Page 23 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn

She’s a Zenith’s daughter, and I fucking want that formyself. Theentirepackage, the one when she’s completely reborn.

And yet, as I look at her pretty face now, that sickening feeling of something hunting her is completely clear—if the Scorpion means what he says, then this isnothinglike trying to keep her safe from the Council.

I remove my hand from Jane’s soft hair, her walls mostly down, even if she’s thinking of pushing me away. I’ll let her believe she can if it gives her some sense of control.

But as long as a part of her still craves me, I’ll be weak to that call.

“Someone needs to get Kathleen,” she murmurs, as if the thought left her mouth as soon as it entered her mind. “I know you said people will be looking out for her, but if she gets hurt because ofme?—”

Jane aggressively toys with one of her fingers, as if considering all the things that could go wrong. It’s odd to feel thoughts of Kathleen no longer bring her comfort—when I stare at Jane, I can picture a fleeting image of a blonde with no face that mixes deeply with a longing for friendship, a depth of solitude crowding her heart as if to block out the familial affection. As far as I know, she has no idea that Kathleen owes the Scorpion; I know better than to tell her thatnow.

She wants to pull away so badly, like a wounded animal who craves the pack but trusts only its own shadow.

Ah—it connects; Jane doesn’t know what it’s like to let others sacrifice for her. At least, not directly. Everything in me wants to tame the lone animal so she may one day smile without burden.

The instincts that seem to fail me as of late seem so powerful right now, to the point I can almost hear a voice telling me that her pain, her fears, her heart—all of it—belongs to me. That the fates crossed our paths for a reason, promising that I could give her everything ofmyselfwithout reservation.

I’veneverexperienced this before.

But every time I will my arms to move, the same powers simultaneously scream to leave her be.

The deeply protective side of me that belongs to family claws out to her, as if I’mseeinga future where Jane has been mine fordecades. Like a vision, maybe… I don’t see visions, though. More like imprints.

It doesn’t matter, because just even the suggestion that I’ve found that person is enough to erupt a swell of rage thatsomeoneneeds to suffer for what’s been brutally done to Jane’s life. For the family she’s lost.

Space. Give her space.

Jane unequivocally needs time to process all of this—there’s no argument there, even without my powers to tell me that. I’ve seen many faced with this exact metamorphosis, and the final result can only be driven byher. In that, it makes sense now why everything told me to take her down here; there was no way for her to evolve without this encounter.

While I’m speechless as I try to navigate everything that overwhelms me, an energy precedes someone entering the cleared-out throne room and, of course, declares that I’m needed. One glance at Jane and she straightens up, immediately numbing every part of her so she can remain alert.

You’ve been on guard for too long, love.

There’s no point in trying to fight this, though. I can’t read the Scorpion for shit, and yet there’s no danger surrounding him; hedoesfeel safe for Jane. Blackwell might have been a wall of nothingness, but the energyaroundhim was dire. Putrid, even.

She’ll be safe if I leave her. Probably best, too. She could use the quiet.

Standing, my heart pounds, and I know it’s because I need to rest, maybe eat an entire cow’s liver. Jane’s determination changes to deep concern—I glance down, her hazel eyes bright with worry. I touch her cheek, apprehension flooding her as I drop the hand to give her my back.

She’s safer in here than she has been since I first found her.

“Stay alert, Jane,” I say, only able to concentrate on so much with how lightheaded I am. “Even if you’re among your people here.”

I hate to leave her; this burning desire to remain is wrapped in so many layers of wanting to know what the hells I feel when around her. Is it the fates? My own biased heart? Some other force manipulating me?

Ineveranticipated to find anything akin to this, to experience such a powerful push to a single person. Ever since entering here, it’s as loud as a storm.

Clearly, it has to be the rubies. They’re a magic source, aren’t they? Is Cypress manipulating me so I agree to her bidding? Is it evenmanipulationif I give in without a single fight?

Later. Focus on what’s here. On those around.

I’m taken along a narrow hall, stained glass windows fitted into the stone so the candlelight from whatever room it connects to can carry through—not only is there a lot of noise, but extensive energy.

I’m guided in there, the sensation of everyone’s unique vibrations so much easier to define—uncertainty, curiosity, and observing me as an outlier floods the space.

For a moment, my mind warns me Ritter is about to confront me in front of his men, but my instinct tells me it’s not the case. I sense privacy, as if I’d blink and the room would disappear; a sign that this room is negligible and I’ll imminently be sitting somewhere quieter.

For having no fucking luck with my powers, they’re suddenly as clear as polished crystal.