUSE
(Kael’s POV)
I didn’t expect peace to feel this… quiet. Not empty, just gentle. A strange gentleness I haven’t felt in a long time.
Adam has been asleep for the past hour, curled up on the old leather couch, wrapped in my jacket like it’s armor. He looks so small in here. Or maybe everything around him is just significantly bigger.
Either way… I can’t stop looking at him.
When we arrived earlier, he seemed so fragile; emotionally wrung out, physically exhausted. After the argument, the marks, the panic… he kept apologizing under his breath even when he didn’t need to. I had to pretend I didn’t hear those apologies because answering them would have broken my heart more.
I want him to feel safe with me. I want him to know he is safe with me.
So we stayed here. All day. Doing nothing and everything.
We talked. We didn’t talk. We ate a little. He slept a little. I watched him a lot.
Hours pass in that strange rhythm: simple, fragile, healing…
When he stirs on the couch, his eyelashes fluttering like he’s waking from a half-dream, I sit up immediately.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
He rubs his eyes. “Yeah… I think so.”
His voice is soft and warm and sleepy. My chest squeezes.
“Want to go outside?” he asks, almost shyly.
I blink. Of all things, I didn’t expect that. “Outside?”
“Yeah. You once said the stars are clearer here. Since we’re here… I wanna see them with you.”
Of course he does.
Of course I’d give him anything he asks for.
“Let’s go.”
I open the door and let the cool night air spill in. Adam steps out barefoot, still wearing my jacket, still looking a little fragile, but he lifts his chin like the darkness doesn’t scare him tonight.
The sky is huge. Deep blue, dotted with stars; some bright, some faint, all alive.
We sit on the steps outside the cabin, Adam’s shoulder pressed lightly against mine. He’s quiet for a long time. His breathing is steady, warm against the cold air.
“I didn’t think tonight would… end like this,” he whispers.
“Better than earlier,” I manage with a soft laugh.
He hums. “Yeah… better.”
Silence again. Just the wind. Just his warmth. Just us.
I’m starting to relax, like really relax and let go of racing thoughts, when I notice him wrap his arms around himself. His shoulders curl inward. A shiver runs through him.
“Are you cold?” I ask.
“No,” he lies.
A second shiver ruins him.
I didn't bother asking again. I simply lift him into my arms. He lets out a startled noise and grabs my shoulders.
“Kael—”
“You’re freezing.”
“I’m— you can’t just—”
“Apparently I can.”
He huffs but rests his forehead against my shoulder while I carry him inside. His breath is shaky, like he’s fighting another wave of dizziness. I lay him on the bed, pulling the blankets over him up to his chin.
“Stay,” he murmurs.
I draw in a sharp breath.
He blinks at me, sleepy and flushed. “Don’t leave. Just stay in the room.”
“You don’t have to ask,” I whisper.
So I stayed.
But before I could relax against the mattress, it began again. The marks.
At first it’s a faint shimmer under his shirt. Then a glow. Then the burn hits him and he winces sharply, arching slightly off the bed.
“Adam—”
“I—I’m okay. It just—burns.”
“I know. I know, I’m here.”
He pushes the blanket down because he’s overheating, tugging at his shirt. I reach out automatically, but stop halfway. “Here, let me help—”
“No! No, I—I got it.” He yanks it over his head, breath hitching.
And suddenly his entire upper body is revealed.
And the marks… gods, the marks… they’re glowing like molten gold threading under his skin, climbing over his ribs, curling up his spine.
My pulse jumps. Desire hits me so sharply it’s embarrassing. I tear my eyes away so quickly my neck hurts.
I face the wall.
Jaw tight.
Hands fists.
Every instinct in me pulls toward him, but I cannot devour a boy who’s hurting. I will not. My goodness, this is shameful. What kind of mate am I? My mate is uncomfortable and I somehow find it arousing.
“Kael…?” he whispers.
His voice alone almost breaks me.
“I’m right here,” I manage.
“You’re… looking away.”
“I’m so sorry, but it's so I don’t do something stupid.”
I could literally feel his confusion, his curiosity, the flicker of warmth in the bond.
“…oh.”
That “oh” almost kills me.
The marks calm eventually, leaving him warm and flushed but not in pain. He lies down again, breathing softer now. I sit on the floor next to the bed, leaning back against it so I can hear his breathing.
It’s quiet. Peaceful.
Until he whimpers.
At first it’s small, barely a sound. Then his breath stutters. His legs shift. His fingers curl into the sheets.
A nightmare.
I’m up before I even think.
“Adam,” I whisper, touching his arm. “Hey. You’re dreaming. Wake up.”
He jolts, gasping, reaching out blindly. I catch his hands and pull him against me.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
His face buries into my chest immediately, breath shaking.
“I saw something—” he whispers, still half-asleep. “It was dark… I couldn’t get out…”
“Shh. You’re safe. It’s just me and you, there's no dark unsafe trap.”
He clings harder, like a frightened child.
I lie down next to him, tucking him under my chin. My arms wrap around him on instinct. His legs pull closer. His breathing evens out bit by bit until he’s sighing softly against my skin.
He falls asleep.
But I don’t.
I stay awake, watching the rise and fall of his chest, feeling the heat of him, memorizing the shape of him in my arms. Every so often, I run a hand through his hair just to soothe him when he twitches.
I don’t want to let go.
I won’t let go.
Not tonight. Not ever; if he lets me stay.