Cedar looked over her shoulder to see what it was.
“The feather?” Cedar asked. “I thought it exploded.”
“You’re looking at the hunters’ first magical artifact and weapon apprentice,” Tate said with a bow.
Pride welled in my chest. I didn’t agree with the hunters, but I was happy to see Tate excel in something. I already knew about his work. The thing he slipped into my pocket had been one of the first things he told me he’d work on.
“Thank you.” Aurelia fastened the now mostly metal feather to her neck. “I really appreciate this.”
He met my eyes and gave me a not-so-subtle wink.
“Anything for my sister.”
“Hey! What about me?” Cedar gave him a teasing pout.
“In due time,” he said and looked over as Gabriel met us.
“How’s life after the fall, Castle? Or are you technically still a Hart?”
She huffed.
“Once a Castle, always a Castle.”
He gave her a shit-eating grin.
“So you never changed your name?”
Aurelia let out a playful growl, and Gabriel chuckled before looking at me, turning serious.
“We found her.”
My chest constricted.
“Where is she?”
He turned to face the edge of the forest. I hadn’t heard my mother come up, but she was there, waiting for us. Seeing her was like a shock to my system. Anger. Pain. Rage. Sadness. I didn’t know what to feel.
My lovers came up to my side, both holding onto me.
“You don’t have to meet her if you don’t want to,” Aurelia said.
I gritted my teeth at the look Gabriel gave us.
Do I want to?
“If it makes you feel better, she wants to apologize.” Tate moved closer, grabbing my hand and forcing me to look at him. “She would like to hear about what happened.”
I looked back at my mother, who was now looking at her feet.
“Okay,” I forced out.
Tate gave me a beaming smile.
“Great! We prepared blood, just in case!”
I let myself be pulled into their hunter camp, my mother lingering at the side, waiting for us to get settled.
Gabriel and Tate were talking my ear off about all the places they’d been and what they’d been doing, but I drowned them out. The only thing I could think of was my mother.
