Alchemised

by SenLinYu

“There’s plenty of people to replace me. I’ve always been expendable, remember?” She used her elbows to sit up. “I need you to fix my hands now.”

“You could be a healer,” she finally said as he removed the block on her nerves. She flexed her hand, opening and closing. It was still sore, and fragile as though hairline-fractured. “You have a natural talent for it.” “That’s one of the most ironic things anyone has ever said to me,” he said quietly.

“She’s dead,” he said. “You are not. My loyalty was to those least responsible for her suffering, but if the Eternal Flame has decided that you are an affordable casualty, I will not be noble or understanding. I can exact dual revenge. I will make them pay if they get you killed.”

He hated the Holdfasts and the Eternal Flame but he hated Morrough and the Undying more.

“You are not replaceable,” he said, his hands trembling against her shoulders. “You are not required to make your death convenient. You are allowed to be important to people. The reason I’m here—the reason I’m doing any of this—is to keep you alive. To keep you safe. That was the deal.” He searched her face. “They didn’t tell you.”

She shook her head, giving a broken sob and—before she let herself think—she kissed him.

He touched her cheek, tilting her face up and kissing her. “Use the ring, call me, if you ever need anything.”

It would have been a lesser crime to have murdered Soren. Murder was only a mortal crime; necromancy was a crime upon this life and the afterlife.

It was painfully intimate. If there had been any doubts about whether or why Luc had handed himself over, they were all gone now.

“Then use me,” Kaine said. He was right next to her. He pulled her close and tried to kiss her.

He didn’t let go. “Helena…” She stilled at her name. “I’m alone, too,” he said.

She didn’t know if what she was doing was holding on or letting go.

“This—is the way I wanted it to be,” she admitted. “With you. I wanted it to be like this with you.”

When he kissed her, it felt like the beginning of something that could be eternal.

“I think I’ve nearly memorised you,” she said. “Especially your eyes. I think I learned to read them first.”

“I memorised yours, too,” he said after a moment, and then sighed, looking away. “I should have known—the moment I looked into your eyes, I should have known I would never win against you.”

“I’ve always thought my eyes were my best feature.” “One of them,” he said quietly.

She was tangled in juniper-scented sheets and wrapped up in Kaine’s arms, and she had no memory of how she’d gotten there.

Isolated and deadly, and now he held her in his arms as if she were his.

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “This won’t complicate anything for you. You wanted someone to be with, and I was available. I know it didn’t mean anything.”

Helena’s breath caught, and she swallowed. He wasn’t just someone. To her, he was—

“You’re mine,”

“You’re mine. You swore yourself to me. Now and after the war. I’m going to take care of you. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. You don’t have to be lonely. Because you’re mine.”

She was locked in the dangerous embrace of Kaine Ferron, and it felt like home.

She arched into his touch and dropped a kiss over his heart.

Aren’t you a general or something? Don’t you have meetings, or crimes to commit?”

“Yes, you’ve apologised before, but you don’t change, so it doesn’t really mean anything.”

“You’re a far better person than I am. This world doesn’t deserve you at all.”

Their foreheads touched, and she closed her eyes. It was as though their souls were touching, too.

“Don’t go,” he said softly. “You know I have to.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t. They don’t care about you.”

“You’re wrong because I’m part of the universe,” she said. “A tiny piece, I admit, maybe never an important or mathematically significant one, but still a piece. You and I are not separate from it. No one is. It matters to me, everyone who’s died and everyone who will, and everyone who suffers. As long as I exist, I will always care. And that means that part of the universe does.” She smiled at him. “Doesn’t that make it all a little brighter?”

But I want to be remembered as someone who tried at least.”

“Be careful, Kaine. Don’t die.”

What they’ll do to us if we lose will be far worse than death.”

Now, in his absence, she felt herself suffocating.

Kaine had her in his arms and was kissing her as if starved.

“The offer stands. Say the word, and I’ll get you out.”

He grimaced. “If I could run, I would have vanished while my mother was alive.” “Would you go now, if you could?” His eyes seemed to ripple with heat. “With you, I would.”

“When the war is over. We’ll run away somewhere no one knows us. We’ll disappear—forever.”

“I hate your hair like that,” he said, startling her.

He looked unconvinced. “I want to see you more.”

“I thought you said if I ever burned you—” He captured her hand and pulled her close. His other hand slid possessively up her throat, fingers tilting her head back, and he kissed her, long and deep, before he drew away to meet her eyes. “Call me, and I will come.”

Kaine called her. Often.

She hadn’t expected him to be so obsessively worried.

“You’re mine. You’re mine.” He’d repeat the words over and over. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I promise, Kaine. I’m always going to be yours.”

“Be careful.” It was always the last thing she said to him before he left her on some rooftop. She would hold his face in her hands, staring into his eyes. “Don’t die.”

“You’re mine. I’ll always come for you.” He always did.

“Tell me about your mother, Kaine. Tell me everything you could never tell anyone.”

He didn’t care whether anyone survived except her.