Page 296 of Alchemised
“Call me, and I will come.”
CHAPTER 55
Aprilis 1787
KAINE CALLED HER. OFTEN.
Sometimes his duties came to an end in the late evening, but most of the time it was past midnight. When she wasn’t on shift, Helena would work in her lab until her ring burned.
There were many buildings that were abandoned. Kaine had found one with a large open roof and working lift. Helena didn’t have to pass through any checkpoints to reach it.
Sometimes Amaris wouldn’t even land.
Helena would stand in the open-most part of the rooftop, and silent as a wraith, Amaris would drop from the sky, Kaine leaning over and snatching Helena up, and they’d be airborne, riding the wind, climbing over the buildings without being seen.
They’d land, and he’d pull her off Amaris, checking her over.
“You’re all right? Has anything happened to you?” he’d ask, even though she’d felt his resonance beneath her skin while they were flying, and he knew she wasn’t injured.
She hadn’t expected him to be so obsessively worried. She’d observed his quick arrival at the Outpost, the careful way his eyes would track her, but she hadn’t considered how deep the fear cut into him until he didn’t have to hide it.
They’d go inside, and she’d let him see her in the light, holding her arms out to prove she was in the same condition she’d been the last time.
“I’m fine. See? You don’t need to worry.”
The reassurance never seemed to have any effect. Whatever had happened to his mother had been hidden, and Enid Ferron had never told him fully—either because she couldn’t, or to spare him.
Withholding it had probably been the worse choice. Kaine was like her. He obsessed over what he didn’t know more than anything else.
She’d meet his eyes, hold his face in her hands. “I’m fine. Nothing has happened.”
Once he was finally convinced that she had no hidden injuries, a tension inside him would break. He’d gather her in his arms, and she’d feel his heart pounding.
You did this to him, she reminded herself whenever she was tempted to grow impatient with the ritual. You guessed where he was vulnerable and you exploited it.
She’d run her own fingers over him, trying to detect any injuries on him before he kissed her again.
He’d hide them or ignore them as if they didn’t exist unless she managed to discover them. Nullium injuries had begun appearing among the wounded after battles. Sometimes Kaine would end up with a shard in his body somewhere, and while its effects on him were limited, when it entered his bloodstream, it could slow his regeneration for hours unless she intervened.
She never had and never would heal anyone the way she healed Kaine: in his arms, pressed against his body. She’d bribe him into cooperation by pressing openmouthed kisses across his shoulders, hands, and face while her resonance found every place he was hurt, checking him over meticulously until he’d grow impatient and pin her hands down, pushing her back on the bed and taking her slowly. It was always deliriously slowly.
He’d stare into her eyes until she almost felt their minds touching.
“You’re mine. You’re mine.” He’d repeat the words over and over. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”
He’d entwine their fingers, press their foreheads together, and sometimes his whole body would tremble. She’d wrap her arms around him, trying to reassure him.
“I promise, Kaine. I’m always going to be yours.”
There was a possessive terror in him—in the ways he touched her—as though he always expected it to be the last time he ever saw her.
When he didn’t summon her, time stretched, filling Helena with a bottomless dread until her ring burned again.
Then she was the one who would desperately demand to know if he was all right. On the nights she slept alone, she had nightmares of him being killed. Sometimes gone forever, other times as a lich, or discovered and caught. She didn’t know which possibility to fear most.
“Be careful.” It was always the last thing she said to him before he left her on some rooftop. She would hold his face in her hands, staring into his eyes. “Don’t die.”
He’d dip his head forward, kissing her inner wrist or the palm of her hand, his silver eyes locked on her face. “You’re mine. I’ll always come for you.”
