Page 190

Eternal Adoration

Ki’REMI

The Rider stepped through the farmhouse’s threshold.

The moment he entered the intimate space of Issa’s kin, he understood why she fought so hard, bled, and burned for all these years.

For family and this sanctuary.

It was like he was walking into a hallowed temple.

The house exuded warmth, a living, breathing entity shaped by the hands of those who called it home.

Thick wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, and rays danced along the walls as the diluted morning sun filtered through latticed windows.

The scent of spices, cardamom, cumin, and roasted cloves mingled with slow-cooked meats, stewed grains, and the unmistakable aroma of fresh bread.

It curled around him, embedding itself in his senses and wrapping him in an unfamiliar yet soothing welcome.

Soft footsteps padded forward from the dim hallway, the hush of sleep still clinging to the emerging figure.

Twas a tall, broad-shouldered young man with tousled dark hair who rubbed at his eyes.

Traces of grogginess softened his hawkish features, but the instant his celestial-hued gaze focused on Issa, his limbs locked.

‘Issy?’ The raw utterance was disbelieving, yearning.

Seconds later, it morphed into a full-throated yell.

‘Issy!’

The next second, he barreled into her, lifting her off the floor into a crushing bear hug.

His arms hugged her in an unyielding hold.

Issa’s breath gasped out in surprise, laughing and clutching at her younger sibling, a Sacran almost as tall as Ki’Remi himself.

‘Iyanda!’ Issa choked out between laughter and tears, ‘Fokk, let me breathe—’

Before her brother could release her, another figure shot out from an inner bedroom, a streak of untamed, springy curls and golden-brown skin.

A screech of her name, high-pitched and filled with raw, unchecked joy, as the blur launched at her.

‘Issaaaaa!’

‘Safiyya!’ Issa called.

Issa’s youngest sister was a storm of movement.

Her eyes flashed with the molten brilliance of a wild galaxy, and her slender frame vibrated with boundless energy.

Unlike Iyanda’s petite yet muscled warrior physique, Safiyya was all nimbleness and grace, slim and willowy like a dancer.

Her presence was light and air, and her laughter rang through the space like a chime caught in the wind.

She clutched at Issa’s waist as if she feared she might disappear again, pressing her face into her sister’s nape with a muffled sob.

Ki’Remi stood alongside Issa’s parents, arms in his jumpsuit pocket, gazing on with a soft smile.