loved her since we were kids . . . when Mira and I both were raised by the Order.”
No one said a word. Even Candice now looked at him in anticipation. “You are Order?”
“Was,” he corrected. “A long time ago.”
He told them about the destruction of his family’s Darkhaven when he was thirteen years old, how he and his grandfather Lazaro Archer, the owner of the place they now occupied, were accepted into the Order’s protection. He told them how he met an eight-year-old, pale-haired, stubborn little imp who’d refused to let him sulk over everything he’d lost, refusing to let him give up and forcing him to accept her as his friend. He told them how that same little imp had blossomed into an amazing woman and impressive warrior, how he and Mira had trained together with the Order, eventually becoming members of the same patrol team.
And then he told them how, after finally admitting to himself that he’d fallen in love with her, after at last giving in to the desire they shared for each other, his world came crashing down in an instant, when he glimpsed his future in her extraordinary eyes.
He told them about the warehouse explosion that should have killed him, but didn’t. And how he’d been a coward, taking what he thought to be the easiest way out—running as far and as fast as he could from the vision he dreaded—and letting Mira and everyone else he cared about at the time believe he truly was dead.
“I thought I was being so careful, making sure our paths never crossed.” He uttered a low curse. “And then the call came in from the field, after the grab on Ackmeyer didn’t go off the way we’d planned. When I heard we snagged a member of the Order . . . a female warrior . . . I should’ve told you all then. I think I was still fooling myself that I could escape this. That I could evade the inevitable.”
“Sounds like you’re giving up, boss.” Doc eyed him like the field surgeon he was, examining a mortal wound. “Sounds to me like you brought us here to say good-bye.”
“I needed to do what I could to see that the three of you had the chance to come out of this unscathed,” Kellan said, not yet ready to talk about farewells. “I want you to think about where you’re heading with your lives, after all of this is over.”
“What about you and Mira?” Candice asked gently.
He shook his head slowly, considering. “I need to know she’s going to be safe too. She belongs with the Order; that’s her family. They’ll look after her. They’ll help her through.”
Candice watched him, her hazel-green eyes far too wise. “And you, Kellan? Where does all of this leave you?”
He grunted, wry with resignation. “Right back where I started.”
At least he had honesty in this moment, with these people. At least he had a few precious days and nights with Mira, a gift that made any price he paid more than worth the cost.
He had her love.
She would always have his heart.
“I think she’s finally awake,” Nina said, a moment after Kellan heard a bump of movement coming from the bedroom down the hall.
He was already heading that way, jolted into action by a sudden burst of pain passed to him through the blood bond. His long strides ate up the distance. He opened the door and found the bed empty, covers pushed aside. “Mira?”
He saw her a second later, on the floor near the foot of the bed. Her hands were wrapped around her shin. As soon as Kellan opened the door, his nostrils flared with the inhaled punch of her lily-scented blood. “Jesus Christ. What happened?”
“N-nothing,” she stammered. He saw now that she had a bleeding gash on her leg. “I must’ve been half asleep when I got out of bed. I banged my shin into the bed frame.”
“I’ll get you something for it.” He dashed into the bathroom to wet a washcloth, then brought the cold compress back out to her. “Here, use this.”
Her fingers trembled shakily as she took the cloth from him and put it on her wound. It wasn’t anything serious, but the fact that she had stumbled—Mira, as sure-footed a female as he’d ever seen and a combat-proven warrior besides—made a cold knot form in his gut. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” she replied quickly. Too quickly. And the blood bond told him another story. He