“Can I show you something before we go?” Caz takes my hand before I can give him an answer.
He opens the front door of the cabin, and it creaks on its hinges. Walking out, he rounds shrubs and bushes that need trimming, and an unattended flower bed, until he reaches a dirt path. We take the path, my hand still clasped in his, until we’re behind the cabin.
We stop in a fenced-in backyard that can’t be any bigger than 100 square feet. And though it’s dark out, the moonlight bathes all the outdoors, revealing a plush green garden. In the middle of the garden is a lopsided brown table and two chairs wrapped in vines, the nails rusting. Caz steps closer to the chairs.
Being out here was my favorite thing about this place when I was a kid.
I glance up at him as his voice whispers through my mind, and he tips his chin. The moonlight cloaks him, making his creamy skin more prominent. In the night, he reminds me of a beautiful ghost, standing tall in the darkness.
“It’s beautiful,” I tell him.
He’s quiet a moment. “My mother would make me breakfast every morning, then she’d give me a book to read while she tended the garden. Then we’d have tea.” A faint smile spreads across his lips. “It was always black or apple. I hated apple tea.”
I smile. “What happened to her?”
He drops his chin, and a tightness buds in my chest, like someone has wrapped their hands around my heart and is squeezing tightly. The feeling is fleeting.
“Tell me who Warren is.” I meet his eyes, and he’s already staring down at me. I blink quickly, turning my gaze toward the forest.
“That’s not fair.”
“Why isn’t it?”
“Because I asked you first.”
“I’ll tell you more about my mother eventually.”
“Swear.” I meet his eyes again.
“Swear on all of Vakeeli.”
I narrow my eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You hate Vakeeli.”
He smirks. “Not all of it.”
I laugh, then sigh. No point in hiding my past anymore. In this world, it feels like all of it can be unleashed. I can be set free from the agony of my memories and never have to take any of it back with me. That’s what this world does. It takes all the suffering, wraps it up in the wind, drags it to the sea, and washes it away, never to be felt again…or it just replaces it with a new form of torture.
“Warren is my brother,” I finally say.
I feel Caz looking at me, but I don’t want to face him right now.
“When you think about him, your heart aches.”
“It’s the same when you think about your mom.”
He tilts his head slightly and shifts on his feet.
“Look at us,” he sighs. “Two damaged people from two different worlds, with one major thing in common.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re lonely in heart.”
I reach for his hand again, wrapping mine around it. “Why are we this way?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Perhaps that’s how this Tether works. Without you around, things were different.” He pauses. “I can’t explain it, but life felt emptier before. But now that you’re here, I feel like I have purpose. I’ve been given a reason to keep fighting.” His eyes find mine. “I’m certain that reason is so that I can protect you.”
I squeeze his hand, and he lifts it in the air, spreading his fingers apart with mine. The pads of our fingers press together, a delicate touch, as he moves in closer, his mouth coming to my forehead.
“I feel safe here,” he murmurs.
“Me too.”
“I don’t think we should ever leave.”
I huff a laugh. “I don’t think that’s possible. Your family is looking for you.”
“Eh. Let them keep looking. They’ll be all right.”
I tip my chin, smiling up at him.
“Your brother,” he starts, dropping our hands again. “What happened to him?”
I start to look away, but he clasps my chin, keeping my head up. “Why can’t you look at me when you talk about him?”
My emotions swirl into a hurricane. I want to cry at the thought, but I also want to be angry. Why can’t I talk about Warren? Why does it hurt so badly? There are many factors, truly, but I suppose I’ve never cared to address them. Instead, I choose to ignore it and act like nothing ever happened. Hell, I don’t even have pictures of him in my apartment because seeing him hurts, and I don’t want anyone asking me who he is. It’s been easier to pretend he didn’t exist, but deep inside, it’s impossible to pretend when that person was your twin. Someone you shared a womb and every birthday with.
As if Caz can feel the cocktail of emotion brewing inside me, he strokes my chin with his fingers. I release a breath and pull away from him, focusing on a thick log not too far away, by the fence. I walk over to sit on it, and Caz watches me a moment before joining me. Crickets chirp, and a cool breeze floats by that smells of salt, a reminder that an ocean is nearby.
“The truth is that I don’t talk about him much, with anyone.”
“Your memories of him bring you pain?” he asks.
“Yes…and no.” I twist my lips. “The memories from when we were kids, those bring me joy, of course. It’s just…there are so many questions and things left unanswered about his death. I try to block it all out and distract myself with working, or men who think they can control me, because it’s better than being alone and constantly thinking about it. I’d drive myself crazy with all the what ifs and wondering.”
Caz nods, then frowns. “Who’s trying to control you? That Garrett fucker you’re always thinking about?”
I nod reluctantly.
“Has he hurt you?”
I press my lips, nodding again, and Caz clenches the fist on his lap. “I’ll kill him.”
“How?” I laugh. “He’s in a whole other world.”
“I’m sure there’s a way to get there. I’ll find a way, believe me.”
I huff a laugh. “Garrett is a conversation for another time.”
“Fine.” Caz sits taller, but it doesn’t stop his jaw from ticking. “You were going to tell me about Warren.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah. So, um…he used to travel a lot, my brother. He visited so many countries. All he ever talked about was marking countries off his bucket list, and he used to have this stupid scratch off map that he’d use whenever he came back home.” I laugh at the reminder. I still have that map, folded up and buried deep in a shoe box in my closet. “We shared an apartment when we turned twenty-five, right after we graduated college. We felt it would be better to split the bills, plus our dad was a piece of shit who didn’t want us living with him anymore when we turned eighteen, so we had each other. But that was the year my brother didn’t come back.” I glance at Caz. His eyes are still on me, clearly invested and waiting to hear what comes next.
“At first, I figured his phone was dead, or that he lost it or something. He called me every single day to update me, or just to bother me about something—you know, the annoying sibling thing. But after a week passed and I still hadn’t heard from him, I got worried. The last place he visited was a small country called New Zealand, so I got ahold of authorities there, and they looked into him, went to the Airbnb he was staying in, and all of his stuff was there…but he wasn’t.” I squeeze my eyes shut and bring my hands up, pressing my fingers into my face and dragging them downward. I can’t believe I’m talking about this.
Caz rubs my upper thigh, bringing me back to the present, and I drop my hands to look at him.
“This clearly pains you to talk about. You don’t have to go on.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s fine. Surprisingly, I…want to.” I draw in a deep breath, then exhale. “Anyway, the police told me they’d look into it. Long story short, they never found him, and his disappearance never made sense to me. I know my brother and he’d never just disappear on me unless something terrible happened to him, and if he was in some kind of trouble, he would have told me first before going off the grid. He knew what it was like to be abandoned and we promised each other we’d always keep in touch. Always. No matter what.” My voice cracks with the last sentence and I clear my throat again. “He’s been gone for almost two years now, and if I haven’t heard from him yet, I’m assuming he’s dead. Probably got kidnapped and killed or something.”
Silence swims around us. Fortunately, the crickets are louder, and all the sounds of the night, so it’s not so awkward.
“Wow.” Caz’s voice is full of sorrow. “I’m sorry, Willow. I didn’t realize…”
“Yeah. Now you can see why it’s something I don’t like talking about much.”
“I do see.” He pauses and the silence lingers between us a bit. When I look at him, he appears to be thinking. His eyes have narrowed, his lips twisting a bit. “You know, when we were in Whisper Grove, I went to the library while you were sleeping to find out more about how the Tether originated. Apparently, the original Tethered people had babies, and Selah created a spell for them to be constantly recreated if they die.” Another pause. “If Warren is your twin…it is possible that he’s not dead—that he may be in Vakeeli somewhere.”
I swing my eyes to his. “Are you serious? And you’re just now telling me?”
“I didn’t know your brother had gone missing. I mean, I heard you thinking about him, but I figured maybe he’d just left you alone or walked out of your life. And it’s just a possibility that he’s in Vakeeli. I’m not sure. But if you have a mate, I’m certain he does too.”
I don’t even know how to take this news, and for a moment I have to sit there, absorbing the possibilities. If Warren is still alive—if he’s here, in Vakeeli like I am…
“If I had a portal come here, that means he did too! Maybe he went through one in New Zealand just like I did but never came back.” I jump to a stand. “Caz, do you realize what this means? We have to find him! He could be here somewhere!”
“I’ll put my best people on it when we get to Blackwater.”
“That would explain so much,” I murmur. “Why a body was never found, how he randomly disappeared. Oh my God, it all makes sense now!”
I look up at him, and he’s watching me, clearly delighted with my reaction, but also apprehensive.
“Sorry—I’m jumping the gun. I just… it’s been so long. He could still be alive and if he is…” I swallow down my emotions before they get the best of me.
“Look, I don’t want you getting your hopes up, Willow,” he says when I sit again. “It’s a possibility that he’s here, yes, but he could be anywhere. And there were only four babies. You and I make two of them. If another Tethered couple is out there, he could be with his mate in The Trench. And if so, he may as well be dead. Or, for all we know, he found his mate, fell in love with her, and Mournwrath got to them. I’m not sure what to make of it, or why they could possibly be there.”
“I know, I know. You’re right.” Silence descends, and as badly as I want to take my mind off warren being alive, I can’t. “I’d give anything to see his face again—to hug him, laugh with him, crack a joke on him. Please, for all the love in Vakeeli, or however you guys say it, let my brother be alive.”
Caz laughs at that, a deep, warming timbre that makes me warm inside.
To take my mind off Warren, I say, “How about you tell me about your mother.”
He lowers his gaze a bit, his smile slipping away. “I will…but not tonight. It’s heavy enough hearing you talk about your brother’s disappearance. Telling you about my mother will tip us over the edge.”
I press my lips and nod as he places a kiss on my forehead. It must be bad, plus I don’t want to force him to talk about her. On another note, Faye would be proud to know I finally talked to someone else about Warren. I’ve only ever told her, and even with her I was vague with the details because I wanted to spare myself the pity, and she’s my best friend. What I’ve just told Caz, I’ve never told anyone before.
“I’ll be right back.” Caz’s words snap me out of my thoughts, and I watch him jog toward a line of trees, to return moments later with something shining in his hand. When he’s closer, I see it’s a flower he’s holding—and not just any flower, a gold one. It’s shaped similar to a rose, with thorns and all, and I gasp when I spot blood on his fingers.
“You grabbed it by the thorns?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I’ll be fine.” He digs into his pocket, pulling out a pocketknife. When he flings it open, the silver blade catching the moonlight, he sits next to me again and starts slicing off the thorns. “It’s a Vanorian Blossom. I used to steal them from Vanora when me and my mum would visit the markets, and I’d come back and plant them around the cabin. It wasn’t legal then to take plants from other lands. Each territory had a rule about their flowers and herbs being sacred, for trading purposes, but that’s all changed since my generation of monarchs. Anyway, my mum would find the flowers around this cabin when we returned and she’d scold me about taking them, always telling me I could get in trouble. She loved them, though. Always admired them. She used to tell me often how she wanted a bouquet of them just to place on the table and look at, but they were quite expensive.” He takes a long pause, focused on removing the thorns. “All I ever wanted was for her to be happy, so I’d steal them. And sure, she’d scold me, but she’d never deny them. She’d water them and keep them alive, let them flourish. She loved them. They grow on their own now, which is nice.” He cuts off the final thorn, chops half of the stem, and then turns to me with it, tucking it behind my left ear. Dropping his hand, his eyes light up as he smiles at what he’s done, then says, “It looks nice with your hair. What do you call this style by the way?”
I can’t help the smile that takes over my whole face, or the bombardment of heat swimming through me. “Thank you,” I say, voice soft. “For the flower…and the story. As for my hair, they’re called locs. Lots of Black women have them.”
“They look great on you.” He lowers his gaze, a small smile on his lips. “You’re right about my family, though.” His head lifts back up. “We should get going before they get concerned for both of us.”
“Yeah.”
“Cerberus!” he shouts, and in only a matter of minutes, I hear his paws pounding into the ground. Cerberus appears, panting, his black fur shimmering in the moonlight. Caz drops to one knee and rubs the top of his large head.
“A good boy, eh?” He strokes him under the chin, and Cerberus leans into Caz’s touch.
“Do you think Silvera will come?” I ask.
“I’m sure she will if you call for her.”
I look ahead, in the direction Cerberus came from. “Silvera?” I don’t call her as loudly as Caz called Cerberus, but she appears just as quickly as he did, her tail wagging, silver eyes glowing in the dark.
“There you are!” She stands beside me, and I smile as I scratch behind her ears. “Thank you for leading me here, homegirl.”
She rubs her muzzle on my leg.
“Homegirl?” Caz asks. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Oh—it’s a saying.” I crack a smile. “It’s like calling someone your bestie.”
“Bestie?” He raises a confused brow.
“Wow. I have so much to teach you about my world,” I laugh.
He chuckles. “Right. Well, fill me in on the way back,” he says, fixing his collar. He walks toward the cabin, Cerberus at his side, and I follow his lead. As he goes up the single step in front of the door, I watch him fish around in his coat pocket for his gloves and slip them on, and I’m reminded that the Caz I’m with tonight won’t be the same man once we walk into his real home. He’ll have to return to his violent acts, his nonchalance, and his take-no-shit mentality because he has to. It’s how he protects himself, and how he maintains order of Blackwater.
I see why he wants to stay here at the cabin. Here, he can be himself. There’s no point in hiding what he wants or how he wants things. But to everyone else, he has to put up a shield because any sign of weakness can lead to his demise.
Caz has me put on a shirt to conceal my upper half. He’s still not satisfied with my legs being out, but in his words, “It’ll do for now.” Afterward, he collects his guns and a few other items from the cabin, then walks outside again to untie his horse.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“Onyx,” Caz says, then wraps his hands around my waist. “Up you go.” He helps me onto the horse, and I gasp as I sit on his back.
“I’ve never ridden a horse before, Caz.”
“Do you not have horses where you’re from?”
“Yes, we have horses, but people aren’t really getting by on them in the city. Everyone drives cars.”
“Well, this isn’t the city,” he says, climbing on behind me. He slides in close, his breath trickling past my ear. Goosebumps sweep across my skin, and I feel a clench between my legs as he drops his hands to clutch the reigns. “And he’s a wild horse at heart, so you better hang on.” When he says that, he loosens the reins and Onyx takes off, jerking us backward. Our wolves run on either side of him, and at first, it’s terrifying riding on the back of a horse—especially at night. It’s dark and I’m not sure how he can see anything, but he gallops flawlessly between the gaps of the trees, leaping over fallen trunks and ducking under low-hanging branches like he’s done this many times before.
My heart beats a mile a minute, but as I look ahead and we reach a clearing, I realize how freeing this is. The air is cool and comforting, running through my hair. Caz steers his stallion, tugging on the reins to control Onyx’s speed, and never in my life have I felt so liberated.
As we ride through the clearing, mist sprinkles from the sky, droplets clinging to my skin.
“You’re radiating joy,” Caz says on shell of my ear.
“You can feel that too?”
“I can.”
“Well, I can’t help it! This is a first for me!” I laugh.
“Yeah.” He chuckles, a comforting sound from him. “It’s a first for me too.”
