A deafening scream fills the air, and my eyes pop open. The guesthouse has turned to absolute chaos as Caz shoots off the sofa and flies across the room while Danica shouts at Warren.
“Warren! Please, stop! It’s just me!” she shouts with her hands in front of her like she’s taming a wild animal. And perhaps she is. Because standing on the other side of the bed, holding a knife, is my brother. He’s fully alert, eyes wide, as he swings them from Danica to Caz while slashing the knife in the air.
“Easy,” Caz warns, one of his hands up too.
“Back up!” Warren barks. He breathes rapidly as I stagger to a stand. “Who is this man, Danica?”
Danica’s eyes shimmer from the sunlight. “You remember me?”
“Of course, I remember you.” The sun has made its appearance, just a blip over the horizon.
“That’s Caz,” Danica urges. “It’s okay. He’s been helping us.”
“Warren?” I step around Caz, focused on my brother. Caz notices how close I am to Warren and the knife and shifts in front of me. Warren finds my voice, and when he does, his eyes grow rounder, his brown irises glinting in the light. He lowers the knife, mouth ajar.
“This a dream,” he breathes. “No, a trick. It’s a trick. It’s a trick.”
“No.” I move forward. “It’s not. It’s me, Warren. It’s Willow. I’m here.”
The knife that was in his hand clatters to the floor, and he rushes my way, instantly crashing into me. It’s so fast, so sudden, that Caz has to take a quick step back while we embrace.
“Oh my God. Willow! It’s really you?” Warren gasps over my shoulder. He leans back, grabbing my face, looking me deep in the eyes. “Still beautiful and ugly at the same time.”
I burst out in a sob-laugh, then reel him in again to hold on tight. “You had us all worried.”
He releases me and focuses on Danica. “What the hell happened? One minute we were together in bed, the next we’re…here.”
“You don’t remember all the stuff with your nightmares? Or what I told you about the Cold Tether?” Danica asks.
Warren’s face warps. “No.”
“Do you remember how you got here?” Caz asks, and Warren takes a step back to look at Caz.
“Not really. I’m sorry—Willow, who is this man?”
“This is Caz,” I tell him, wrapping an arm around Caz’s waist. “He’s my mate.”
Warren studies my arm around Caz, looking between us. “Your mate?”
“Yes,” Caz replies sharply.
Warren looks Caz in the eyes before taking another step back and sizing him up. A slight frown takes over him as he looks between us, then he shakes his head, rubbing a palm over the top of it. “I’m so confused right now.”
“You are, and there’s a lot to explain, but don’t worry about that right now.” I throw my arms around him, hugging him again. “I never thought I’d see you again, Warren.”
“I know, sis. Same.”
Danica clears her throat, and I pull away as Warren faces her. I look at Danica’s face, the longing she has, then at Warren, whose eyes narrow a bit before he walks toward her.
For a split second, I’m worried for her. He’s not looking at her like she’s his long-lost mate. He’s not looking at her with hearts and stars in his eyes or anything of the sort. He just stares at her, clueless—like he doesn’t know what to do with her.
She drags herself across the room, taking his hands and clasping them. “Tell me you still feel this?” she whispers. “Us.”
Warren drops his eyes to her hands. “I feel…something.”
“Do you remember all the time we spent together? Or how we fell in love? How we met, even?”
Warren looks all around the room, digesting the question. Then he drops his eyes on hers again. “I…I can’t say that I do, Danica. I remember your name, but…that’s it.”
Her eyes well with tears, and before I know it, she’s shoving his hand away, marching past him, and running out of the guesthouse.
“Wait—Danica!” I start to run after her, but Caz catches my hand.
“Give her a moment,” he advises.
“I—I don’t understand why she’s upset. What did I say?” Warren wonders, his eyes tear-filled too.
“Do you feel her sadness?” I ask.
“I—I do, yes. I want to comfort her. I should go after her…but she’s so sad. Feels like her heart is breaking.”
I look at Caz, and he returns a look, one to match my worry.
“Perhaps your memory will come back in time,” Caz offers.
Warren drops down on the edge of the bed, his face falling into his hands. “She’s saying she hates her life. She wants to die. I can hear her.”
“Go to her, Warren. Please,” I plead.
“How am I supposed to find her?”
“You will,” Caz responds. “You’re Tethered. You’ll find her.”
