Roaring with frustration, I sit up.
Birds chirp happily outside my window. Dawn is here. It’s a new day, and every creature in this realm gets to enjoy it but me.
Suddenly, I have the undeniable urge to destroy shit. To break everything I can get my hands on.
My bed seems like a good place to start. Leaping forward, I grab one of the four posts. Wood chips go flying as I snap it in half. The thick column is heavy and solid in my grip.
I can use it to do more damage.
Swinging it like a club, I make quick work of the other posts, basking in the destruction I’m causing. Every impact fuels my anger. Instead of satiating my rage, each loud crack takes it up a notch.
When I bust my nightstand, all the contents inside scatter. Trinkets belonging to other people, objects I used to search for Whitley—the insignificant pieces clatter and clink on the stone floor.
I should burn them all.
I resent the countless nights I spent dream walking, because those were all moments I could’ve been with her.
But we were kept apart until it was too late.
Now I’ll never know true happiness or love. I won’t see dusk over Issika Lake through my own eyes. My soul will ache for all eternity.
What else can I ruin? The couch in front of the fireplace.
With all the strength I can muster, I bring the post down on the furniture. It breaks with a satisfying crunch, and when my weapon hits the floor, the stone splits between my bare feet.
The windows are next.
Stalking across the room, I’m anticipating the shatter of glass when someone yanks the post from my hand.
I recognize the scent of my cousin. He might be my family, but right now, he’s the enemy. Everyone is.
I aim a punch at his face, but he ducks out of the way.
“What the fuck, Kirian?” I pant. “Get out. Leave me be.”
“No, thanks. I think I’ll stick around.”
His calm tone just pisses me off more. “I mean it. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’d tell you to sit down.” He paces over to the couch. “But it seems you’ve broken all your furniture. What happened?”
“What happened?” I repeat with a maniacal laugh. “My mate died. I felt her crumble in my arms. She just dissolved into thin air.”
“When? Where?” Oh, now he sounds concerned.
“In her dreams.”
He exhales a relieved sigh. “It was just a nightmare, then.”
“No.” I point a finger at him. “You don’t understand.”
No one does. In my lifetime, I’m the only fae who’s had my power. I can explain it all I want, but people don’t get it.
Kirian stops in front of me. “Can you still feel her in your heart?”
“I don’t know.” Having a fated mate is so new to me. I’m not familiar enough with it to be able to tell if Whitley is still alive or not. “Don’t give me false hope.”
“Search inside yourself,” he instructs. “Let go of the rage and just feel.”
Realizing I have nothing left to lose, I decide to give it a try. My heartbeat is steady and strong, and I mentally probe it to give me an answer. Is there a longing deep inside? Yes. But do I feel completely empty? No. There’s a flicker of hope. It’s small, but it’s there.
Helplessness mingles with relief, and suddenly standing takes too much effort. I slide to the floor, slumping against the end of my bed.
My cousin sits beside me. “See? You’re going to be all right.”
Easy for him to say. He has his mate. His happy little family.
Optimistic prick. “Why are you here?”
“Gemma stopped through the Night Realm. She wouldn’t tell me where she was headed, but she said you’d need me.”
I grunt. “How much did that cost you?”
“Fifteen diamonds.”
“You got scammed. Astrid already paid her.”
“I figured,” he huffs, amused. “But I told you I’d be there for you when I could. I can, so here I am. And, I know one thing for sure.” Standing, he kicks some scraps out of the way. “Tearing up your bedchambers isn’t going to fix anything.”
I bark out a humorless laugh. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
Silent, he reaches down to help me up. He doesn’t have a response, and for good reason. I don’t have to remind him that he was ten times more violent during his separation from his mate.
“Where’s Quinn and Danyetta?” I ask, sniffing for a hint of his wife and daughter.
I’ve only met the little one a few times, but she’s a happy baby who spreads her cheer like warm sunshine. Although I haven’t said anything, I suspect she’s an Empath. She has the ability to sense others’ emotions and project happiness. I could certainly use that right now.
“They stayed behind,” Kirian grumps. “Quinn’s wings aren’t fully formed yet. I wouldn’t have been able to fly here as fast with them in tow.”
Surprised, I step back.
He came here without them. For me. To most people, spending a few days away from their family might not seem like a big deal, but it is for Kirian. Since reuniting with Quinn before their wedding, they haven’t been apart for more than a few hours.
This must be killing him.
“Your sacrifice is appreciated,” I say.
“I owe you. Believing you’ve lost your mate can be spirit-crushing, which is why I’m here to push you to keep going, just as you once did for me.”
Digging the heel of my palms into my eyes, I mumble, “Thanks.”
“Let’s go to Astrid.” He delivers a manly slap to my shoulder. “She might have answers. Besides, it’s been too long since I had a haircut.”
Nodding, I wade through the evidence of my tantrum as I leave my trashed room.
On the way from my wing of the castle to Astrid’s, I fill Kirian in on the details—how my parents found Whitley, the accident, and the dreams.
“You know it wasn’t really an accident, right?” Kirian asks, his voice hard. “Those murderous witches—”
“Yes. I saw one of them appear in the road.”
“Fuck.”
Fuck is right. Ever since I found out the coven wanted my mate dead it’s been a race against them to get to her first. And they won.
“They have to die,” I state, waiting for Kirian to disagree. When he doesn’t, I continue, “I know talk of killing them has never been on the table, but I draw the line at harming Whitley. Even if she…” I swallow hard. “—isn’t alive, this will be my last mission. This is war.”
“You don’t have to convince me. I’ve felt this way for quite some time.”
“So you’d be with me, then? Not that I couldn’t do it alone, but it’d be easier with your help.”
He chuckles. “I’m going to pretend like you’re not arrogant enough to think you could defeat them by yourself.”
“Hey.” I dramatically press a hand to my chest. “That hurts.”
My cousin doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does. For over two thousand years, I’ve allowed him and everyone else to see my non-threatening side. The humorous man who doesn’t mind losing a fight.