As if he hated her. With every fiber of his being.
Kiva’s heart shattered, and she took an automatic step backwards, but Ashlyn didn’t allow her further than that.
Her move broke something in the room, interrupting the shocked silence.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Caldon demanded, the first to speak. His gaze was fixed on Kiva, as if his sister didn’t exist. “And what happened to your face?”
Kiva raised her free hand to her cheek, having forgotten about the swelling. Much like with her shoulder, the Serpent’s Kiss had helped speed along the healing, but clearly not enough to make it disappear entirely. She was gratified to hear that Caldon sounded concerned, but there was no denying the anger in his expression — directed at her. She had no idea how he felt after everything that had happened in Vallenia, despite him having given her the chance to run.
Struggling to untangle her panicking thoughts, all Kiva managed to croak out in response was, “Is Tipp here? And Naari?”
It was the smallest of movements, but Kiva’s eyes were drawn back to Jaren when his body stilled. His jaw clenched, the gold in his eyes became a flame surrounded by ocean, his expression as hard as slate.
And then he was striding forward.
Toward Kiva.
Ashlyn’s grip turned painful, but Kiva could barely feel it, every part of her coming alive as he closed the distance between them. Despite everything she’d done to him, she knew he would never harm her, not like Navok had. And yet, she still braced for his reaction, unable to keep from whispering his name, the word full of remorse, full of longing.
“Jaren, I —”
But she didn’t get to finish. Because without giving her a second glance, he walked right past where she and Ashlyn stood, straight out into the night, slamming the heavy door behind him.
Kiva winced at the sound, her heart tearing into a million more pieces.
“Go after him before he does something stupid.”
For one wild moment, Kiva thought Caldon was speaking to her, but then Ashlyn replied, “That’s the first thing you say to me in three years? Really?”
“Ash, now isn’t the time for —”
“It’s never the time,” Ashlyn said, her voice bitter, but Kiva could hear the hurt in it. Even so, the princess loosened her fingers and gave Kiva an encouraging squeeze before disappearing out of the command center after Jaren.
Left standing on her own, Kiva looked toward her brother and Cresta again, along with the unfamiliar young man guarding them. She wanted to ask if they could be released — or at least get an explanation for their presence at Stoneforge — but before she could say anything, Caldon was moving her way, his long steps full of purpose.
“You and me, outside. Now.”
Not giving her a chance to argue, he grabbed her hand and yanked her out into the balmy night air, dragging her through the entire length of the army camp until they were well away from any buildings and patrolling guards. Only when they were on the outskirts of the valley near where the perimeter fence touched the encroaching forest did he finally release her and turn so they were facing each other.
The moonlight revealed his expression still set with anger, and Kiva swallowed, unsure what to say now that he was before her. But as she looked at him, she remembered all he’d done for her, all he was to her. More than anyone else, perhaps even Jaren, Caldon had always been her fiercest protector, her most loyal friend. He’d known the truth about her all along, and he’d still found a way to love her, regardless of who she was and the threat she posed.
I’ve never met anyone who shines as brightly as you do.
Kiva’s eyes began to well as she recalled what he’d once said to her. He’d believed in her; he’d trusted her. And, unintentionally or not, she’d betrayed him, along with everyone else.
She deserved to have him angry at her.
She deserved to have him hate her, just like Jaren did.
She deserved to have him —
A finger beneath Kiva’s chin halted her wretched thoughts, her head tilting backwards until her teary eyes met Caldon’s. At the sight, his lips became a firm line, his anger growing, but then his cobalt gaze moved over her face, taking in her gaunt features, the bruise on her cheek, the devastated expression she couldn’t hide even if she tried.
Whatever he saw caused his anger to bleed away, and then he sighed, long and loud, before releasing her chin only to tug her forward and pull her tight to his frame, wrapping his arms around her.
The move caught Kiva by surprise, enough that, for a moment, she just stood there, her arms hanging listlessly by her sides.
But then she finally comprehended that Caldon was hugging her, and she couldn’t control her reaction.
Right there, at the edge of the military outpost, Kiva burst into tears.
Everything she’d been feeling for months erupted out of her, her isolation and self-hatred from her time in Zalindov, her terror and confusion from being with Navok, her uncertainty, her heartache, her shame, her guilt — all of that and more came out as she sobbed against Caldon, her fingers clutching his chest, her tears soaking his shirt. The whole time, his hands moved soothingly on her back as he murmured, “Get it out, Sunshine. You’re all right. I’m here.”
The fact that he was calling her Sunshine only made her cry harder and begin uttering sob-choked declarations that she was a horrible person and he shouldn’t forgive her and she’d never wanted any part in what happened but it was still all her fault. She was hysterical, but she couldn’t stop, not until she’d finally exhausted herself enough that she could barely hold up her own weight.
Caldon continued holding her until her sobs quieted and her tears dried. Only then did he ease away slightly to look into her swollen eyes and ask, “Feel better?”
Kiva sniffed and nodded. It wasn’t the complete truth, but crying had left her purged and partially numb, which was preferable to the alternative.
“Good,” Caldon said. He then muttered, “You’d have to, after all that.” He pointed to her face. “You’re disgusting, by the way. I’ve never seen so much snot and tears in my life. You could have filled a lake.” He pulled his shirt away from his body, cringing at how damp it was. “The things I do for you.”
Instead of laughing as he’d intended, Kiva felt new tears well in her eyes at how he was treating her. At how normal he seemed.
“No, gods, please don’t start again.” Caldon raised his hands in a pleading sign. “I don’t have anything dry left for you to snot into.”
This time, a weak laugh left Kiva.
Caldon smiled, triumphant, and quietly said, “There she is.”
Kiva’s lips wobbled, but she forced in a deep breath, wiped her face, and regained control.
“I’m sorry,” she said croakily. “I just — I thought you — I wasn’t sure if — And then you —”
“I get it,” Caldon cut her off. “And honestly, I’d planned to make you work harder for it. But you just looked so pathetic standing there with those puppy-dog eyes and the weight of the world on your shoulders. It was impossible not to put you out of your misery.”
It took great effort for Kiva not to start crying again. “I was scared you’d hate me. Like J-Jaren.” She stumbled over his name, as if there was a dagger caught in her throat.