Page 47 of The First Spark (Dynasty of Fire #1)

The door swung open. Zane leaned against the edge, frowning. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. He hadn’t changed out of his rumpled clothes, so he hadn’t been sleeping. Kalie peered around him. The room looked empty, thank the gods.

“What’s going on?”

I need someone right now , she nearly said, but admitting that felt like a risk, and she didn’t trust her voice not to break. “I can’t sleep.”

Zane raised his eyebrows. “So you came here? You do know it’s two in the morning, don’t you?”

I’m breaking, and I know you’ll understand. “Do you have anything better to do?”

She’d been trying for offhand snark, but Zane’s frown deepened. Scanning the hallway, he sighed and stepped aside. “Do you want to come in? ”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Her voice cracked. She dug her nails into her palms, willing herself not to break. It looked like he was trying to catch her eye, but she avoided his gaze as she strode across the threshold.

The door clicked shut. Zane’s presence hovered behind her.

Standing in the midst of dusty armchairs, she hugged her arms to her chest. This wasn’t just a mistake.

This could be a disaster. She’d ordered her Praetors to remain at the door to her suite, but the walls on Etov had eyes, and the last thing she needed was for rumors to spread.

But she was so, so tired. Let them talk.

Let Selene turn her visit into something wicked and sinful.

For one night, she needed a friend.

“What’s going on, Kalie?” Zane asked lowly, as he stepped around her.

“I just feel…” Her throat thickened, and she pressed her hands to her face. “Like the world’s spinning out of control. Like something snapped, and everything went horribly wrong, and all I want is to go back to the way it used to be. I’d give anything.”

“Yeah. I know how that feels.” He dropped onto the couch nearest to the spotless window and motioned for her to sit. Beyond the glass pane, twinkling stars lit the night sky.

Drawing in a hitching breath, Kalie sank onto the cushion beside him. “Did you see the article about the civilians the legionnaires killed?”

Zane’s jaw tightened, and he nodded.

“The little girl in the third photo. She had Lex’s hair.

Auburn, like Uncle Jacyn’s.” The world turned glossy as a knot swelled in her throat.

“I dreamt of the drone strike. I saw Aunt Calida dead. And I saw…” As she said it, she was seeing it again, living it, and she trembled viciously.

“I saw Lex scream as the rubble crushed her, and I saw her body split open, gushing blood—gods above, she was only four. It should’ve been me. Why wasn’t it me?”

Zane’s fingers curled around hers. They were calloused, but warm and comforting. “Asking yourself that question won’t bring her back. It’ll only destroy you.”

Choking on a weak sob, Kalie closed her eyes .

“Describe her to me. Tell me how you remember her.”

She shook her head. She didn’t want to remember, that was the problem.

Lexie’s wide, gap-toothed smile was clear as day in her memory, but if she tried to focus on it, blood bubbled from her shattered baby teeth, and her eyes turned dim and lifeless.

Thinking of Aunt Calida was no better, and every time she thought of Ariah, she saw blasts leaving smoking holes in her chest.

“Trust me,” Zane said. “Just give it a try.”

Kalie swallowed. The stories she could tell about Lex would fill a whole volume.

“She was always laughing. Always. She was so much like Ariah, she idolized her, but she was the spitting image of Uncle Jacyn. If not for her eyes, I think everyone would’ve doubted she was Aunt Calida’s. Night and day, those two.”

For as long as she could remember, Aunt Calida had been poised and proper. Granted, Lex was only four, but even at that age, Kalie had been mimicking Aunt Calida’s behaviors. Lexie was a wild child in every sense of the word, like her father before her.

“Aunt Calida wanted her in tutus and ballet slippers. Lex preferred markers and skinned-up knees. She was a diva, though.” Kalie gave a watery chuckle and swiped at her stinging eyes. “She loved climbing and running, but gods forbid her outfit didn’t match.”

Zane snorted. “Sounds like my mom.”

Kalie smiled, but it faltered all too quickly.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she rested her chin in her hands.

“She was the sweetest soul,” she whispered, as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“You know those people who just glow from within? That was Lex. She was wild, she was loud, but everyone loved her. She would’ve made a wonderful duchissa someday. ”

Zane gave her a sad smile as he swept away her falling tears. “That’s how you should remember her. The end doesn’t define her life. When the nightmares come, replace it with those memories. Remember her in life, not in death.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, Kalie nodded. In her memories, Lexie grinned and waved, flung her feather boa around her neck, then sprinted into the sunny gardens. “Thank you.”

“She was too young,” Zane muttered, gazing out the window .

Kalie blinked back tears. “She was.”

He squeezed her hand. They sat in silence, with only the crackling fire for company.

“When the world starts spinning again,” he said at last, “I’m always here. I can be your anchor.”

Kalie turned, so their faces were inches apart—close enough that the heat of his minty breath caressed her face.

There was nothing false or mocking in his expression, and his eyes were somber but earnest as they met hers.

The offer was genuine, and gods, she needed it.

No one else understood. No one else would sit with her in the night and dry her tears.

No one would sit with him after his nightmares, either.

She looked down at their clasped hands and brushed her thumb across his knuckles. “I can be yours.”

His breathing stilled.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. For anything.”

A flash of panic darted across his face, and his eyes darted to the door. Smoothing her thumb across his knuckles, Kalie offered him a reassuring smile. Not tonight, then. When he was ready to tell her about his own nightmares, she would listen.

The fire snapped and hissed as it consumed a log, devouring it until nothing but ash was left.

Crows cawed beyond the window. Distant footsteps thumped against the ceiling.

Normally, she hated the silence. Silence meant loneliness, it meant loss, but this was different.

Kalie breathed out slowly. This was comfortable, and with her soft shawl wrapped around her shoulders and her hand resting in his, the last of the night terrors faded from her mind.

“I owe you an apology,” she murmured.

“You already apologized.”

“It was a pathetic apology.”

A wry gleam shone in Zane’s eyes. “Yeah, it kinda was.”

She lowered her gaze to the burgundy carpet.

“I don’t know where to start. I’m sorry.

About your grandparents, your father, your barony.

Gods, I love Aunt Calida, but I don’t know what she was thinking.

Your grandfather was a war hero. Your father…

I owe him a debt for saving Aunt Calida.

You should’ve been a baron from the mo ment he passed, and I…

” She shook her head. “I’m truly sorry, Zane. More than words can express.”

“None of the blame for any of that lies with you. You hadn’t even been born.”

“Maybe. But I do owe you a debt, and ripping open your old wounds was a poor way to repay it. I can’t believe I haven’t said this yet, but…

” Look him in the eye. Pressing her lips together, she forced herself to look up at him.

“I’m sorry for your losses. All of them.

Your family, your squad, your…” Her gaze flitted to the metal beads peeking out from under his shirt, and she swallowed. “For everyone.”

“Thank you,” he said hoarsely.

“And for what it’s worth…” Maybe it was her imagination, but his eyes seemed as glossy as hers. “You are the furthest thing from a coward. You’re far, far braver than I could ever be.”

“I don’t know,” Zane said, with a hint of teasing in his tone. “It takes some serious guts to negotiate your way out of captivity. Or to look the Prime Minister of the entire Federation in the eye and tell him to rot in hell.”

She grimaced. “That was reckless.” And reckless or not, she’d sworn an oath on her soul. She had to kill Carik now, or die trying.

Zane surprised her with a laugh. “You’d be boring if you always played it safe.”

“Glad to know I don’t bore you, then,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Zane grinned, but it withered into a frown. “If we’re settling the score on apologies, I should apologize for that night in the bar.” He chafed his free hand against the back of his neck. “It wasn’t my finest hour.”

The smirking, arrogant drunk who’d snarled at her on the Chimaera seemed like an eternity ago, worlds away from the man who’d bandaged her wounds and dried her tears.

It was almost jarring to remember what he’d looked like then, with rumpled clothes that stank of a stripper’s perfume and breath reeking of alcohol.

She’d hated that man, but gods, she liked this one.

He didn’t coddle her, like that boy she’d ghosted at boarding school, he didn’t belittle her, like Ariah’s pathetic exes, he didn’t try to shape her into his ideal, like Julian.

He saw her, for better or worse, and maybe, just maybe…

Maybe the ma n she was looking at now was the one she should’ve been seeing all along.

“You don’t need to apologize.” He looked like he was about to protest, but she held up her hand. “My grandmother is your Carik. I see that now. And I’m going to make it up to you someday, I promise.”