Page 13 of Tarnished Embers

She blinks twice, her eyes unfocused, and it’s too fucking adorable. I love the way I can affect her so much that she loses herself when I touch her. Then she takes a deep inhale and heads towards the massive columned building that seems to be pretty busy with people coming and going, pulling me along with her.

“You all have different accents,” she comments, and I smile as I see the dip in between her brows. “Are you not from the same place?”

“Nah, we didn’t grow up together. Well, not really,” I tell her, stepping into the cool interior of the building. The outside is fucking magnificent with towering stone columns, but the moment we step foot inside, a shiver works its way up my spine. Red marble columns hold up the impressive, painted ceiling and glass dome, and huge wooden doors lead into the galleries at the top of more steps. Shit, it’s pretty old, and there’s a feeling about it, like the building itself has its own presence and is weighing us as we step through its doors. I think I would like to study architecture, perhaps now we can follow our own interests rather than— I stop my train of thought, not wanting to think of anything bad today. Not with the sun on my arm.

“What do you mean? Where are you all from and how did you meet?”

“Curious, ain’t ya?” Oct teases, and she blushes, but he just brings her hand up to his lips and kisses her knuckles to let her know that he’s not serious.

“Oct and I are from California,” I tell her as we stroll through the crowds. “We were the last to join the crew.”

“Join the crew?” She has the cutest fucking frown on her face, and I want to kiss it away, but if I do, I just won’t stop, and I want to get our story out. I need to tell her about us.

“Well, Prince was the first, then Caspian was adopted when he was nine, and Odette married our dad when we were eleven.” I can see the puzzled frown tugging her brows down and I know her next question before she even asks it. “Our mom died when we were young. I don’t really remember much about her, but apparently, she got sick and it was all over quickly.”

Her gasp pulls our little group up short, her steps faltering and her hand clenching around mine as she turns to face me. Oct, Prince, and Cas surround us so that the crowd parts like a river parts for a boulder.

“M–my mum died of cancer five years ago,” she tells us, her blue eyes already swimming, and it’s fascinating to watch such emotion fill someone so completely. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel something so keenly, it was just easier to switch it all off after Dad died, and with the shit we’ve had to do the past few years, being numb made that easier for all of us. The centre of my chest pulses with an unfamiliar ache, enough that I want to rub it away, but I resist the urge, completely captivated by our stepsister in her pain.

“I’m sorry, Pretty Thing,” I murmur, surprised to find that I am sorry for her. We knew about her mom, but hearing it from her lips and seeing her pain in the flesh hurts me deep in my soul. For years, it’s felt like I have been numb, going through the motions but not feeling much of anything, and yet, here she is, making me almost burst with emotions that I thought were long buried. I don’t like her heartache. In fact, I fucking hate it.

“What happened to your dad?”

At her question, the ache in my chest grows, a flash of pain burning hot and bright enough to steal my breath for a moment. My jaw clenches hard, my vision blurring as memories of that time try to resurface and break free from the box that I keep them in.

“He was coming to collect us from a friend’s party,” Oct interjects next to us, and his eyes have a redness to them, as they always do when he talks about that night. “It was stormy, and we’d begged him to use the Camaro earlier to come and get us.” Another sharp sting in my chest has my teeth grinding.It’s all our fault.“And the brakes failed or some shit because he came off the road and wrapped the car around a tree. He didn’t make it.” Oct’s shoulders are slumped, the last words barely a whisper over the loud crowds that are here at the gallery.

Despite that, Ember hears him alright, and I watch as the tears track down her cheeks. Fucking hell, to have someone cry over me, to feel my pain as if it were theirs is unlike anything I’ve ever known. How the hell did Cas let her go earlier?

“It’s okay, Pretty Thing,” I assure her in a hushed whisper before reaching out and cupping her cheek with my free hand. Then I rub my thumb across the smooth surface, feeling the track of her tears carving a path down her skin. “It was five and a half years ago.”

I know by the sorrow in her eyes that she realises just how similar we all are and how much we have in common.

“But it still hurts you, like it hurts me.”

I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest so hard that I wonder if the whole fucking gallery can hear it.

She knows. She sees me, and I’m not sure how to feel about that. My knees feel weak, my chest tight, as I look at this young woman, barely eighteen, and marvel at how she got so fucking wise.

“Yes.” That’s all I can say. It’s a small confession that hurts with the force of a punch to the gut. I watch as another tear trails down her pale cheek, glinting in the gallery’s low light. She nuzzles into my palm, then steps closer, resting her face on my chest and releasing Oct as her arms come around me in a comforting embrace. Oct comes closer too, burying his face against her neck and inhaling deeply.

“I’m so sorry, Kit, Oct,” she breathes out, and I pull her closer, absorbing her fucking light like I can’t get enough.

“See, they made us for each other, little sis,” Oct tells her, and I couldn’t agree more. She knows our agony and feels our pain like no one else.

She shivers as we press her between us all, Prince and Cas also moving closer until we’re in our own bubble and each touching her. I look up, catching each of their eyes and they all give me a nod.

We’re keeping her. She belongs to us now whether or not she wants to be. She’s more than just a toy to be tossed aside when we grow bored. She’s ours and no fucking one will take her from us.

* * *

“HAIL MARY” BY SKOTT

EMBER

How can my heart feel heavy yet lighter than it has in years?

These boys, my new stepbrothers, understand me on a level that no one else ever has before, and although I’ve not heard Prince’s story yet, I can see in his green eyes that it’s as devastating as the others. As all of ours. We’ve each lost a parent, or in the twins’ and Cas’s case, both parents, and that’s something that rocks our very foundation.

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