Page 34 of Cursed Shadows 5

Hesitation is kneaded too deep in me, and I can’t close the distance of two, three steps between us.

“How are you?” My voice is small, it is as tentative as my shifty gaze. I can’t bring myself to look at him for more than a second, and even that feels like a burning eternity, so I flicker my gaze from his eyes to his jaw, his throat, the shoulder of his sweater.

How are you…

Words fuelled by the fear gripping my heart.

As though Samick has forced his hand into my chest and clenched his fist around my heart, ice nips through me.

How are you now that you have learned the truth?

How are you coping with the loss of your lover?

How do you see me now that I wear his blood on my hands?

Eamon’s brow lowers to furrow above his eyes. “How am I? Nari, it is you who should be asked that question, not me.”

My mouth tightens into a slanted line.

Still, my steps are stagnant. I do not take another.

I stand, uneasy, shifting my focus over every part of him, from the pockets to the relaxed posture of his hands.

I guess it is worry in his gaze as he considers me.

“You don’t know,” I say, soft. “They did not tell you.”

Eamon’s frown lingers for a mere heartbeat. Then, it smooths, as though brushed away by tender fingertips.

Understanding softens him.

“I know about Ridge,” he says.

That slanted line of my mouth starts to wobble.

“I know that Ridge attacked you. I know you risked your safety to rescue him. You risked your life to nurse him. And when you tried to escape with him, he revealed his true self. His mask was removed.”

I lift my watery gaze.

Warmth meets me.

Eamon let’s a small smile, patronising, steal his lips before he takes those three final steps to meet me—and his arms cocoon me, fast.

I’m tugged into his chest.

He murmurs into my hair, “Ridge deceived us, and I am sorry—so sorry—that you paid the price for my foolery.”

My face twists against the threads of his sweater. The tears hit me with the sudden force of a lightning strike, and I sink into Eamon.

He holds me.

Our embrace lasts for a long while.

Neither of us itches to let go. Not even when scattered droplets start to pepper down on us from the skies.

Eamon’s voice is muffled, buried in my hair, “I did not think… I did not expect…”

“To see me again,” I finish his trembling words for him, a murmur against his sweater.

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