Pausing at the large hatch above my head, I wait until Caben climbs up behind me, his body pressing against my backside as he reaches for the latch. With a grunt, he flings the hatch open, and it lands with a hollow boom.
That sound reverberates through me with a subsequent, affecting silence. Trying to ignore the flooding emotions at having Caben so near, I enter his lair.
I shouldn’t have expected anything less than remarkable from Caben. He’s such a hedonist, this I knew. But there are also small, personal touches everywhere that give it life, make it something other than just breathtaking. Like the framed photo of Caben and his mother when he was a boy. It’s a handmade frame, probably from the same wood used to construct this very place.
As I roam the first level, my feet lead me toward the massive windows lining the whole area. My chest actually aches at the beauty of the ocean, the sunrise filling the timber and glass home with warm oranges and reds. I immediately think of the Goddess Monique, and her paintings and statues, all colors requisite of love.
It’s as if Caben somehow captured her essence here.
Maybe I should have prayed to Monique many times over, because I suddenly find myself completely at a loss. But this isn’t a date. Caben’s not bringing me to his home where we’ll talk for hours, make love near the fire pit, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. I’m not his lover.
I’m his prisoner.
And yes, the man I love is trapped somewhere inside this callous shell. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to reach him before it’s too late.
“Are you cold?”
Caben’s voice throws me, and I turn and stare at him. It’s such a simple question, yet implies his concern for me. I need to keep him in this frame of mind for as long as I can.
“I am.”
He removes his cloak and tosses it over the back of a large couch. I watch as he kneels beside the fire pit and places his hands over the kindling. My brow furrows, confusion pulling at my features, until I see the white spark between his palms.
I’ve felt his power before. Or rather, the power that Bale’s bestowed him through her… But I’ve been at the end of it. The pain. I flinch now at seeing it ignite the pit into a roaring fire.
“A lame trick,” he says. But it’s anything but.
The truth crashes over me, cold and alarming. Drinking away Bale’s voice doesn’t suppress any of her powers. They might even be growing stronger the nearer we get to the new moon. And Caben’s mental deterioration is definitely becoming worse.
That’s a lethal combination. I’m a fool for being in the same vicinity, in the same country as him. Suddenly, I think of my mother. How she stuck by my father for all those years; his hatred, rants, abuse. For the first time ever, I feel close to her. Kindred. More so, I can empathize with her.
I don’t want to think on that much longer, so I move to sit near the warmth of the flames. The sun has risen fully into the sky, and the glass treehouse shimmers with morning light. It feels wrong seeing it in reverse. Like if we’d all just went to sleep last night instead of battle, waking to this day would have been so altered.
There’s nothing that could’ve changed last night’s outcome, though. Not a million ways we could have done things differently. I doubt I’ll live long enough to regret them.
How many times can one person accept their gloomy fate?
I actually want to laugh. I’d accepted mine in the Cage. That should have been it. The finale. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do it again—and this time, knowing I have zero control over saving Caben.
At least before, I was resigned. Caben would go on, live, be the king of Perinya. My family and friends would live their lives, too. Now I have no consolation with which to bow out of this world.
I feel cheated.
“Heroes aren’t supposed to just fade out like this.” Caben’s words startle me from my morbid thoughts.
I look away from the fire to his face, the auburn glow bathing his features in a tranquil aura. When his words actually process, it’s as if he’s reading my mind. Maybe he can; who knows the full extent of his powers. I have nothing to hide.
Working up my courage, I scoot closer to him, beside his crossed legs aimed out at the pit. “Like there’s supposed to be…something. I don’t know. Like in the Cage. Everything crescendoed. I understand what you’re saying, Caben.” I reach for his hand, and he allows me to take it. “This is a tame ending compared to that climax. But maybe we weren’t meant to be the heroes of this story.”
He closes his fingers around my hand. “I’m too selfish to be anyone’s hero. Even yours, Kal.” His silver-blue eyes flick to mine. “There’s too many unseemly things I want to do to you.”
Through this dismal state, I get a glimpse of the real Caben. And a blush creeps over my cheeks. How stupid—but also, how human. I don’t want to spend these last moments fearing. I failed. Caben failed. Are we supposed to curl into ourselves and wither away? Right here?
Caben’s thumb skims the top of my hand, sending a tingle through me. “Such a man,” I say.
His lips twitch on the verge of a smile. Then he cocks his head and winks.
I think this is how the rest of today will be. Unlike our uncontrollable first attempt on the beach, where the overwhelming need to devour couldn’t be contained, this is slow. Tentative but easy. A simmer rather than an inferno.