Page 285 of Seasons of War
This time it was different. This time he held her heart, and he didn't want to crush it.
But he felt strange. Cold. The weakness and pain stole more of her from him when he wasn't ready for this to end.
Zayne couldn't promise not to leave her, but he'd given these last few minutes of strength to be with her. He hoped she could hold onto this memory as long as she needed it.
A few more seconds.
He begged for each moment.
Fought for it.
Pain and weakness won the battle, and his hands fell from her.
“Zayne,” she whispered, between kisses, hand slipping beneath his jacket, along his collarbone and chest. “I… I—”
A familiar metallic tang stole her taste from him.
She froze in the middle of their kiss.
Lifted her fingers to her lips.
Drew them back red.
Shit.
Panic flared in her eyes, and now she looked at his mouth.
His image of her blurred. She wiped desperately at the blood filling the corner of his lips.
“It's okay…” Zayne tried to lift his sleeve to clean her face, but there was too much blood on his uniform, and weakness tethered his arms to his side.
Finally, Kira seemed to understand what she hadn't wanted to accept.
Zayne was dying.
She hid her face from him, burying it in his neck as sobs took hold of her.
He was so sorry. He spared her from saying it, knowing she would accept no apology, because she didn't believe it was owed. But he was.
Then, she pulled back, wiped his lips, and stared into his eyes with the same strength as when she defied the Phaedra. “I'll find Brock. You keep breathing. That's your only job. Then we'll go home.”
Home…
Why didn't he stay with Kira the night the United tried to kill her? Why didn't he wake up and eat breakfast with her and Mom? There was nothing in this empire he wouldn't give to sit with them at that table in the morning light. To be home.
Kira might reach Brock faster without him, but he didn't know what waited for them. What watched them. The end might be coming for them both, and he didn't want her to face it alone.
“I promised… to take every step… I could…” Zayne started to rise, and Kira gripped him tight to help him.
He knew pain. Knew it too well. This was much more than that. His body revolted against him.
But somehow they got him to his feet. Quietly, they struggled down the path, exposed and defenseless, but together. He wouldn't even be able to shoot his gun in this state.
Thoughts fled. Life fled. His entire purpose became walking through these woods with Kira.
“A little further.” She'd said it for minutes.
Always a little further. No matter that he knew how much further they needed to go—too far for him to last—he made himself believe her.
