Page 50 of Hollowed

“Areyou all right,Katrina?”Alexanderasked, pausing to lock the door behind us.

Myface flushed. “Yes, simply grateful to be back here, away from the manor.”

Henodded and finished securing our room.Leaningback against the door, he unlaced his boots, pulling them off and setting them beside the door.Stillwatching me, he removed his coat and hung it from the hook on the wall. “Sit,Katrina.Takeoff your shoes and get comfortable.Thisstory is not a happy one, asIam certain you have guessed.”

Followinghis lead,Isat on the bed, removing my boots and setting them beneath the bed.Mydress was comfortable enough, having not donned a corset beneath it.Reachingup,Ipulled the pins holding my hair back and shook it loose as the relief on my scalp thrummed through me.Movingfurther up the bed,Ipatted the space beside me. “Youcan sit down,Alexander.”

Hehesitated, but sat down next to me, his eyes fixed firmly on the wooden planks of our floor. “Itold you before that theDullahanare the children ofDeath.”

Inodded, unsure if he wanted a response, but giving him one anyway. “Yes,Iremember.”

Thesigh he let out moved through his whole body, and his shoulders fell. “Deathcreated us, butDeathdid not raise us.AllDullahanare given to human parents to raise—servants, humans, and sometimes even other paranormals that were in debt toDeathin some way.Iwas sent here, to a family of paranormals that lived in the area before theWarforIndependence.Myadoptive mother left whenIwas an infant.Accordingto my adoptive father, she decided she did not actually want to be a mother any longer.Heraised me and taught me how to be a good man.Itwas hard, being a soldier and a father to an infant at the same time.Hetried to balance caring for a child with his duties, but it was hard, andIwas often alone, much like you.”

“Yourfather fought in the war?”Ikept my voice as soft as possible.

“Yes, he did.”Henodded with a heavy sigh, pulling his gloves off and tossing them onto the bed. “AsIgrew older, he took me with him when he could, teaching me how to be a good soldier, talking about how to control my magic when it came in.Thiswas beforeDeathcame for me, but we had to do something to keep from attracting attention.Hetaught me discipline, control, andIwas able to keep my magic reigned in untilIreceived formal training.Butthe distraction of worrying about a child at home took its toll.Myfather went out one night to patrol the land, and he was killed.Ionly found out when he was not there the next morning.”

“Howdid he die?”Iwanted to reach out and take his hand to comfort the obvious hurt on his face as he recalled his loneliness.

“Hedied during the war, but not in battle.”Ididn’t push—didn’t breathe asIwaited for him to continue. “Iwas only a boy then, and though it was early in the war, it was still hard to continue without him.Mymagic settled in shortly after his death.”

“Howwere you expected to learn your magic, then?”Iasked. “Ifyou were alone, who taught you?”

“Deathknows when our magic settles in and takes us for training.Itrained withDeathfor several years.Buttime passes differently in theOtherworld—”

“You’vebeen to theOtherworld?”Iasked.Mycheeks burned asIrealized whatI’ddone. “Apologies.Please, continue.”

“Anyway, he didn’t die during a battle.SleepyHollowsent people hunting down a rogue mage.Whenthey ran across my father, walking our land to ensure its safety, they overreacted and killed him.”Hisvoice was hollow, as if he’d recited the words enough so they no longer elicited emotion in him.Theywere just facts he was repeating now.

Ihad no words.NothingIcould say would comfort him.Myteeth dug into my lower lip, trying to keep it from trembling or falling open in horror.Thiswas aboutAlexander, not me.Ididn’t want him to try to comfort me, or to stop sharing his story.

Hesighed again, the movement slumping his shoulders, a far cry from the careful posture he’d always carried himself with. “Ido not know all the details of that night.Istill haven’t discovered who from the town took his life.AllIknow is that he is dead, andIbecame an orphan at fourteen years old and went back toDeathto learn my magic, without a parent.”

Heran a hand over his face roughly. “So,Iapologize for my anger earlier, but hearing that your parents—your mother—willingly sent you to die brought back some of those feelings.”

“Iunderstand,”Imurmured.Myfingers itched to reach out and soothe him, butIforced myself back.Themoment he knew he was upsetting me—never mind thatIwas upset for him—he would stop.Thelook of sorrow on his face, even in the candlelight, was heartbreaking. “Iapologize for my anger, too.”

“Thankyou.”Heinclined his head and offered a small smile.Politeness,Irecognized. “Tomorrow, we should venture to talk toCyrus.Iwould like to go back to the bookstore, too.”

“Ofcourse,”Iagreed, still observing his face.

Heshifted to turn and face me, bending one of his legs up onto the bed. “Youare a strong woman,Katrina.Andyour value is not held in the thoughts of others.Iwant you to know that.”

Thistime,Idid not hold myself back.Ireached across the bed and took hold of his hand, squeezing gently. “Andyour value is not held in the town’s view of you.”

“Thankyou,Katrina.”Hesmiled, albeit a bit sadly, but returned the squeeze to my hand.Thesmile fell from his face, and his eyes dropped to my lips once more.Histongue darted out to lick his lips and his eyes returned to mine, smoldering with a darkness that should have made me nervous, but instead made my skin vibrate with anticipation. “CanIkiss you,Katrina?Please?”

Unableto speak, unable to breathe,Inodded.Desperately.Inthat moment,Idid not care thatImight get my heart broken.AllIwanted was to feel his lips against mine again.Therewas no one here, nothing to interrupt us or to use as an excuse.Hewas kissing me because he wanted to.AndIwanted it as well.

Alexander’shand came to the side of my face.Thetouch was soft, though the kiss that followed was anything but.Ourlips met, andIwas lost, spinning in the sensation.Myeyes slid shut, and it only intensified the experience.

Agroan vibrated through him, moving from his chest and into mine from the bridge of our lips.Hishand flexed on my face, moving to tangle into my hair.Thetug he gave had me responding with a groan of my own, and the kiss only escalated.Thehand in my hair tipped my head back, deepening the kiss as he shifted closer to me on the bed.

“Katrina,” he sighed, his breath fanning against my lips as he pulled back to rest his forehead against mine.

“What?”Iasked, my voice hoarse.Idesperately wanted to lean back in and initiate our kiss again.SoIdid.

Heresponded by pulling at my hair to tip my head back, beginning a path down my cheek and over my jaw line before descending to my neck.Abreath puffed against my neck, and suddenly both of my hands were being pulled away into one of his. “Weshould stop,Katrina.”

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