Page 52 of A Lost Light

I kept my expression placid in the face of his attempt to deflect. “Was it the artifact that upset you so?”

He didn't look at me as he finished his braiding. “Hasumi. You know what happened the last time you tried to go digging around in my head.”

I shrugged. “I was unprepared then. And you were angry with me. I assume we are both intelligent enough to avoid that happening again.” I hadn't enjoyed the experience of complete overload, or the seizure that followed. But it wasn't Dyre who had caused it. It was Sunny. And the wraith really hadn't been trying to hurt me.

“You are very attached to Elijah,” I observed lightly. “You were concerned for his safety.”

He scoffed. “Imadehim. I was concerned that my spell might get destroyed when he rushed into the line of fire.”

I scooted closer, slowly entering the necromancer's treasured personal space. “I can feel what you feel,” I reminded him. “I try not to, most of the time. But it's very hard to ignore when you are intent on pushing it down and ignoring it. That kind of repression leads to explosions. Loss of control.”

He finally looked at me, his pretty violet eyes pained. “It won't happen again. Sunny was just… hungry.”

I smirked. “You're blaming the wraith?”

He returned my wry grin. “He should be good forsomething, don't you think?”

“He's being awfully silent now,” I observed.

Dyre sighed and slouched back against the taller swoop of the chaise's backrest. “He's pouting because I wouldn't let him eat people.” Then he huffed a dry laugh. “And he thinks mortal hangups likefeelingsandmoralsare dumb.”

I reached out on impulse, without really thinking about it. I hadn't spent much time alone with Dyre. But he was just as compelling as the others. He was simply more guarded. My fingers traced the line of his pale, angular jaw. “It is frightening,” I said softly. “To open yourself to others. To care.”

He watched me with wary violet eyes, but didn't slap my touch away. “You're going to overload yourself and end up hurting,” he warned.

I shook my head. “No. This isn't darkness you're feeling. It's yearning. A different kind of fear—one tinged with the tiniest bit of hope, rather than absolute despair.”

He closed his eyes and turned his head into my touch, surprising me with his surrender. The necromancer always projected such stoic calm. But the energies he couldn't hide fromme spoke of woundedness and need. “Can you make it go away, then?” he whispered.

“No,” I said evenly. “That's not how hearts work. And what you feel isn't something to be ashamed of or try to be rid of. Why are you so afraid to love, Dyre?”

His eyes were still closed as he spoke, but he lifted one big hand to cover mine, where it still lay against his jaw. “Because I keep loving people I shouldn't. Wanting things that are inappropriate, wrong. Because I'm pretty sure I'm broken inside and that's the only way I know how to love. All the people who call me an abomination are right. I taint everything I touch.”

I clucked at him impatiently and moved, swinging a leg over his, settling so I straddled his lap, so I could take his face between my hands and make him look at me. Why were they all so stubborn? Why didn't they see that they all needed each other? Thatweneeded each other. That we could be a family. A clan. If only they all stopped being so stubborn. Why didn't Dyre see that he had so much to give, if he'd just get past his self-loathing, past the beliefs his birth family had beaten into him so long ago?

Dyre's eyes flew open in surprise at my closeness, and he froze, staring up at me. “Do I seem tainted to you?” I demanded. “I'mtouching you. I haven't descended into madness or suddenly turned evil.”

He huffed. “Hasumi.”

I felt his surprise and confusion, followed by a wave of lust. But he was so contained. So sure he was a force of evil. A monster. Or… more accurately, that he was unworthy of affection, repellant, unlovable. So, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

The necromancer's dark power surged up slightly, rising to meet me with curiosity before settling back down to a background hum, to a presence that watched but didn'tinterfere. Sunshine, quietly accepting that there was no danger here, despite Dyre's fear.

“See?” I said when I pulled back. “I seem to be just fine.”

His hands came to rest on my hips, as if he didn't know whether to pull me closer or push me off him. Instead, he just squeezed, his fingertips curling inward, pressing into my skin through my light layers of clothing.

“You don't understand,” he whispered. “Maureen. I destroyed her life, put her in danger, left her alone to raise a witch child. Andy is myprogeny.By most standards our relationship is unnatural. Ambrose is only safe because he's made of darkness, like me. And now I feel this pull, this desire to take advantage of Elijah. When he's under my control. When he's dependent on me forlife.”He shook his head sadly. “And no matter how much I try to ignore it, the desire only gets worse. Do you know what I thought, back there in that fight? Aside from just being livid with the witch for enslaving people and drawing power from trappedsouls…I thought 'he's mine. And no one putsmyangel in danger. As if I have some sort of claim on him. On the man I turned into a revenant.'“ He scoffed. “Tell me. Doesanyof that sound healthy to you? Normal? Sane?”

I shook my head. “Dyre, I'm sorry that life has left you with so many scars. In here.” I placed a hand on his chest, over his heart. “But you are no monster. You're a deeply complex living being just like the rest of us, who is trying his best to figure out how to live his life while navigating some very unfortunate obstacles.”

He rolled his eyes. But I kept going. “The people in this house. Andy. Those of us she rescued from the bestiary. Our new cat friend. Don't you see how we all fit together? For once in your life, you have the chance to be part of something real. Something amazing.” I gave him a meaningful look. “And you are fucking it up.”

His red brows arched in surprise at my direct tone and my language. “I know I'm fucking it up. That's why I'm trying to keep my hands off the damned angel!”

Fed up with his stubbornness, and sure that he wasn't going to understand words alone, I unleashed my magic, pushing emotion into him where I still touched his chest. Yearning to match his own. Fear. Anxious trepidation and the deep need to feel accepted, wanted. The hunger for physical touch after so long feeling nothing. Gratitude for the deep trust that this man represented. For the anchor that I needed him to be in this new, terrifying, glorious life.

I withdrew my power, watching Dyre's face as his wide violet eyes stared into mine. Tears pooled in his eyes, then spilled silently down his cheeks at the force of the feelings I had just pressed into his aura. “Elijah?” he whispered.

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