Page 163 of Bonds of Starfall

Atlas let the scene fizzle away as his shadows took him elsewhere.

18

OBLIVION

FOUR MONTHS AGO

Kit walked into Rin’s bedroom, his heart heavy.

She was so beautiful lying there. The canopy draped around the soft, fluffy sheets made the whole scene appear soaked in a haze of surreality. Delicate and divine.

For just one moment, she didn’t know he was there, and he was able to watch her without her knowledge.

The twinge in his chest grew.

Pressure closed around him. How could he keep her safe forever?

Would he be able to?

Forever… was a long time. And she wasn’t guaranteed it; not in this life. At least they could try again next time. The thought was far from hopeful. Depressing. His only ray of light and saving grace, melodious and solemn, was death.

Her death—and his.

Even then, Kit and Rin were not guaranteed to meet in their next life.

He sighed, the weight of his uniform pressing against his shoulders. It suffocated him.

Sheets rustled as Rin turned on the bed, face lifted toward the thin strips of moonlight that pierced through the curtains.

Her hand curled under her chin as she blinked up at him. His boots were quiet on the carpet as he walked to her bedside, sitting slowly.

He stared at her, the lip of his dark cap casting a faint shadow above his brow, allowing his attention to narrow until she was all he saw.

Kit wanted her to ask him to stay, but it was such a selfish thing—she had a life beyond him. To her, he would forever remain an overprotective brotherly figure; though, the things he wished to do to her were far from brotherly.

"Are you sure you don’t need me to"—Kit shook his head—"to stay?"

Please, his Soul begged,ask me to stay.

"Go, Kit. Do what you have to do… When the time comes, and I might be called away because of duty, I’d want you to tell me to go, too."

He nodded. Right. They all had parts to play—and this would always be his.

As if sensing his unrest, her hand moved across the duvet, dragging lightly as her fingertips walked across the surface, until finally they brushed against his gloved hand.

He swallowed thickly as he turned his palm up, lacing their fingers together. He wanted to remove the glove. Burn it. Feel her warmth beneath his palm in truth.

The ceiling fan above stirred Rin’s white hair where it spilled over the pillows. The coolness chased away the summer heat of late August, the type that brought a sort of melancholy he would forever remember. Right when summer fell into fall.

Solar City was always reluctant to give in to the fall. Summer lingered far too long. And the glass shine of packed skyscrapers and stone buildings only made everything hotter, sharper.

At least here, in the lazy suburbs, there were trees and grass. The ceiling fan barely droned out the buzz of the cicadas beyond the walls of this home—his hell.

"Your medicine is on the counter," Kit said. "I refilled your prescription for you, just in case."

He knew she wouldn’t take the medicine. She only took what she had to. Never the myriad of pills that were prescribed to her by countless, faceless doctors. All beholden to the Blackfalls.

Kit was glad she made the choice. Because if she did try to take those pills, he would never allow it. Neither would Lucien. They’d do whatever it took. Flush them, replace them with placebos. But never let her swallow them down. However, as if sensing something, Rin never took anything more than she had to.