Lorraine's POV
He staggered back like I'd struck him.
No, not just struck.
Like I'd shattered something.
Kieran's crimson eyes locked on mine, wide, disbelieving. There was a crack in his face now. Not a physical one, no, but a fracture in his carefully carved composure. He looked at me like he didn't know what I was. Like I'd reached into the very core of him and yanked something raw and buried to the surface.
"Avelar…"
I didn't repeat it. I didn't need to.
The name still hung in the air, echoing like a ghost.
Kieran's lips parted, but no words came. Only a choked gasp.
Then he screamed.
He dropped to his knees, one hand clutching his chest, the other gripping a handful of dirt and crushing it like it might anchor him to the earth. His scream wasn't just sound. It was grief. A howl of something ancient and agonizing breaking free.
It tore through the air like a storm unleashed.
I flinched. I'd never heard pain like that.
Never from Kieran.
Hell, never from anyone.
