There was an immediate dimming of the light in her eyes when she said it. The loss of herself may’ve been imperceptible to some, but I’d never miss it. I’d never miss the dulling of my girl’s spirit, no matter how small. She hated working at her dad’s company. Not only was it a career she never wanted or asked for, but she was surrounded by people who constantly shoved her down. There was no joy in that job. It only dampened her dreams until she felt she’d forever be stuck there, ignoring her true calling.
“Quit.”
Her gray eyes locked on mine and widened until they practically took up half of her face. “Wh—What?”
“Quit. You don’t belong in a colorless office, filing papers and helping others build their futures. You belong with a pen in hand, forging your own dreams for others to experience with you.”
She searched my gaze, and each word had a shimmer growing behind those starry eyes. But she quickly blinked, expelling the brimming hope with a shake of her head. “I-I can’t quit. These sales arehuge, adding up to more than I make in a year, but—but there’s no guarantee people will stay. They may not like my books, and—”
“Star,” I barked firmly.
Her lips snapped shut.
“Those thoughts are your monsters talking,” I told her, gently touching the side of her head. “That’s doubt and fear. Don’t listen to them.” I grabbed her hand and placed it over my heart. “Listen tothismonster instead. You. Are. Good. Enough. Yourbooksare good enough. You are so fucking talented. Believe in yourself. Take that leap.”
“What if I fall?” she whispered, the last traces of fear darting through her tight expression.
I smiled and pressed my forehead to hers. “Then I’ll catch you.”
Silence filled the room like even the very walls around us were holding their breath in anticipation of her answer. I liked to think the wood and plaster sang out their felicity when she finally did.
“Okay.”
I knew making this step wasn’t easy for her. She was walking away from what the world told her was the better job in favor of a riskier one. She was choosing her own path and happiness over what her dad wanted—Hell, over whatshe’dcome to accept as her only option. As exciting as charging in head first toward her dream was, the worries weighed her down. I didn’t want to make it worse, so I let her choose to take this step her way.
She didn’t quit immediately. Instead, she put in her two weeks notice, and during those two weeks, she watched her sales and the reaction to her book like a hawk. And just like I told her, they were amazing.
In two weeks, she’d made triple her yearly salary, and people were obsessed with the dragon romance trilogy while frothing at the mouth in anticipation for the demon romance she was currently writing. The sales and reactions each day had her feeling more and more comfortable with what she’d chosen—herpath. What had previously looked overgrown, dark, and dangerous to pass through was finally safe to walk down.
Today was her last day at her dad’s company. I was a fucking nervous wreck, pacing a hole in Zagan’s home studio floor while waiting for her shift to end at 4:30. That time would signify freedom. The clock striking the conclusion of her shift meant breaking the final chain holding her down. That end would mean a new beginning.
“If you ruin my carpet, you’re buying me a new one,” Zagan told me flatly.
“I just want today to go okay for her,” I sighed, checking the time on my phone for the thousandth time. 4:15. “No stupid comments or assholes making her feel like shit for leaving. No pricks getting their final punches in before she’s gone from there. No—”
A drumstick cracked into the wall right in front of my face. The black wood embedded in the plaster, and I held my breath as the thrown object vibrated against the tip of my nose as the momentum came to a stop.
I took a wobbly step back and whipped my head around to stare wide-eyed at our drummer. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Coldin’s pierced lip twitched, and the sight made ice douse my veins. Stupid question. He’d gladly have killed me if he was allowed to. Thank fuck he wasn’t.
Zagan eyed Coldin sideways and shifted slightly away on the couch before looking at me once more. “I think Coldin agrees that you should stop pacing and focus on the music. We need your greenlight so this last song can get ready for release.”
I shook my head and fell onto the couch adjacent to Zagan and Coldin. I rubbed at my forehead. “I can’t focus on anything until I know Serenity’s good.”
Coldin shut his eyes and burst into shadows. When they cleared, a thick black snake rested in his place. He slithered off the couch and out the door, clearly uninterested in being here if we weren’t going to be mastering the music.
Zagan leaned back and draped his arms across the top of the couch while fixing his blue eyes on me. An unspoken understanding passed between us. We were both surely thinking about the last time we’d been in these same seats—the most recent being when I denied that I was hurting Serenity and the time prior was when he broke the news about his love for Iyla. Two polarizing conversations yet profound in the mark they’d left on me.
“You were wrong,” I told him.
Zagan cocked his head slightly. “I think you’ll need to be specific.”
“Serenity’s not collateral damage.”
“Ahh, that.” Zagan smirked. “I’m glad to hear it. Though, you don’t need to tell me. I can see the two of you just fine. Which leads me to say I was actuallyright.”
Unlike him, I needed no clarification on what he meant. The first time we’d been in this exact position, he’d confessed that he loved Iyla. He was about to sacrifice his freedom in a huge way in the name of love, something I didn’t believe in. I’d said as much when he’d told me his plan, and his words rang in my head as though he spoke them now.
