Page 124 of Prodigal Son

Anna took pity on him and patted his arm. “It means Gracie likes you.”

Dane gaped and Cain laughed. “Oh, come on. I know you’re mortal, but your brain cannot be that slow. We all see it.”

“We’re friends.”

“Of course, you are,” Adam muttered. “Pass the biscuits.”

Dane left the table, following Gracie outside.

“Ugh, this is painful to listen to,” Anna said, taking a long sip of her water. “We need music.”

Cain chuckled, his ears tuned to Dane’s clumsy chatter outside.

“I’m embarrassed for him,” Adam muttered, then the three of them flinched.

“That had to hurt.” Cain bit into a biscuit and they all looked down when Dane returned, holding his cheek.

“She’s not interested.”

Adam slid him a glass of bourbon. Dane sniffed the cup and drew back. “That doesn’t smell the least bit appealing.”

“Tough it out,” Cain said. “It’ll put a little hair on your chest.”

Dane slung it back and gasped. “Ugh, that tastes like paint thinner.”

“Hold on,” Anna said. “I thought you could read Gracie.”

“She blocks me now.” His fickle expression showed how hard up he was for a little female attention.

Even the unfeeling bishop took pity on Dane, implying that Cybil could stay safely and indefinitely in her cell, as long as it pleased the boy.

But the boy was now a man, and he didn’t fit in with the adult males any easier than he had blended with the children on the farm. Cybil had been his one source of familiarity but no longer shared his familial affection.

Cain knew what it was to crave a sense of belonging and could empathize with Dane. Ironically, their differences formed a common ground. Having felt ostracized many times himself, Cain assumed a more brotherly role with the mortal, and from there a sort of bond was formed.

By the first snowfall, the framework of the new house had been built and the construction was mostly finished. Yet their mother showed no interest in moving their father out of his parents’ home.

Cain also debated if he wanted to go back to a place that brought him nothing but pain over the last two years. His thoughts of Destiny lessened but his feelings never faded. He learned to stifle the longing and live for other joys. But when Annalise announced she was once again pregnant, he struggled with the return of bitterness and jealousy.

Unfortunately, no matter how much he silenced his heartache, agony still breathed inside of him, and his empathic twin brother suffered every bit of his sorrow whenever in Cain’s company.

Adam pressed Cain to go to Destiny like they had decided the morning of the fire, but after seeing her, he lost his nerve. She moved on, and he saw no sense in disrupting her life if she was happy. He feared seeing her with someone else, feared he might selfishly interrupt her life to serve his own interests. As much as he wanted to claim her as his own, he also wanted to do the honorable thing.

Loving her meant letting her find happiness without him. Which, according to her, she had.

CHAPTER 35

Cain watched in awe as a toy rattle scooted across the floor into Moriah’s pudgy hand. “She’ll never need to crawl at this rate.”

The child had a unique gift for telekinetically luring desired items into her possession. So far, she managed to pull toys, bottles, and pots and pans from shelves.

“At least it’s something she’s supposed to have. You have no idea how many times I catch her trying to take something dangerous she shouldn’t have,” Larissa said. “I’m going to have to nail down the furniture.”

Just then, a bowl of pears went skidding from the table. Eleazar lifted a hand, his kinesis disciplines much more powerful than the child’s, and the object slid back into place.

“At least Eleazar can intervene when he’s here. But when it’s just us, Moriah has me chasing down all kinds of objects. She’s getting faster at it, too.”

Cain chuckled. “Overpowered by a mere infant. What has become of you, sister?”

---