Adrian came out of the memory with tears on his cheeks.
"You gave up a kingdom for me," he said.
"I would have given up a thousand kingdoms," Kieran replied. "You were worth more than all of it."
"But you loved your people. I could feel it in the memory. You cared about them."
"I did. But I loved you more." Kieran wiped away Adrian's tears. "Does it change things? Knowing I was royalty?"
"Only in the sense that it makes our story even more dramatic." Adrian laughed wetly. "A prince and a blacksmith's nephew. Very fairy tale."
"Fairy tales usually have happy endings."
"Ours will too. Just took a thousand years to get there."
Kieran pulled him close, and they stood like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other.
"I need to tell you something else," Kieran said finally. "About why your soul took so long to return."
Adrian pulled back. "You know why?"
"I have a theory. Based on what the witch told me." Kieran led him back to the bed, sitting down. "She said your soul needed to complete a cycle. That you died violently, full of love but also pain and fear. Souls that die like that—traumatized, torn from life too soon—they need time to heal before they can return."
"A thousand years of healing?"
"The witch said you'd live nine lives before this one. Each life teaching your soul something new, letting it grow and change until it was ready to remember. Ready to come back to me."
Adrian absorbed this. "So I've lived nine times already?"
"Yes. As different people, in different places and times. You've been a scholar, a soldier, a merchant, a farmer. You've known love and loss, joy and sorrow. You've died old and died young. And each time, your soul grew stronger."
"Do you know about those lives? Did you find me?"
Kieran's expression grew pained. "I found you three times. Once during the Ming Dynasty—you were a painter named Wei. You didn't remember me, but I watched over you from a distance. You lived to be sixty-three, had a wife and children, seemed happy."
"You just... watched?"
"What else could I do? You didn't know me. Inserting myself into your life would have been selfish." Kieran's voice cracked. "The second time was during the Qing Dynasty. You were a general named Zhang. I actually served under you for a while. You were brilliant, tactical, kind to your soldiers. You died in battle at thirty-one."
"And the third time?"
"1940s Shanghai. You were a jazz singer named Ethan. American mother, Chinese father. You performed in clubs and spoke three languages and had the most incredible voice." Kieran smiled sadly. "I came to every show. Sat in the back where you wouldn't notice me. You died in the war—wrong place, wrong time, a bombing raid."
Adrian's chest ached. "You've watched me die three times?"
"Three times that I found you. There were six other lives I missed completely. Six lifetimes where you existed and I didn't know. Didn't get to see you, hear your voice, watch you smile." Kieran's hands were shaking. "Do you know how that feels? Knowing the person you love is out there somewhere, living and breathing, and you can't find them?"
Adrian took those shaking hands in his. "But you found me this time. And this time, I remember. This time, we get our chance."
"If I don't lose you again."
"You won't. I'm not planning on dying anytime soon."
"Plans don't matter when it comes to mortality," Kieran said bitterly. "You're human. Fragile. Any number of things could—"
Adrian kissed him, hard and demanding, cutting off the spiral of fear.
"Stop," he said against Kieran's lips. "Stop borrowing trouble from the future. I'm here now. We're together now. That's what matters."
Kieran made a frustrated sound and kissed him back, deeper, almost aggressive. His hands went to Adrian's waist, pulling him closer, and Adrian went willingly, straddling Kieran's lap in one smooth movement.
"I can't lose you again," Kieran said between kisses. "I won't survive it."
"Then don't lose me. Keep me. Hold me. Make me yours in every way that matters."
Kieran pulled back, his eyes blazing crimson. "Adrian, if we go further, I don't know if I can control myself. It's been a thousand years since I've been intimate with anyone. The last person I touched like this was you, and you were Elias, and—"
"I'm still me. Still his soul. Still the person who loves you." Adrian rolled his hips deliberately, feeling Kieran's response. "And I want this. I want you. All of you, including the parts you think are monstrous."
"You don't know what you're asking."
"Then show me."