Page 95 of Swords of Soul and Shadow (Gate Chronicles #3)

Kase’s tent was sparse and impersonal for the most part, but maybe it only felt that way because the tent she still shared with her parents was cramped with three adults.

His held a cot with a green coverlet tossed haphazardly into a ball at the end, the pillow askew as if he’d slept nearly hanging his head off the side.

His pilot jacket was folded neatly next to the pillow, and a shuttered gas lantern sat upon the ground.

She flicked that on with a soft popping sound.

His pack lay tucked under the cot, the mouth open, a few of his personal effects inside including a leatherbound book spilling out.

Hallie picked up the book. She couldn’t help it.

She had Frankenstein back in her parents’ tent, tucked away in her pack.

Sadly, she hadn’t had the mind to read it lately, for it reminded her too much of her current situation.

While she hadn’t died and been stitched together with thread, the power within her certainly made her feel like a monster.

She’d done monstrous things like killing and bringing down entire forts.

She’d led Niels to what was likely to be his death.

Add Saldr’s revelations to the pile, and she might deserve whatever fate awaited her.

She sat on the cot and inspected the leather book. Flipping to the first page, she expected typeface and the title. Instead, she found unfamiliar handwriting. The script was neat and evenly spaced. Each letter was formed with care. Hallie was jealous. Her writing was untidy at the best of times.

The first page went like:

Hals,

Heard some good gossip today while waiting for the privy. Well, it wasn’t gossip, necessarily. But I guess it would be now if I’m telling you? Whatever…

She froze. It was written to her. She scanned the rest of the page and flipped through a few other pages. They were all letters, and each were signed ‘Always, Kase.’

She fanned through the rest of the book, which was close to halfway full. All of them were addressed to her, but they varied in length and content. Had he meant to send them? Earlier, she’d wondered why he’d only sent her one message while under house arrest.

He’d only sent one. But he’d written dozens.

She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. It helped thaw the ache in her heart. Just a little.

She read the first one about the lady in the privy line and laughed. She could hear his voice in her head, almost as if he was there telling her the story himself. She shouldn’t read the rest. What if she was spoiling some surprise he had planned?

She partway closed the book, her finger keeping her place. Putting it back would be the kind thing to do. He probably hadn’t meant for her to read them. It was an invasion of his privacy.

She bent to replace it, but hesitated.

Nevermind.

It was his fault he hadn’t hidden the book better. She flipped the book back open and read greedily.

She turned to the next one, expecting more humor…only to find it hidden among more serious topics, like how he thought Jove and his mother dead. It was personal, and she realized in the second letter it was essentially his diary.

Except she couldn’t stop reading. They were written to her, after all. Even if he’d never meant them as real letters, he’d obviously written them in such a way that they felt more like a conversation between them. It was the distraction she needed.

She read the first several, then read them again and again. Each word made her feel so much closer to him in a way she hadn’t realized she could feel. She smiled at the lines at the end of one of the more serious ones.

I lay awake at night wishing I could see the moons and stars.

Not because I want to comment on their beauty or how it still amazes me that our ancestors sped through them to find this planet.

No, I want to see them because I know wherever you are, you’re looking up at the same moons, the same stars, the same beautiful sky.

And if I think of that, I don’t feel so alone.

The corner of her eyes stung; out of love or sorrow, she wasn’t sure which. Both, probably.

Because the reality was, he would be alone at the end of this. They would no longer be able to look up at the same sky.

All the love and warmth and glee over the words he’d written crashed into an ice-cold abyss inside her. No matter which decision she made, it would take her away from him.

“Let me grab my jacket, will you?” Kase’s voice called from outside the tent.

Hallie sprang up, the journal falling to the floor. The tent flap opened as Hallie retrieved the book.

Kase froze in the entrance. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing.” Hallie whipped the book behind her back.

He raised a brow, his mouth pulling up into a smirk. The scar on that side of his face creased a little with the movement. “Is that so? Because if I didn’t know any better, I might say you were hiding something from me.”

Hallie shook her head. “Nothing.”

Well, she was hiding a lot of things, but nothing she wanted to discuss at that precise moment.

He stepped fully into the tent, the canvas closing behind him.

Stars, he was so tall. He must’ve recently finished a patrol on the hover, because his goggles were pushed into his hair—or maybe not, as he’d left his jacket here.

Or maybe he was on his way there? Hallie cursed herself for not waiting outside for him to return. Her thoughts were all jumbled.

“Well, if I were a betting man, I’d say you’ve been reading that little book,” Kase stepped close to her. “Shouldn’t be surprised, bibliophile that you are.”

Hallie backed up, but she stumbled at the edge of the cot. She would’ve fallen and probably hurt herself if Kase hadn’t caught her around the waist and pulled her to him.

He used the opportunity to pluck the journal from her fingers. Without loosening his hold on her, he held it up with his free hand. “You weren’t supposed to ever read these, you know.”

Hallie’s face burned, and she blurted, “I thought it might’ve been a novel or something and I was just waiting for you to come back and I’m sorry that I read them but I didn’t read them all—well maybe most of them but I—"

He tossed the journal next to the balled-up blanket and bent his head down, his lips hovering just above hers. She trailed off. He chuckled, “Did your mother never teach you manners, Miss Walker?”

Hallie held her breath.

The tent flap opened again. “Hurry it up, will you? Father’s waiting.”

Kase didn’t even look, only tugged off his goggles and chucked them at the entrance. “Go away.”

Hallie jumped, and Kase tightened his hold on her.

Her face burned even more than it had moments ago when she’d blundered through her explanation of reading his journal.

Kase turned a little to look at his brother.

She half hid in Kase’s arms, but she could still see Jove Shackley standing in the entrance, his arm propping the flap open.

He wore a smirk of his own—one so like Kase’s it was uncanny.

Jove held up Kase’s goggles. “Probably shouldn’t snog when you’re needed at the command tent, but if you ask nicely, I could probably buy you five minutes.

” He tossed the goggles back. “But I’ll call in a favor at a later date, of course. ”

Kase caught his goggles and tossed them on top of the journal. Hallie wanted to sink into the floor.

“Deal,” Kase said, turning away from him.

A grin split his face as Jove left. He touched his forehead to hers.

Her stomach clenched, and her mind went completely blank.

He slowly and deliberately brushed his nose against hers.

“We can probably get away with ten minutes alone, depending on the excuse he comes up with. He’s an overachiever. ”

Alone.

Alone…alone…

…And if I think of that, I don’t feel so alone.

The letter. That line.

Kase had his brother. He had his mother. He had Clara and Samuel. He even had her father, maybe her mother. He would never be alone again.

But if she reset time, he just might be.

That was a sobering thought.

And it made her decision for her.

She would find Correa and collect the Essence powers. When they restored both Gates, Jagamot wouldn’t be a threat, and Kase would be free.

It was the only way to save him with certainty.

Hallie couldn’t help it. She started to cry, though that word was woefully inaccurate.

It wasn’t the pretty kind where she sniffled a little and a few tears trickled down her cheeks.

No, it was the ugly kind that came with soul-spilling, heart-wringing tears and heaving shoulders and all the in-between.

She just stood there going from calm and fluttery at his intimate touch to full-out sobs in seconds, her fingers curling into fists over his heart, clinging to his shirt. Her shoulders shook.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Hallie!” Kase clasped her upper arms, inspecting her with frantic eyes, looking for the injury or blood or anything to explain her meltdown. “What happened? Are you hurt? Did I squeeze you too hard?”

She shook her head, but she couldn’t get out any words. She just did that awful gasping noise that meant she wasn’t getting enough air, but she couldn’t take a full breath. She just gasped harder.

Her death was inevitable if she wanted Kase to live the life he always deserved. She just wouldn’t get to be a part of it. The only way to save him was to rid herself of her power.

It was cruel. It wasn’t fair.

“Jove won’t tell anyone about us in here or anything, and I was just kidding about the ten minutes and even the five. If you don’t want to—we weren’t doing anything wrong—”

A muttered voice came from the front of the tent, but Hallie was crying too hard to hear the exact words.

“We’re fine. Just tell Jove I’ll be late,” Kase answered. Probably his guard.

The other man said something back, but she still couldn’t tell what.