Page 65 of Above Cursed Winds

“You’re not alone in your confusion. Key never explains her visions to us, and always speaks in riddles.” And occasionally, mandates. “She is more entrenched in her ability than anyone I’ve ever known, but she assures us there is a reason for her madness.”

“Then let us hope that reason doesn’t include another death.”

Zia couldn’t agree more.

As she made a move to walk back into the house, Gideon stopped her. “Zia, I’d appreciate your discretion with regards to Jeremiah’s … extracurricular activities. Rukia and Rona: neither of them know he’s been fighting, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“What exactly do they believe he’s doing?”

His features pinched. “They believe—accurately—that he’s drinking, and—inaccurately—that he’s losing himself in women.”

“In women?” she growled. “Why would they think that?”

“I may have put the rumor about and he’s never denied it.” Gideon had the audacity to blush. “It was better than, ‘Jeremiah’s letting humans beat the snot out of him because he’s sad.’”

Zia grimaced. “He’s not sad.”

That got the Elemental’s attention. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“If you want to know, you’ll have to ask Jeremiah,” she said. “I won’t spill his secrets when he’s not ready for you to know them.”

Straightening, Gideon assessed her with calculating, molten-gold eyes, the intensity of his study unnerving. “If I may ask, what exactly is your relationship with him?”

It was the one question she’d been unprepared to answer. Zia shrugged, truly uncertain of how to explain the complexity of their relationship.

“We’ve simply enjoyed each other’s company. He needed someone, and so did I.”

The truth of it hit harder than she’d expected, the honesty of her response blooming within her soul. Lips curling softly, she glanced at Gideon, and found him meditative.

“I’m glad he’s found something of a haven in you.”

And so was she.

***

Morning dawned to an approaching storm: the whistle of near-hurricane level winds, sheets of rain pounding on shuttered windows, and the house shivering around her. Sehrin hadn’t returned that night, and she’d once again awoken tucked in Jeremiah’s protective embrace.

Curled into his heat, she savored their shared warmth and eagerly inhaled his warm sunshine scent. The pair of them were nestled together perfectly with her smaller frame encased in his larger one, fitting like pieces of a puzzle. In truth, she could’ve stayed hidden here for hours, simply enjoying his nearness. It just felt right to be with him.

But when Myko burst into the room, Zia’s chest constricted.

“Mom?”

She watched her son round the side of the bed. He eyed the still-sleeping male behind her with confusion. Zia offered him a faltering smile.

Though her vocal cords refused to work at first, she finally managed to say, “Yes, Boo?”

“Why is Jeremiah in here?” Myko cocked his head to the side, those ebony eyebrows pulling together as he looked between them. “Was the couch uncomfortable?”

“No, baby. Jeremiah and I—we’re good friends. And he needed a friend last night.”

Zia breathed a sigh of relief when awareness made Myko smile and nod. While it wasn’t the entire truth, it was a truth. If anything, she aimed for transparency with her son whenever possible, never believing a lie to be preferable to the truth.

In this life, truths were currency. While deceit pandered to the soul and appeased the masses, truths were the only thing that inspired real change.

“Okay.” And just like that, Myko accepted Jeremiah’s presence. “There’s a hawk on the porch. I think he has a broken wing.”

Jolting in her shock, Zia gaped with concern, rousing Jeremiah from behind her. Immediately acknowledging who’d joined them, he stiffened, his breath ceasing to tickle the sensitive inner curve of her shoulder.

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