“That’sdifferent,” he uttered the words with interest. “Maybe you have a special power.”
“A special power?” I mumbled as irony struck me. I’d been hurt so many times for not having any power, but now Daryl, my father, thinks I may have a special power.
“Don’t worry about it too much.” He shot me a reassuring smile before getting to his feet. “I’m going to let you rest some more. I’ll drop off a pitcher of ice water and some snacks in a few. Make sure you eat and stay hydrated, but you should sleep more, too.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at Daryl, my father, who had already treated me better in just a few minutes than my mother had my entire life.
3
PANDORA
It was August.
Two months had passed in a blur since my father had found me soaked in my own blood, chained to the floor in a cellar, and clutching a kitten skull with my mother’s soulless body across from me.
Daryl Gravesend was everything I’d hoped for in a parent. I’d come to accept it was just another thing my mother cheated me out of.
He made sure I was fed, hydrated, clothed, and cared for. He’d even bought more books—fiction books. Including a copy of my first and favorite romance novel,Fate Hollow Academy. It was about an arctic fox shifter and her seven fated mates, and it was historically accurate. It took place during Kalista’s Second War. It was also the first book I’d read about fated mates. My mothernever gave me any books about fated mates or mate bonds, but reading that book always sparked my interest. I wanted to be loved the way the main heroine had been loved by the seven mates who had accepted and protected her from the start—after her first mate had rejected her.
He had provided me with an entire wardrobe full of clothes. They were stunning garments that I could’ve only ever dreamt about before, and each one fit perfectly. There were tailored jackets, blouses, A-line dresses, and skirts. All of the fabric was high-quality, such as wool, silk, and cashmere, and the colors were all neutral. My favorites were the black and gray.
Daryl had said they were timeless and classic pieces that exuded quality, nobility, and a sense of effortless style. He’d also read that from something on his tablet, word for word, with a red face as if explaining fashion had been difficult for him. But he did it anyway, and that meant a lot more than he could’ve ever known. I’d teared up, and he didn’t quite know how to act, so he awkwardly patted my head until I got my emotions under control.
Our relationship since he’d found me had been good but awkward. He was my father. That couldn’t be denied. I was a soul eater like him, and we had the same facial features and hair. But he didn’t know I existed until I was already anadult. It was no fault of his or mine, and we were trying to salvage a relationship that my mother had taken from both of us.
Black goo spilled from Nebula’s eye holes and onto my hands. “You’re not sick anymore.”
I shook my head, and smooth, straight hair fell into my face. I had no idea what the true texture of my hair was until recently. It was always matted and knotted. But it tumbled down my back to just past my hips like silk, and it was just like Daryl’s.
“But your magical reserves are dwindling,” he warned. “You need to feed.”
“I can’t,” I rasped, squeezing my eyes shut and filling my lungs with a forced inhale.
The rotten sensation that had bottomed out in my gut from eating my mother’s soul threatened to take over again.
My father had tried to teach me to feed on souls, but the thought of using my powers made anxiety spur deep in my gut. He said my body had probably reacted like that because it was my first time feeding, but snuffing out life shouldn’t be as easy as it was for me.
Shehad deserved it, but I didn’t want to kill anyone who didn’t.
“Death said that you didn’t have to kill to feed. Just let him teach you,” Nebula hissed, the sound of his voice filling the room.
My nose scrunched. “You’re calling him that too?”
“It’s his infamous name,” he defended. “And it’s amusing, no?”
“No!” I insisted, bringing Nebula eye-level as I stared into the blackness that was his soul. “His name is literally what I’m trying to prevent more of!”
“Having the power of death isn’t so bad, Pandora,” my father murmured, startling me as I glanced over to see him leaning against the doorframe. “It’s rare anyone crosses a soul eater.”
“Itdoesn’tsound so bad.” Nebula’s soul rolled back into his skull as he dissipated.
“Sure. Take his side.” Letting out a small groan, I placed Nebula on my nightstand and walked over to meet my father. “If I knew how to control it without killing, I’d be more confident.”
I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tap into my powers since I devoured her soul. Just thinking about it made my stomach roll.
“I’ve been thinking about that.” He tore his gaze from Nebula’s skull and jerked his head, indicating for me to follow him.
I walked next to him down the stone corridor, my bare feet making fast thumps as I doubled my strides to keep up with him. “About what?”
