Page 53

"Damn it!"
No one has ever eluded me like this. No one has picked apart my tracking methods so effectively. It's like trying to catch smoke with bare hands.
I pull out a communication crystal, knowing I should tell Trinity I'll be delayed again. The eastern territories are dangerous—even for me.
But these thoughts of Trinity, of the twins... they're exactly the distraction the captain is counting on. The vulnerability he's looking to exploit.
I pocket the crystal unused. The captain wants me distracted, wants me torn between the hunt and home. That's not a game I'm willing to play.
I secure my weapons and prepare for the journey east, a growl building in my chest. I'm coming for you, Captain. And when I find you, you'll learn why they whisper my name in the dark corners of Aerasak.
I push my carriage faster than I should across the rugged terrain, every fiber of my being pulling toward home. Three days in the eastern territories yielded nothing but more frustration—the captain had vanished again, the "collector" nowhere to be found. Another trail gone cold.
But with each mile closer to home, thoughts of the hunt fade, replaced by images of Trinity and the twins. My chest tightens with an unfamiliar ache. The realization that I've been counting the days—hours even—since I last saw their faces unsettles me.
Demons don't pine. We don't yearn. We take what we want and discard what no longer serves us.
Yet here I am, urging the zarryn to a dangerous pace, desperate to arrive before the twins are put down for the night.
When my home finally appears on the horizon—black stone silhouetted against the crimson sky—I feel something suspiciously like relief wash over me. I school my features into neutrality as I approach. Trinity doesn't need to see how much her absence affected me. She doesn't need that burden.
The door opens before I reach it. Jackie stands there, her round human face lighting up with recognition.
"You're back earlier than expected," she says, stepping aside. "They're in the nursery."
I stride past her without answering, following the soft sounds echoing down the hallway. The scent of milk and the sweet, distinctive smell of the twins grows stronger. And beneath it all—Trinity's scent, like sunlight on warm skin.
I pause at the nursery door, watching silently. Trinity stands with her back to me, humming softly as she rocks Kaelin. My breath catches at the sight of her silhouetted against the window, the crimson light of Aerasak's sunset turning her brown waves to copper. Liora sleeps peacefully in her bassinet, tiny fingers curled into fists.
For a moment, I allow myself to imagine this is my reality—not a temporary arrangement, but my life. My family.
Trinity turns, sensing my presence. Surprise flickers across her features before she composes herself.
"You're back," she says softly, careful not to disturb Kaelin, who's drifting to sleep in her arms.
I cross the room in three strides, peering down at Kaelin's peaceful face. "Miss anything interesting?" My voice comes out rougher than intended.
"Liora smiled yesterday. A real smile, not just gas." Trinity's own smile appears, tentative but genuine. "And this one—" she glances down at Kaelin "—has discovered her lungs. Properly discovered them."
I allow myself to touch Kaelin's cheek with one finger, marveling at the silken softness of her skin. "Show me," I murmur, holding my arms out.
Trinity hesitates for only a fraction of a second before transferring Kaelin to my embrace. Our hands brush in the exchange, and I resist the urge to prolong the contact.
"How was your... business?" Trinity asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She never asks directly about my hunts, maintaining the fiction that I'm merely attending to some vague professional matters.
"Unfinished," I reply, breathing in Kaelin's scent as I cradle her. "But not urgent."
Trinity nods, turning to adjust Liora's blanket unnecessarily. "Jackie made enough dinner for two. If you're hungry."
I watch her movements, cataloging the shifts in her posture, the careful way she avoids meeting my eyes for too long. She's grown more comfortable in my home—my territory—but maintains certain boundaries. Boundaries I know better than to push against.
"I'll take over," I say, nodding toward the twins. "You should eat."
"I'm not?—"
"You're still recovering," I cut her off, keeping my voice low. "And you've been alone with them all day. Take a break, Trinity."
She looks ready to argue, then her shoulders relax slightly. "Fine. But call if they need anything."