Reckless Cruel Heirs - Olivia Wildenstein Page 0,138

already chosen him, I would’ve at that very moment.

Nima took my hand. “Let’s go home.”

Home . . . I considered pinching myself to make sure this was actually happening.

Remo slid me a gentle smile as we passed by him and Faith, one that made me want to reach out and take his hand. I didn’t, though, since I was already holding my mother’s. Plus his mom was right there . . .

Nima came to a brutal halt outside our cave as her gaze alighted on the body standing across the sandy aisle from us—Cruz. Neenee’s fist was already shoved against her mouth, and her gray eyes shimmered with tears, the same tears that seemed to adorn everyone’s faces. Well, everyone but Remo’s, stoic man that he was.

“Cruz?” Nima whispered, his name rolling off her tongue. “Oh, Great Gejaiwe, Cruz!” She dropped my hand and covered the distance between them in three quick strides. She didn’t touch him. Didn’t hug him. Just stared unblinkingly, taking in the flash of green behind wayward black curls, the hardened lines of his face, the soft mouth, the cords of lean muscles stretching out from his neck like calimbor roots.

He smiled at her. “Hi, Cat.”

She released a small, ragged peep, then finally touched his jaw. Just for a second, as though to make sure he was made of matter and not air. Once she’d ascertained he wasn’t a wandering spirit, she reeled her hand back and laid it over her heart.

Cruz tipped her a quiet smile, then directed his attention toward my aunt. “Lily.”

As Giya circled an arm around her mother’s waist, as though sensing Neenee would need the support to stay upright, she eyed me, then Remo, who stood beside me, so close that our hands grazed.

Remo’s pinky hooked mine, and I swear, my entire body reacted as though I’d been electrocuted by a Glade eel. I thought I’d been happy before falling asleep, but it didn’t come close to how I felt at that moment. Especially when I found him smiling down at me, that gorgeous, crooked smile I’d mistaken for smugness instead of what it truly was: a mix of bashfulness and heart.

A soft sob whispered over the walls of the cave, reminding me that we weren’t alone. I found Cruz stepping toward Neenee, who was shaking as hard as a panem leaf during a windstorm. It was such a strange sight to behold: Cruz looking more like her son than an ex-fiancé. I couldn’t imagine how strange it must’ve been for them to lay eyes on each other after so many years.

His hands came around her, and then his lips moved gently against her ear, pouring words that seemed to bring her more grief than comfort. Her arms snared him, too, and a spine-tingling rush of air splintered out of her mouth.

The lost one had been found, and yet the pain of loss lingered.

How long would it last? Forever? Could such agony ever be forgotten?

Remo hooked my fingers, and I crushed his palm, wishing nothing would tear us apart but knowing something or someone eventually would.

However united or magical, we remained two separate vulnerable beings.

44

Home

“Where’s Kiera?” Giya’s question had me glancing around the dark space.

“Last I saw her, she was by the train crater, skinning one of the tigri,” Cruz said.

I wrinkled my nose, imagining her elbow-deep in gore. I hoped it was helping her work through her grief.

“And Quinn?” Remo asked.

Cruz frowned. “Quinn bit the apple yesterday. Didn’t Amara tell you?”

Remo’s eyes, as well as everyone else’s, fell on me. “No. She failed to mention that.”

My cheeks flooded with heat, which worsened when their eyes fell to our clasped hands. My fingers froze and skidded from his. He tried to catch them, but I stepped away.

“Quinn?” Nima asked.

“Forest Press Quinn,” Cruz said, and Nima gasped.

“If you think that’s crazy, Neenee, wait till you learn who else was stashed in here,” Giya added.

“Who?” Her question was a rush of breath.

“Good old Uncle Kingston.”

“Kingston?” Nima’s voice was so murderously sharp it would’ve sliced my traitorous uncle wide open had he still had a body to rip through.

“He’s gone, though. Amara made him bite the apple.” A hint of pride edged my cousin’s proclamation.

“What are you all talking about, biting apples?” Faith asked.

Remo’s brow furrowed. “Didn’t Grandfather tell you anything before he let you in here?”

“He was . . . indisposed when we were shown through the portal.” Faith’s mouth pursed.

Indisposed? I wanted to know what that meant, but shouting erupted at the

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