The Gilded Cage

Just as she was turning away, he called out to her.

“You say you became the darkness, that it consumed you,” he said, his cobalt eyes soft on hers, “but I call bull on that. I’ve never met anyone who shines as brightly as you do.”

And with that unexpected — and profound — compliment, he walked away, leaving her fighting back tears as she stood there in stunned, heartfelt silence.

“I won’t tell you not to do it again,” he whispered. “I won’t trap you here. But please, it would mean a lot if you could tell someone where you’re going next time.”

Kiva nodded against his chest, unable to lie to his face, his generous understanding prompting a sharp pain within her.

This was the Jaren that she hated.

Because this was the Jaren that she — that she —

Kiva didn’t finish the thought, refusing to admit how deeply she’d come to care for him.

“I didn’t ask you to look for me.” The words left Kiva before she could stop them.

“What part of this aren’t you understanding?” Caldon growled, his ire rising anew. “We care about you, Kiva. Ignoring that you deliberately kept me from coming with you — which I would have done in a heartbeat, as you damned well know — when you didn’t return, we thought something had happened to you. Do you have any idea how that feels, to know someone you care about is missing, possibly in danger, and you don’t know how to find them?”

The tears welling in Kiva’s eyes weren’t fake this time.

Caldon had lost both his parents after a storm had hit. He’d had no way to find them, or to know if they were still alive.

There were too many parallels with what Kiva had put him through that afternoon, unintentionally making him relive the worst moments of his life.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice breaking on the words.

Her emotion didn’t sway Caldon. “Saying sorry doesn’t change what you did. I can’t even stand to look at you right now.” True to his word, he turned his fiery glare to Jaren and demanded, “Come find me later.”

He didn’t wait for his cousin to agree before storming out of the room.

Kiva stared after him, feeling numb.

“He’ll come around. Give him time.”

Turning slowly, Kiva faced Jaren again, the breath leaving her when she found his expression no longer closed, but flooded with everything he’d felt while she’d been gone. Fear, dread, desperation. And relief — so much relief that she was safe.

Her knees wobbled at the knowledge of how much power she held over him.

. . . And at the knowledge of how much, with a single look, he held over her.