Danica walks out of the bathroom with damp, bone-straight hair, avoiding our eyes as she moves across the guesthouse and drops her bag in a corner. She then sits on the bed next to Warren and strokes his forehead with the pad of her thumb while studying his face.
I glance at Juniper who seems to be bored with all of this as she leans forward on the sofa, her chin propped in her hand. Danica begins to hum, collecting some of Warren’s locs and moving them away from his neck.
“He’s cute when he sleeps,” she laughs, and I think she’s talking more to herself than to us. She stares at him a little while longer, then pulls away, pointing her gaze in our direction. “I’d like to go to the beach,” she states.
“Sure.” Juniper stands. “Let’s go.”
Danica stands with a grimace. “Whatever.”
“I’ll come with you two.” I follow them out the door, but not without a glance back at my brother. He should be okay for a bit.
I’m surprised Danica finds her way to the beach without our help. There are several footpaths, and only one leads to the beach from the guesthouse. The others drift off to the forest or castle grounds.
When my feet touch the cool sand, I’m filled with a sense of calm. It washes over me as I stare ahead at the ocean. The full moon is large and pale white, the light of it reflecting off the dark rippling waters.
Danica trudges forward until she’s close to shore, then she sits and brings her legs to her chest. She stares at the ocean a while, her chin on her knees. And then, to my surprise, her forehead falls, and she breaks down in a sob.
“Oh.” Another shockwave hits me—the same one I felt when I first saw Danica. Everything in me wants to comfort her, be there for her. “She’s crying, Juniper,” I say as if that’ll help the matter.
“I see.” Juniper’s eyes are wide with surprise. “Perhaps we have been a bit mean to her.”
“We were just taking things seriously, that’s all. But, regardless, she’s human.” I sigh, shifting on my feet. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”
I leave Juniper, who marches toward a nearby boulder to sit on. When I near Danica, she looks at me through the corner of her eyes and swipes at her face.
“I don’t need your sentiment,” she grumbles. “I just wanted a moment alone.”
“There’s nothing wrong with crying,” I return with a soft voice.
She wipes under her eye with the pad of her forefinger, and I take in a deep breath before releasing it, claiming the spot next to her. I feel her suspicious glare on me as she sniffles.
“How long have you been with your mate?” she asks, and I meet her eyes. Her gray eye is murky, the brown one burning with curiosity.
“I think about three weeks now…maybe?” I shrug. “Feels like it’s been longer.”
“Only three weeks?” she balks. “How? I mean, you two seem to have known each other for much longer.”
I smile. “It does seem like it. But no, we literally just met. So much has happened since we met, though. I think all of it has sort of pushed us together.”
“I understand that. It was the same with Warren. I only knew him a few weeks before…” She clenches a fist. “Before Decius came for us.”
I study the profile of her face, how her mouth pouts, the dimple in her chin. Right now, she looks like a little girl. A sad, lonely, lost little girl.
I allow a few seconds of silence to pass before asking, “What were your nightmares like?”
She lifts her head, peering up at the star-splattered sky. “They were…dark. Cruel. Sometimes I’d be in total darkness but could feel myself running, like something was chasing me. I’d run forever, never finding a destination. But those weren’t as bad as Warren’s.”
“What were his like?”
“Oh, his were awful. He’d wake up in cold sweats, panicking. He’d tell me it felt like something was choking him while he slept or trying to strangle him. He described this…monster with red crescent eyes. It haunted him. Sometimes threatened him. He always had dreams that he was someone else…or at least he felt like he was. I did a lot of reading on what it was, sought a few Mythics before Decius came for us. I believe he felt like someone else because he was someone else then. Decius was showing him how he’d died in his previous life.”
“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.”
“What was that?” I ask.
“I wanted to kill the man who murdered my mum.”
“And let me guess. This man is Tuttle Lament, lead coach of what was previously known as Buckley’s fight club.” Caz’s voice catches me completely off guard, and I whip my head to find him. He’s walking along the beach in his boots, dressed head to toe in black. He approaches us, and Danica hops to her feet with a frown.
“How do you know that?” she demands.
“I gathered information. You’re Tuttle’s daughter, aren’t you?”
She grimaces, looking away.
“That’s all right. I already know you are. And I take it you lost your eye because you went out of your way to murder the man who slaughtered your mother. Your own father did it, correct? And he did it because you sought him as a teenager, wanting so desperately to know who he was. But that was a mistake, you see, because your father had no clue you existed up until that point, and he wanted to keep it that way. He had a status to uphold. Tell me, am I hot or cold?”
I put my attention on Danica who is vibrating with rage. Her whole face is beet red. “I didn’t ask you to dig up that sort of information on me,” she snaps.
“As monarch and as a man who doesn’t trust you, it’s my job.”
“So, what? You think I’m a horrible person because I killed my own father? Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same!” she challenges, stepping closer to him. “I’ve heard the stories about you, Caspian Harlow. I heard how your father took you to those caves to fight, how he punished you for losing, how he dunked your head in a tub of water and nearly made you drown because you were so weak and pathetic!”
Caz tries not to react, but I notice the ticking of his jaw and the way one of his fists clenches at his side. Despite the visible anger on the outside, I feel the clench in his chest too, the lurch of his heart. He’s equally as hurt by her remarks as she is by his.
“But you grew out of that, didn’t you? You proved to him you weren’t weak or pathetic because you’re still here now while he rots in his grave.”
Danica is in his face now, and I notice three people behind Caz—Rowan, Juniper, and Killian. They’re watching the altercation, keeping a safe distance in case things blow out of proportion.
“You think you know me, but you don’t,” Danica seethes. “And sure, you may not trust me because I infiltrated your precious life and found my way into your castle, but I did it because I felt I had no choice! I had to be sure that you were with Willow. I needed to be certain before I told her a damn thing. I couldn’t get this wrong when it came to Warren because I’ve gotten it wrong once before with someone I love, and it cost her life—my mother’s life! I’ve lived in confusion and denial, riddled with anger because I fucked up! It’s my fault she’s dead! So yes, I took my Katana and sliced my father’s head off with it. Yes, I did that, and I’d do it again if I had to because he was a piece of shit who ruined my life and took everything from me. Don’t you see it? You and I, Monarch Harlow, aren’t so different. We do what must be done to survive, so don’t stand there looking down on me with that disgusting judgement in your eyes when your past is filled with vengeful actions too.”
They stare at one another, Danica breathing rapidly through her nostrils, chest heaving, and Caz staring into her eyes, unflinching. With a huff, Danica backs away and takes a look at everyone before throwing her hands in the air.
“I know you don’t care for my presence, or trust anything I’ll do next, but I guarantee you, if I wanted to hurt you, I’d have done it already. All I want is my mate to wake up, and I’ll be out of your hair. You’ll never hear from me again.”
“Well, if you know this, why don’t you go for now and return when he’s better?” Caz questions.
Danica scoffs. “Never. He’s half of me, just as she’s half of you. She completes you. You know how all of this works. We literally ache when we’re apart.”
Caz shifts on his feet, his eyes swinging to mine briefly. There’s a snap in his chest that transcends to mine, like the snap of a rubber band.
“I’m going to bed. Do I need a babysitter for that too?” she asks, but she’s already moving, trudging through the thick sand and making her way toward the path that leads to the guesthouse.
When she’s gone, I look into Caz’s eyes. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” he asks.
“You intentionally upset her, Caz!”
“Of course, it was intentional! Now I know everything about her. It was necessary.”
I step away, shaking my head. “That wasn’t right.”
He bridges the gap between us, closing a hand around my elbow. “It had to be done.”
He’s right, but still. She was finally opening up to me. All that did was close her like a clam again. “Are you staying in the guesthouse?” he asks.
“After that shitshow, no.” It’ll be too awkward with Danica.
“Will you return to the castle with me then?”
I press my lips. “Fine.” I take his hand, and he leads the way toward the castle as Juniper, Rowan, and Killian take the path to the guesthouse.
