Chapter 98 The Silver Allergy Exposed 1

Chapter 98: Chapter 98 The Silver Allergy Exposed 1

Talia’s POV

I stared at the red mark on Kaelen’s chest.

My eyes were wide, and my heart was pounding. I had seen wounds, scars, bruises, and the marks of battles fought and survived before, but this was different.

This was not a scar from a fight, not a mark from a claw or a blade, and not a wound from a weapon. This was something like a reaction, or a burn, and I felt it had come from me.

"Your skin," I said. "It is red and looks like a burn mark. Did you have an injury?"

Kaelen looked down at his chest. His jaw tightened, and he did not answer immediately.

"What is happening?" I asked. "Is it something I did?"

He was quiet for a long moment.

The fire crackled behind us, casting long shadows across the floor. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the war between his instinct to hide and his desire to trust.

I waited for him to tell me willingly, so I did not push.

His jaw tightened, and his hands clenched at his sides. He was struggling with something, and I could feel it.

"Whatever it is," I said, "you can tell me."

He looked at me, and his gray eyes searched my face.

Then he took a breath. "Promise me you will not tell anyone," he said.

I nodded. "I promise."

The word hung in the air between us like a vow or a bond that I had just committed to with those two words.

I meant every breath of what I said, and I would take his secret to my grave if I had to. He had decided to trust me with something that was important to him, and something that seemed like a life secret, and I would not betray that trust. Not ever, and not for anything.

I looked into his eyes and let him see my resolve.

He studied my face for a long moment, like he was looking for the lie, or looking for the trick. But he did not find one.

He took another breath, like he was gathering the words, and pulling them from somewhere deep.

"The silver," he said slowly. "It burns me."

I blinked. "Burns you?"

"Yes. When it touches my skin," he said.

I looked down at my necklace, at the silver chain, and at the charm. The one I had worn every day for fifteen years.

"The metal," I whispered. "You are allergic to the metal."

He nodded.

"I am allergic to silver," he said.

My eyes widened. I looked down at my necklace again, at the silver chain and the charm, the one my mother had given me.

"The necklace," I whispered. "Is that why you flinched?"

He nodded. "The chain pressed against my skin."

I touched the necklace, and the metal was cool against my fingers. I had never thought about it as a weapon, because it was a gift, a protection, and a piece of my mother.

But to him, it was danger.

The thought made my stomach turn. I had touched him when he had held me, and I had leaned against his chest. And all that time, my necklace had been pressed against his skin, hurting him, and I did not even know.

"I did not know," I said. "I am sorry."

He shook his head. "You did not know. So you have nothing to be sorry for."

"I could have hurt you," I said.

"But you did not," he whispered.

I looked at his chest again, and the red mark was already starting to fade.

"How long have you known?" I asked.

"Since I was a child," he said. "No one knows, except for Grandfather, Jax, Silas, and Cain."

"How did you find out?" I asked.

He was quiet for a moment. "My father gave me a silver ring for my birthday. I wore it for an hour before my skin started burning."

I winced. "That must have been painful."

"It was. But the pain was not the worst part," he said.

"What was?" I asked.

He looked at me. "Knowing that I was different. That I had a weakness that could be used against me."

I understood that feeling, because I had lived with it my whole life.

The glamour charm, the hiding, the fear of being found out, and the constant vigilance. Having to always watch what you said, always watching what you did, and never letting anyone get too close. I knew that life, because I had lived it for a long time. And so had he. We were not so different, Kaelen and I. We were both hiding, both afraid, and both alone—until now.

I stared at him. "Then why are you telling me?"

He looked at me, and his gray eyes were soft in the firelight.

"It is because you trusted me first with your own secret, without even saying it," he said. "So I trust you with mine."

Something shifted between us in that moment. The air felt different, like it was heavier, and I could feel the weight of his words pressing down on my chest.