Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
“Yeah.” I lower my gaze. “I had similar visions before we took him down. I could never see my face, though. I would be running in a dress.” I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to remember. “I could feel the fear of those people in our former lives, as if it were my own, right up until he takes them. It was always the same dream. Blood soaking my dress, hands that weren’t mine. A voice telling me not to run to my mate.”
“It’s dreadful.” Danica sniffs. “I keep asking myself why this is happening to me? Apparently, it’s not up to anyone who carries the Cold Tethered babies. A woman winds up pregnant and eventually discovers her baby is special when they mate. But isn’t it terrible that when they birth us and watch us grow, they all disappear? They’re all either scared off by someone, murdered, or end up killing themselves.”
“Yeah.” I pause, thinking about my own parents. It never felt like my father to walk away from us. He spent so much time with us as children, even more so when our mother died. When he never came home that one day, it was devastating. We thought he’d gone missing, but the truth is he no longer wanted to be around us. Warren told me the story all the time about how he tracked our father down, found him mowing the lawn of some house he bought in Charleston. Our father couldn’t even look at him. He yelled at Warren, told him to leave and never come back. He found Warren’s number and tried apologizing over the phone, but it was never the same. I attempted calling him several times afterward to hear his voice—to see if he still loved us—but the conversations were always brief. I stopped calling eventually…and so did he.
“Before Decius came for you, what was Warren like?” I ask after another wave of silence. “I mean, was he still goofy and adventurous?”
“Oh, he was.” She grins, and I hate admitting it, but I know that grin. It’s the grin of a fool in love. “He was so romantic too. Once he got used to Vanora, he’d run to the city and bring me food to eat in bed or flowers. He helped me wash my hair. He did my laundry, even though I insisted on using the maid in our duplex. And his jokes—love of Vakeeli, they were so silly! But he was so full of wonder, you know? He wanted to see everything, do everything. He loved swimming, loved going out to dance. We drank a lot,” she emphasizes. “But we always had fun. We were one, you know? And I felt at ease with him. For the first time in my life, I could be vulnerable around a man. Only he could do that to me. It’s incredible how this Tether has the power to change so much about us.”
“This Cold Tether thing is insane, right?” I laugh.
“It is!” Danica’s head shakes, and slowly her smile slips away. “He worried about you a lot, though.”
I study her eyes and see nothing but truth. “I worried about him a lot too.”
“He hated that he couldn’t go back—that we couldn’t find a way so he could tell you he was alive. He knew you’d think he abandoned you.” She clears her throat. “He told me all about your father…your childhood.”
I can’t look at Danica anymore. I stare at the ocean instead, despite my blurry vision.
“Anyway, that’s probably something you two should talk about when he comes to,” she goes on. “It’s hard seeing him like that.”
“I know. He’s so…empty.”
“The complete opposite of himself.” She drops her legs to cross them. “I worry he’ll never recover. I mean, Mythic elixirs and energy is powerful, but it doesn’t restore everything. I’m worried he’ll forget what it was like when we met.”
“That can’t be possible,” I murmur, placing my hand on top of hers. “You’re his mate. He has to remember.”
She looks down at my hand, her face softening. “Thank you for that.”
I pull my hand back, sitting straight again. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“About my eye?” she asks, smirking.
I fight a smile. “You guessed it.”
“You know, I thought Warren would find my eye hideous. That he’d have a hard time looking at me.” She bites a smile. “He told me my eye was beautiful. That it suited the woman I am. That he wouldn’t change it.”
I smile at that.
“I used to be a bit of a rebel. Still am, actually,” she chuckles. “But before I met Warren, I fought…a lot. And I stole from the rich. I protected orphaned kids—kids who were just like me, living in this violent world with no parents or guidance. When my mother was murdered, I was sent to a cathedral to live as an orphan. It was such a boring place. And they wanted all girls to grow up to be submissive virgins. We were required to cover our faces with veils in public, couldn’t eat certain foods like fruits or treats like cake and candy. I eventually ran away, and that’s when a man named Ossan found me. He caught me stealing from one of the markets, plucked me right off the street, and asked how I was going to pay for it. I started panicking, of course. The last thing I wanted was to be sent to a dungeon, so he made a deal with me. He had me start selling fruit from his stand instead. And later, I learned Ossan was part of the original Vanorian tribe. He wasn’t a warrior, but he was a counselor and had helped warriors sharpen their abilities. He told me he knew who my mum was and the power I possessed. He knew what I’d gone through, and what had happened to my mum, and he told me I had to right this wrong. I’m not sure why he cared so much, but he did, especially when it came to women and children. He taught me how to infiltrate, how to disguise myself. But even while doing everything he needed me to do and growing stronger from his training, there was one thing I wanted from it.”