Chapter 9

"My father was bleeding everywhere. He fought back and got his hands around her throat."

"I was locked out on the balcony. I was banging on the door trying to get in."

"When I finally got out of that room, neither of them was moving."

I stood completely still.

This was nothing like what I'd been told.

The story of Cain's parents that everyone knew was a love story. His father had broken an arranged match to pursue his mother — a woman from an ordinary family — for four years until she finally said yes. They'd been devoted after they bonded. Then his mother had died suddenly of heart failure, and his father, unable to go on without her, had chosen to follow.

But who could have guessed that underneath that story was something like this.

And Cain was six years old when it happened. His mind wasn't built to hold it yet.

He got very sick after. When he recovered, he'd become what he was now.

I finally understood where every piece of it came from. The inability to feel safe outside his territory. The terror of closeness.

"Ember, I'm telling you all of this because I want you to know me. All of me."

He sat down beside me. He hesitated, and then slowly, carefully, pressed his palm against the back of my hand.

"I know I'm broken. But I'm going to work on it."

"You can come into the study whenever you want from now on."

"I won't push you away anymore."

"You can take my hand. I won't pull back."

"I'll take my medication properly. I won't lose my temper at you anymore."

He looked at me directly. His eyes were completely serious.

"Ember. Come traveling with me."

"I'll try. A new place."

"And when we get back, I'll celebrate your birthday."

He took my hand and opened a map and started seriously looking at cities.

I called Gerald and told him Cain wanted to try traveling.

Gerald was quiet for a moment and asked if Nora had been fully briefed.

At this point, I had less than a week left before I was supposed to leave.

If they went on a trip, I'd probably walk straight out of it and go.

"Nora has everything she needs to know."

Gerald said "good" and told me to take him out and let him see a little more of the world.

Cain and I talked it through and settled on the Northern Borderlands grasslands.

Cain researched everything and built out a packed itinerary. He'd even decided what they'd eat each day.

He brought a camera. He said he'd take photos for me. A record.

He was thorough like that.

On the plane, I could feel the change in him the moment we boarded.

It was probably the closed-in space — the same thing that had happened on the train. He'd been locked on a balcony as a child. Enclosed spaces were hard for him.

He tugged at my sleeve and pressed closer.

"This is different from a train. You can't get off midway."

"If you're not comfortable, we can turn back. Don't push yourself."

Cain pressed his lips together and shook his head. "I'm fine."

"I don't want to ruin your trip again."

When the plane took off, he reached over and took my hand. His palm was damp.

He kept his eyes shut the whole flight.

There was turbulence midway through. The plane shook hard.

He didn't open his eyes. But the sweat on his forehead and the grip of his hand gave him away.

He was scared.

After landing, we had a four-hour drive to reach the grasslands.

Cain was on edge the whole way. The unfamiliar climate and landscape made him even more anxious than usual.

I talked him through it the entire ride.

He managed a tight smile. "I'm fine, Ember. Really."

When we got to the hotel suite, I went to shower first.

When I came out, Cain was crouched in the corner of the room, shaking very slightly.

When he saw me, he took two slow, deep breaths. He dug through his bag and found a pill — one of his emotional regulation medications — and swallowed it.

Then he stood up like nothing had happened. "My turn. I'm fine. Don't worry."

He tossed and turned for hours that night.

He'd never slept away from Thorne Manor. The bed felt wrong, probably.

I asked softly: "Do you want me to tell you something? A story?"

"It's okay. I'm almost asleep."

"Go to sleep too. Tomorrow we'll look at the grasslands together."

He stopped moving after that. He was quiet, still, almost like he'd drifted off.

But the dark circles under his eyes the next morning told the truth. He hadn't slept.

He ate almost nothing at breakfast and kept reaching for his medication.

I'd been looking forward to the Northern Grasslands for so long, but watching him like this, all my attention went to him. I didn't even get to look at Starfall Lake in the morning mist.

But he was here because of me. I had to get him home safely.

Cain pointed toward a ridge of rolling hills in the distance. "Don't look at me. Look over there."

"Go stand there. I'll take a photo."

He raised his phone and took the shot. His hand trembled slightly on the shutter.

Another group of travelers walked by, and one of them quietly said: "He looks terrible, like altitude sickness — except we're not even that high up."

Cain looked down at his shoes. He took a slow breath. "We can take photos later."

"Let's just walk."

We walked together across the grassland. Nearby, a couple was running into the wind, carefree.

I watched them and said, almost to myself: "So free."