Chapter Twelve

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Dylan stirred the coals in the fireplace as Kennedy left the living room. He added a few more logs, and the heat quickly spread, making a slightly windy sound. He felt tired but more hungry than anything else, realizing he had just breakfast, Dylan traveled to the kitchen. He searched the fridge, settling on making ham sandwiches.

He couldn't let go of the feeling Kennedy would act the same with him as she did with Martin, so he made a coffee pot. There was no way he would go to sleep. He rested after the spell broke and had a few hours of sleep after it. He felt tired, but it perhaps was an emotional overload for him. Kennedy was always protective of them, and Dylan knew that very well.

Once Kennedy stumbled on Dylan and his uncle mid-fight. As Uncle Shawn was about to hit Dylan, Kennedy intervened and received a punch to her right cheek. That was the first time Dylan saw his uncle scared. Luckily for Shawn, Kennedy didn't take any measures against him. She just dragged Dylan from the backyard and took him to her house. Kennedy walked with a bruised cheek for weeks, telling no one what truly happened.

That was the moment he really saw her as someone special. The problem remained that he still wasn't sure which of his memories were true and which were made up by Helena. Dylan shook his head at the thoughts. While snacking on sandwiches, he decided to pack his and Martin's bags.

Soon he washed the food with coffee and traveled upstairs. He packed the luggage and took everything to his car. Resurrectionis arca lay in the Lexus as Dylan dropped the bags inside.

He opened the box and stared at the item. It still felt mesmerizing, not by its looks but by the power the crown possessed. Dylan closed the lid of the box and soon locked his car. He took a coffee pot and a cup and traveled upstairs. While waiting for Kennedy to rest, he sat in the corridor and looked through his emails and the stock market.

He felt startled by a hushed squeak. Dylan realized he drifted to sleep, he felt unsure for how long. Kennedy stood in the doorway of her room, her eyes held wide.

"Enlighten me," Dylan said, bending his elbows to his knees. "What was your plan?"

"To wake you, of course," she replied, dragging her luggage into the corridor.

"Yeah, sure," Dylan sarcastically said.

Kennedy moved toward the stairs. Dylan picked up the empty coffee pot and cup, soon following her downstairs.

"We need to take Martin's things," Kennedy said, traveling to the kitchen.

"It's packed and in my car," Dylan said, placing dishes on the bar.

"I thought you were tired," Kennedy said, opening the fridge. "And here you are, half asleep and sitting on the chair," she added, picking food from the refrigerator.

"I will take this to your car," Dylan said, ignoring her remarks.

He grabbed Kennedy's bag, and the car keys and soon traveled outside. The day felt warmer or perhaps being in Alaska for the last couple of days let Dylan adapt to the forgotten atmosphere. He put Kennedy's bag in her car and traveled back to the cabin. Kennedy packed the food leftovers and soon they locked the cabin door.

"Dylan," Kennedy said, opening her car door.

"I'm not giving you the box," he replied, walking toward the Lexus. "It's not like you can dig the grave all on your own." He unlocked his car. Kennedy slightly nodded, holding a sad smile on her face. "Meet you at the cemetery," Dylan said, sitting in his car.

Kennedy nodded and jumped into the Mercedes. Dylan left the cabin first and Kennedy's car soon followed the Lexus. The drive felt quick since it was still early morning and there were just a few cars they met on the road to the cemetery. Dylan tapped his fingers on the driving wheel, trying to match the tune of the song. He had to admit the next part seemed nerve-wracking.

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