***
The jet was all polished leather and dark wood. I’d never been on a private plane before, and under differentcircumstances, I would’ve marveled at it. Instead, my stomach churned with nerves. Two hours later, we touched down in Bornia.
A black SUV was waiting for us as soon as we stepped off onto the tarmac. Kade didn’t waste time with the driver; he grabbed the keys and dismissed him. Bornia was warm, the sun bright and harsh after the gloom we’d left behind. Uriel opened my door for me, and I kissed him before he closed it and hopped in the back. We drove through quiet suburbs until we pulled up to a small, weather-worn house with peeling paint.
My stomach twisted as we got out of the car.
“Ready?” Kade asked.
Uriel got out first, his hand resting at the small of my back, scanning the street. Kade grabbed my hand and led me forward.
We walked up the cracked driveway together. My hand trembled as I reached out and knocked.
The wait felt like an eternity. Then, the sound of a lock turning was followed by the door swinging open. My eyes dropped to where a little girl stood in a faded princess shirt two sizes too small, the hem riding up to expose her stomach. Her shorts were so short they looked like underwear. She had tanned skin and long, dark hair that fell in messy waves over her shoulders. Wispy bangs tickled her forehead. Her nose was slightly upturned, and the stubborn set of her jaw reminded me of him.
But it was her eyes that stopped my breath.
Steel-gray. Piercing. Dane’s eyes.
She tilted her head, looking at us with the kind of calm assessment no four-year-old should have. My eyes furrowed when she didn’t ask who we were. She didn’t call for her Mother, but she moved out of the way, allowing us in.
My heart cracked.
Instead of walking in, I crouched down to her level. “Hi,” I said softly. “Is your mommy home?”
Dahlia nodded, and pointed to a doorway. “In the back.”
The ease of it, the way she let three strangers into her home without hesitation, made my stomach turn. This wasn’t trust. This was learned behavior. Adults came and went.
I looked up to where Kade stared down at her. His eyes locked on his niece, a girl who didn’t know him. I saw something break in his eyes.
“Thank you, Ghostie,” he said, his voice rough.
Dahlia paused, tilting her head like she was trying to remember something. Then the moment passed, and she padded into the house without a word.
I fought the urge to blink, so I didn’t cry. We followed her in.
The house felt cold despite the heat from outside. There were no toys scattered on the floor, no drawings on the fridge. There was nothing here that said a child lived here.
This wasn’t a home.
“Dahlia? Who’s at the door?”
A woman appeared from the hallway, wiping her hands on her denim shorts. She froze when she saw Kade.
Ava.
She looked tired. Worn down. Behind her, I could see a stack of cardboard boxes in the hallway.
“Kade,” she scoffed. She had bags below her brown eyes rimmed with red. “What are you doing here?”
“We came to talk,” I said, stepping forward. “About Dahlia.”
Ava’s gaze cut to me. “And who the fuck are you?”
“Vera. I’m Dane’s mate.”
Something flickered in her expression—surprise, maybe resentment. “His mate. Right.” She laughed, but all I heard was bitterness. “Did he send you?”
