Stricken (The War Scrolls Book 1) (18 page)

“Kiss me,” she mouthed. “Just…kiss me. Please.”

He couldn’t have denied her even had he wanted to. And he didn’t. He wanted nothing more than to feel her lips against his one more time.

He pressed his mouth to hers slowly, savoring the wash of her breath across his face and the way her lips parted for him. The ache in his chest intensified as her mouth moved with his, but he fought it back. With his lips upon hers, he told her what he’d never have the right to say aloud.

Their kiss was slow, gentle. And not even the taste of her tears overshadowed the perfection of the moment as she pressed herself closer to him, whispering his name. He pulled back reluctantly, raining kisses across her cheeks and eyelids.

“You need to sleep, Aubrey,” he whispered.

“So do you.”

“Not like you do. I’m not human.” He could go without sleep a few more days. Maybe.

“Stay,” she said, clinging to him. “Please, stay with me.”

“For as long as you need me,” he said, pulling her up in his arms and carrying her to the bed. He followed her down, allowing her to wrap herself around him. She sighed, twisting her fingers into his shirt as if to keep him from leaving while she slept. He stroked his fingers through her hair. “Sleep,” he whispered, pulling the blankets up over her with his free hand.

“Don’t leave me,” she mumbled.

For the first time since he’d met her, he lied to her.

“Never,” he promised.

Chapter Seventeen

The first rays of the early morning sun peeked over the horizon when Aubrey awoke. She’d slept undisturbed, as if Killian had shielded and protected her even in sleep, but she didn’t feel particularly rested or refreshed. She felt…sad. She stared into the murky light filtering into the room, not willing to move. Killian was still in the bed with her, cradling her to his body. He seemed more solid and real than anything else in her life.

What Jason told her had ripped old wounds wide open, just as she’d suspected might happen when she’d agreed to this trip. Only, there was no running from them this time. There was no belief that the human world could shelter her or take away the pain. There was only this—Killian’s hard chest beneath her cheek and the fear that what her father had done might kill the fierce warrior too.

She’d spent so long surrounded by death she’d thought she was used to it. She’d been wrong. All the time she’d spent believing she was cursed or being punished hadn’t prepared her for this. For contemplating that the Halfling who’d promised to keep her safe might die. That it’d be her father’s fault if he did.

She wanted to scream, to rail and cry that it wasn’t fair. That she didn’t want this. That she’d
never
wanted this. Not once had she ever wished for the innocent to die. Had she known what her father was doing or that this might happen, she would have stopped him. Begged, pleaded, whatever it took. It hurt to realize that in his quest to protect her and Aaron, he’d damned someone like Killian. How was that right or fair?

It wasn’t, of course.

“What are you thinking about?” Killian asked, running his fingers through her hair. They slipped through easily, as if he’d been doing the same thing all night and had kept the tangles away.

“You,” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep and emotion. “I don’t understand how my father could do this to all of you.” She sighed. Had he known she wouldn’t want this? Is that why he’d never told her?

That thought hurt too. All her life, she’d trusted her father. She’d believed he was a good man doing good work. That belief had kept her going when nothing else had. It had been her constant companion the last three years, providing solace when all else failed.

Only, he’d been a hypocrite, hadn’t he? He hadn’t been the hero she’d always thought him to be. He’d simply been a man. A scared man, subject to the same faults and foibles as everyone else. She wasn’t sure how to make that fit with her idea of him or how to be okay with where it had led him.

Killian’s breath fanned pieces of her hair before he shifted her onto her back to gaze down at her. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” His expression was grave in the early morning light.

“I’m not doi—”

“You’re torturing yourself.” He leaned down to press his lips to her forehead. “He’s not the one who released the virus, and neither are you.”

“He created it, though,” she argued, her eyes fluttering closed at the press of his lips to her skin. How did he make her feel so safe, so protected, when everything seemed to be spiraling out of control? She cherished that ability of his more than he knew.

“He did,” Killian agreed, pulling back again. He hovered over her, staring down with those bright eyes that saw to her soul. “But you have to consider how he felt, Aubrey. There were monsters out there he couldn’t fight, demons and angels who used humans for their own purposes. He had to hope that if it ever came down to it, your brother and his friends could keep you safe when he couldn’t. Imagine how he felt about that, about knowing they might have to risk their lives for yours. Would your father have wanted to trade their lives for yours if he could have prevented it?”

Aubrey shook her head reluctantly. He wouldn’t have wanted that. He’d loved their rag-tag group of Elioud friends as if they were his sons. “But that doesn’t—”

“It does.” Killian pressed a fingertip to her lips to silence her. “He wanted to protect all of you, and he tried to do that the only way he knew how. When you were attacked, he realized he’d made a mistake. He tried to stop it.”

“Why are you so calm about this?” she demanded, pushing at his chest so she could sit up. He eased back onto his knees to allow her room to move. “Your friends and family are dying because of what he did.
You
might die because of it! Why aren’t you angry about that?”

“My people brought this on themselves,” he said, reaching out to brush her hair away from her face. “They were selfish and foolish, and this is the price.”

“They don’t deserve this.
You
don’t deserve it.”

“I’ve made peace with it, Aubrey.”

“Why?” she asked. She didn’t understand him. Out of the two of them, he had the most reason to be angry. Her father had created the virus specifically to kill his people, and unless they found a cure, he was going to die. His brothers and adopted mother…everyone who had been part of his life for the last two hundred years would be wiped out, leaving no trace. Why wasn’t he raging over that? Why didn’t he hate her for her father’s part in that?

“Because forever is a long time to live,” he said.

“What does that mean?” She scowled at him, hating that he could be so calm when this threatened to tear her in two. She couldn’t pretend any more that if she ignored what he made her feel for long enough, it would go away.

It wouldn’t. She knew that now. He was important to her. More important than she’d realized he was until Jason had torn her world apart all over again. She
needed
him to be okay for reasons she couldn’t even explain to herself, let alone to him. Her life was brighter with him in it. She hadn’t meant for that to happen, but it had.

And the thought of watching him die destroyed something inside her.

He smiled a little at her frustration, his teeth flashing in the murky light. “It means we never asked for this life, Aubrey. None of us ever asked to be angels or Nephilim or to live forever. I suppose when you’ve watched everyone around you die, doing it yourself doesn’t seem like such a hardship.”

“You don’t mean that,” she said. “If you did, you wouldn’t be fighting so hard to stop the virus. You would have lain down and given up.”

“Being prepared to die doesn’t mean you want to watch everyone go down with you,” he admonished. “If I die so your friends, my friends,
you
can live…I’m willing to accept that sacrifice.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’ve had over two hundred years to live. I’ve seen and done more than you can imagine. And for most of the last two hundred years, every time I’ve thought about forever, it’s been a lonely thought.”

“What does that mean?”

“If you had to face forever alone, would you want it?”

“You might bond with someone,” she argued—though, the thought of him kissing anyone else like he kissed her was painful. Everything but him disappeared when he put his lips to hers. She felt right for once, whole.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. He had that look in his eye again. It was part earnestness, part sorrow—the same way he’d looked at her yesterday before he’d heard the infected shifter and all hell had broken loose. “I won’t. There is no one else out there for me.”

“Killian, have you bonded with me?” She was terrified of the answer, but she had to know. Is that why she felt so safe with him? Why the thought of him dying broke her heart? Why the thought of never seeing him again hurt even worse than finding out the truth had? Because she had been chosen by God to complete him?

He smiled. “Is that so hard to imagine?”

As much as some part of her had hoped he had bonded with her, the other part was horrified. Not because the thought repulsed her, but because she was just…her. And he was so much more. “But I’m
human
.”

He laughed at her shocked tone. “You’re Elioud, and I’m part human. Are we really that different?”

“But…” But the Elioud didn’t live forever. They grew old and died like everyone else. Nephilim didn’t. Like their Fallen parents, they could live an eternity. “That’s why you’re so calm about this!” she gasped, jerking free of the covers and leaping to her feet to glare at him. His refusal to blame her. His desire to protect her. Why he was so calm about dying. It all made sense now.

“You can’t bond with me. Make it stop. Make it go away,” she pleaded.

Killian flipped on the light by the bed and climbed to his feet. His shirt was wrinkled, and so were his jeans. His hair was wild. He looked so rumpled and still so perfect.

She wanted to cry.

“It doesn’t work that way, Aubrey. We can’t stop the bond any more than we can will it to start.”

“What happens if you survive the virus?” she demanded, her heart pounding painfully.

He smiled and reached out to her. She felt his fingertips glide down her arm before he wrapped them around her wrist to reel her in. She went willingly, allowing him to nestle her in his embrace. She wanted to stay there forever, but she couldn’t. She was human. And Killian…Killian would never grow, never change.

“What happens to you when I’m gone?” she whispered into his chest, needing to know.

“Nothing,” he murmured into her hair.

She knew when she was being placated. “Tell me,” she demanded.

He was silent for a long moment. “I’ll die.”

“No,” she whispered, feeling sick to her stomach. If she left, he would die. That’s why he was so calm about
La Morte Nera
killing him. Even if they found a cure…it wouldn’t save his life. “No,” she said again, struggling to push him away. “I won’t let you do this. I won’t!”

“It’s not your choice, love,” he murmured, stepping away from her. “It’s mine.”

“No, it isn’t,” she cried, blinded by tears. “You don’t get to die because of me. You don’t get to make that choice! We’ll find a way. We’ll do…something. I won’t let you do this!”

“What way?” he asked, reclining against the wall by the bed. “You know this can’t work. You said it yourself. You’re human, and I’m a Fallen warrior, the only Nephilim they’ve ever accepted into their ranks. I belong in this world. You don’t. You deserve a human life, Aubrey.”

“I don’t care,” she whispered, closing the distance between them. She stared at him for a long moment, memorizing his face. The way his blue eyes shone. The way his hair fell across his forehead. The golden glow to his skin and his full lips.

He was willing to sacrifice himself so she could walk away from this world, from angels and demons and the frightening things that went bump in the night. To give her what she wanted, he would allow himself to die.

Had she ever been so unselfish?

No. Never. But she would be now. For him, she’d give up her life in Memphis. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t ready to face all of this again. She would. If it kept him alive, there was no other choice. None she was willing to make, anyway.

“I’ll stay with you,” she told him.

“You can’t,” he said, wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “It’s not safe for you.
I’m
not safe for you.”

“Yes, you are,” she whispered, refusing to believe that. “You are safe for me.” He’d done nothing but keep her safe since he’d met her. Even if she was his mate, he had every reason to hate her for what was happening now, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept promising her that she’d be safe, that he didn’t blame her.

“I’m not,” he said, shaking his head. “Not anymore.”

“I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he whispered, pulling her closer and burying his face in her throat. He inhaled deeply before placing a kiss to her racing pulse and then gently setting her away from him.

She watched, her body trembling, as he stepped away from her, out of reach. “Killian, ple—”

“If the Dominion ever find out about your father, they’ll kill you, Aubrey. If they find out about the bond, they might kill us both. I won’t risk your safety just so I can live. It’s not something I’m willing to do.” His eyes gleamed, the bright blue searing her all the way to her soul. “
Etiam in morte, superest amor.
”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a Fallen saying. It means that even in death, love survives. I need you to live, for me.”

“That’s not fair.” She shook her head, refusing to accept that answer. He didn’t get to choose for her what she was willing to risk. He didn’t get to sentence himself to death so she could live. It wasn’t right.

“Abriel and Dom will be leaving for the airport soon, and we need to make a few plans before they go. I’ll be next door if you need anything,” he said, already heading that way.

“Killian, please,” she tried again, her fists curled so tightly her nails gouged into her palms. She wanted to tell him that he’d promised her. Not even twelve hours ago, he’d promised he wouldn’t leave her. And now he wasn’t only breaking that promise, he was breaking her heart in the process. He wasn’t merely accepting death; he was embracing it.