“Already did.”
When the call ended, I went over and sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling slowly.
I had to be better.
For Pandora.
For myself.
Gumdrop floated nearby, fins flicking in that judgmental way only he could pull off.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I muttered, staring at the gumdrop-themed tank. “Sorry, Gumdrop. Didn’t mean to freak you out.”
He stared, unimpressed, before swimming off to his corner.
I chuckled softly.
Standing back up, I walked toward the desk in the corner and grabbed a pen and paper. I let the words spill.
I wrote a poem for my mate, but also for me. It was a promise inked in shaky lines on a page—one I needed to keep.
13
PANDORA
The evening air was cool against my skin as Jenni and I walked back to the dorms. Our footsteps crunched the sand underneath us. The sky was a deep purple that was reminiscent of Reed’s dreamscape, and stars dotted and twinkled overhead.
We had spent the entire day at Dad’s. Dex and Reed brought us back to campus so we could grab dinner at the cafeteria. My mates didn’t hang around since Jenni had claimed me for the day, so it was just us.
It was odd not having my mates with me, but it was also nice to spend quality time with Jenni.
Dad and my mates didn’t love it, but they understood the need for it and gave us space. I knew they were just concerned for us with everything happening in the Demon Capital. I felt their emotions throughout the matebond, and they felt mine through it as well.
Dad and Jenni were the same.
As we walked, our topic of conversation drifted to the impending doom of Dark Veil that lingered over our heads, mocking us constantly.
A shiver jolted through me. “I just hate that they’ve gone after my mates the way they have.”
“Bram took a sword to the heart for you,” Jenni murmured. “From the same sword that killed my dad.”
“I know.” I swallowed a lump in my throat—he had been too close to death for my liking. Too close to becoming nothing but a memory and a physical hole in my soul.
The thought of losing him sent a cold tremor through me, one I buried as quickly as it surfaced.
Bram was okay, and that was what mattered.
“Daryl helped me destroy the dark magic sword that killed Dad.” Her voice cracked. Her blue-green eyes brimmed with tears before they poured over, trailing tracks down her cheeks. “It was cathartic, but fuck, Pandora—my dad died because of that thing!”
I hesitated, searching for the right words to say. Comforting others was something I was learning still. I wanted to comfort her without dismissing the valid jagged edge of her grief. “Dad told me he was going to help you destroy it.” I wrapped an arm around her as we stopped walking. Her body shook, and I could feel her soul’s distress radiating like a storm. “Do you feel better knowing it’s gone?”
She nodded against my shoulder, her sobs muffled but heavy. “I do, I really do, but…destroying it gave me vengeance. It didn’t give me Dad back.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “I’ll never get him back.”
The wind stirred around us, tugging at loose strands of her hair and carrying her sorrow into the night. I couldn’t think of anything to say that would ease her grief, so I said nothing, just hugged her as she let out her pain and cried.
Sometimes, words weren’t able to hold the weight of grief and loss.
And that was okay.
