Bound by Forever (True Immortality #3) - S. Young Page 0,60

seat-belt sign pinged above his head, even though there was no turbulence. The senior flight attendant hurried down the aisle past him and disappeared into the cockpit. Kiyo frowned, his sixth sense telling him something was wrong.

He got up out of his seat and casually strolled down the aisle, pricking his wolf ears to hear beyond the cockpit door.

“… no idea. There’s no turbulence, no storm, but the instruments are going haywire.”

The hair on his neck stood on end and he looked toward Niamh. Glad most of the other passengers were asleep, Kiyo darted around the aisle and toward his companion. The energy radiating from her swarmed him like he’d just hit a cloud of hot air.

It was her.

She was causing the problem with the plane.

Shit.

Leaning into her suite, he gently shook her. “Niamh. Wake up.”

An agonized moan fell from her lips.

She was having a nightmare.

Without thought, Kiyo climbed onto the bed, stretching out beside her so he could pull her into his body. He pressed his lips to her ear. “Niamh, wake up. Come on, wake up. Everything’s okay.”

She shuddered against him and her eyes flew open.

The leaking energy seemed to whoosh back into her like a vacuum.

Turning her head, her eyes widened in confusion to find him lying beside her. “What happened?”

“You were dreaming,” he murmured, his grip on her tightening. “You were causing some electrical issues with the plane.”

“Oh hell. Is everyone okay?”

Kiyo nodded and settled more comfortably beside her as she turned to face him. Niamh rested her cheek on the pillow, her hands curled up by her chin. She looked young and so very lost, staring into his face with those big, wounded eyes.

“Do you want to tell me what you were dreaming about?”

“Ronan. I dream about the day he died. It gets all muddled up with other stuff. Things that happened in the past.”

“What happened to him?”

She released a shaky exhale. “I haven’t spoken about it.”

“I think that’s the problem.”

Kiyo thought she wasn’t going to respond, but her hushed voice carried between them. “I made us leave Rome because I just had this feeling we needed to be in Munich. And when we got there, I had a vision of Rose. I knew she needed me. Sure enough, we found her running away from Fionn and being chased by The Garm. We took her back to an unoccupied apartment we’d broken into. Unbeknownst to us, Rose’s coven was also chasing her and they found us there. I had a vision …” She broke off, one of her hands curling into a fist beneath her chin. “I saw him die before he did. But it was too late. I told him to run … but it was too late.”

Kiyo released a pained huff. How damn awful to see that and not be able to prevent it. Her vigilante efforts via the visions made a lot more sense.

“The coven did what Meghan tried to do to Conall. They stole Ronan’s life force, his energy, to make them more powerful so they could take Rose down.” Rage flared gold in her eyes. “They had to know he wasn’t enough. That killing him was pointless. I tried … I tried to give him my blood, but my wound kept closing because I heal so fast and he was too far gone. He just …”

Kiyo reached out, wrapped his hand around her tight fist. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t it? My very existence is the reason my brother is dead.”

“Your brother loved you. He wouldn’t have stayed by your side otherwise.”

Tears filled her eyes. “That’s the worst part. Just hours before he died, I had a thought that I had been having more and more as time went on. Did my brother love me or what my powers could do for him? That’s what I thought. That was my ungrateful pondering. And he was killed because of what I am.”

A frown puckered Kiyo’s brow as he considered this. “You must have thought that for a reason.” He caressed her fist with his thumb. “What made you think that?”

She shrugged wearily. “Ronan was the one who talked me into using the gifts to make our lives easy. Stealing. Manipulating people. We were always on the move, but we lived well. He loved the life. He loved what my gifts could give us. And he was overprotective of me. In a way that felt stifling sometimes. Like … he was afraid if he lost me, he’d lose the life he loved.” Guilt

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