The Brightest Night (Origin 3)

“Yeah.” Luc stopped beside the bed. “Viv is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. Her theory could be on point.”

That little kernel of hope grew. “If so, then I’m not a risk. I won’t go all hive mind on everyone.” I sought the same relief I felt in his expression but found nothing but a blank canvas. “You’re not happy to know that there may be a chance I’m not going to flip out one day and run back to the Daedalus?”

“I didn’t think you were going to in the first place.” He frowned as he stared out the window near the bed.

“But you believed that only because you didn’t want to accept anything else,” I pointed out, studying him in the faint afternoon sunlight. Something was up. “What’s wrong? And don’t say ‘nothing’. Obviously, something is wrong.”

“I don’t…” Exhaling heavily, he sat beside me. He slid his hand over my cheek, catching strands of hair in his fingers. He drew them away from my face, his hand lingering along the back of my head. “I just hate this—the not knowing.” A rough laugh escaped him. “I’ve always known everything, Evie. Everything. You’d say that’s me being arrogant.”

I would.

“But it’s the truth.”

It was, unfortunately.

“Being able to read minds and see through all the BS has left very little hidden from me, but you … everything about you is unknown,” he continued, carefully extricating his fingers from my hair. “Do you have any idea how much I hate this?”

Considering how much control Luc did have in any given situation, I had a good idea of what this must be doing to him, all of this, and I hated that I couldn’t do anything to alleviate his fear. That I was the source of his fear.

“I bet you think you do,” he said, his voice as rough as his next breath. “But you don’t. I would give up all other knowledge just to know what is happening to you. I know that sounds intense.”

It really did. “All knowledge?”

“I would do it in a heartbeat. If I knew what was happening, I could fix it. I could do something other than this.” He smoothed his fingers over my cheek. “God, Evie, do you know that you’re the only thing I’ve ever cared about?”

My heart squeezed painfully tight in my chest. “Luc…”

He shook his head. “I don’t care how that makes me sound. You shouldn’t be shocked by it. I wasn’t lying when I told you what I feel for you is intense.”

A burn filled my chest, crawling up my throat. I scooted toward him, my legs tangling in the blanket as I touched his jaw with my fingers. “I’m not shocked by it.”

He didn’t seem to hear me as those luminous violet eyes met mine. “When I heard Grayson shout my name and I went outside, seeing you lying there? My fucking heart stopped, Evie. Everything stopped. And when minutes turned into hours and hours turned into days, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. Hell, getting up to use the bathroom scared me shitless, because what if something happened to you while I was gone those couple of minutes? What if—” He cut himself off, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’ve waited for you forever, and the only thing that scares me—that terrifies me—is that something is going to take you from me, and I won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.”

Tears crowded my eyes, and when I went to swallow, a lump formed in my throat.

“You don’t remember any of this, but you were close to death so many times when you were sick. You would lie there, so damn still. It was like you couldn’t hear me or Paris when we talked to you—like you already had one foot in the beyond. I would just sit there and watch you, making sure you were breathing. I hated even blinking.” His body trembled as his hands wrapped around my wrists. “And there was nothing I could do then. That’s how I felt when you were sleeping. That there was nothing I could do but pray, and I don’t even know if there’s a God listening, but I prayed, Evie, because if I lost you again, I don’t know what I would do.”

Dampness clung to my lashes, seeped onto my cheeks. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” His eyes flew open. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You didn’t cause any of this.” He paused. “I caused this.”

“No, you didn’t,” I told him. “You didn’t cause this.”

His head tilted, and he stared at me for so long, before a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes appeared. “All of this started because of me and my choices.”

My fingers curled against his cheeks. “I don’t know if it started because of you.”