Kyle’s bedroom in Merit’s Iona smelled of lilies, cannabis, and cucumbers. The latter meant Smith was getting off outside the door again, fucking voyeur. Silence didn’t care. She liked to put on a show. As a woman who was accustomed to public sex with a deity lover, who could blame her?
Not Kyle who presently enjoyed her long nails gripping the sheets beneath them while he repaid in kind against Silence’s hips. He loved how her curves fit in his hands and relished how her hair moved when she threw her head back.
Yeah, Smith might as well listen ’cause he was missing one helluva show.
After a few hours, they finished—many, many times—and cuddled up with each other for sleep. Every night was like this, and Kyle enjoyed every second. Especially since…
Well.
Kyle couldn’t shake this feeling that something would take Silence away from him soon. Call it paranoia after losing her once before, but it lingered in his chest and burned like acid. Even while he idly brushed the blue streak of Silence’s black hair out of her steel eyes, he couldn’t ignore the inkling.
Silence purred so beautifully in satisfaction as she shifted even closer still, until she laid half across Kyle’s chest. She kissed over his nacre—The woman who’d invented the custom, and thereby understood more than anyone its significance. A promise to live and die together as one.
Kyle kissed the top of her head and let her snuggle while he stared up at the ceiling.
Silence never slept. Her nacres were ancient, taken from two Gargantuan Tritans. Pablo and Lynn cured those nacres of the shield virus which blocked incoming upgrades and nanite transmissions. She was also fully vaccinated from volition—It was required as of two days ago.
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Fucking Xelan.
Kyle must’ve sighed, because Silence asked, “Will you give your troubles to me, so I may share in them? Or keep me in the dark?”
She would be fine with either because she understood bearing certain burdens alone.
But that wasn’t Kyle’s style. “With Celindria out there, I’m worried about Bethany on Pil with Matt and Lucy.”
Silence lifted her head to meet Kyle’s eyes and said, “Your concern is natural. Celindria hungers for those with extraordinary talents such as Bethany, but your sister… Her eagerness to live as Matt and Lucy—two predators—would eventually lead to unhappiness here if you’d kept her from going on a hunt.”
Unhappiness in Bethany manifested in awful fits and self harm, and Kyle hated to see it in his baby sister.
Silence lowered her cheek back to his chest and asked against his skin, “Do you blame Ross?”
This was a hard question to answer, but if put simply, Kyle would say, “No.”
“But you hold her accountable?”
This line of question was the sort of depth which made Kyle avoid the therapists Tameka and Xelan brought in to treat the Shadow’s PTSD. His voice was soft as he confessed, “Maybe.” Splaying his fingers against Silence’s bare back soothed him as he considered her question more. “And no. I was the oldest, and it was my job to protect them. I did the best I could, and I don’t blame myself at all for what happened because Bethany’s recovery should be in Ross’ hands. I protected her, so she could protect the baby.” Mind him, Bethany had only been twelve, and Ross only fifteen when Invasion Day had torn their family apart.
Silence lived up to her name, and the kind of quiet she could create told Kyle he was wrong.
He sighed. “I know. I know it’s not fair, and I promise, I’ll see the first psychologist I run into tomorrow.”
With all the wisdom of her long life, Silence said, “That is best, and in solidarity, so will I.”
“Do you think Bethany will be all right out there?”
Her lips spread into a smile against his chest. “The little huntress will feed and be home before you know it.”
Why was the thought of Kyle’s little sister out there kicking ass so fucking comforting?