The house would be coming to life any moment, everyone waking up.
I knew Father had his class to teach at Wraeven Academy today, and he set his alarm for six a.m. on those days to arrive at seven-thirty to prepare in advance for the class.
Pops had a day off from Vyrn Hollow Shifter Habitat. Mom wasn’t in the Dark Fae Realm today, instead due to head to Crossborn for her other role there, and that was somethingthat didn’t need to happen until early afternoon. Dad would be in later at Requital too, because whenever Pops had a day off, they all pushed their schedules back so they could enjoy time together. A rarity except in the evenings given their busy schedules, so they carved out time this way, so they could always connect without going too long without doing so.
Although, because of what had happened with the kidnapping, now that time was going to be compromised and fucking ruined.
Because of me. My issues.
Once again.
I ground my teeth as I put the oatmeal box I’d grabbed from one of the light-gray stone cupboards onto the white marble kitchen island. I pulled out a saucepan from one of the drawers beneath, then strode over to the sleek purple metallic stove.
I instinctively reached for the knob to turn on one of the burners, only to pull up short when I saw none of them were there, replaced by their alternate form of magical touchpads. Sometimes when Dad or Father cooked and did so the quicker, magical way, instead of the mundane way, they forgot to switch it back. It was something that Pops got agitated with because he didn’t have the means to fix it.
I grunted and put the saucepan down on the kitchen island, because I didn’t want to reset the knobs or use magic right now. It was why I’d intended to cook my oatmeal the mundane way in the first place. Having to fix this defeated the purpose of that.
“Hungry, baby boy?”
My head snapped up at the sound of Mom’s voice. I smiled as I saw her standing there in the doorway.
Her bright amethyst eyes just like mine popped in her favorite purple jeans paired with a black wrap top that spoke to her edgy side, that bold and unapologetic powerful personality. Herkickass sideas Zayn had referred to it when he’d stayed hereand been rather taken with her. His own mom, Klyra, was the complete opposite, being reserved and restrained.
“Morning, Mom,” I greeted, holding out my hand to let her know it was okay, that I didn’t need her to keep her distance over by the door, like I could see her straining to do.
She was across the room in the next moment and throwing her arms around me.
“I’m okay,” I breathed into her wavy ombre hair. “Perfectly fine. I’m so sorry it all created such a scare.”
She eased back, holding onto my forearms as she took me in, so much love and concern pouring forth. The first part I always adored about her, about my whole family. But the latter… it had caused a great deal of grief and pain.
And not just for me.
Ruxnoth’s words slammed into me, making me wince as the brutality of them dug far too deep.
“You remaining on this plane is not only unsustainable because of public sentiment toward what you are, but it will bring about the downfall of Sylas, the rest of your family by extension, and even those three you have made the worrying decision to attach yourself to.”
I blinked back to the immediate moment.
“Winter?” Mom spoke, stroking my cheek comfortingly.
I stepped back and forced a smile. “Like I said, I’m well. I just regret the terror and upset the situation caused all of you.”
“No. Don’t. That doesn’t matter. What happened to you does, that you’re safe and well now does. Don’t take that on, no apologies for something you had no control over. There’s no shame to be had. None of this is your fault. Absolutely none of it. Do you understand me, baby boy?”
“Yeah,” I said, managing to sound convincing.
That may have been true beforehand. It hadn’t been my fault. Them having to go to extreme and often dangerous and exhausting lengths to protect me hadn’t been on me.
But after what Ruxnoth had told me, and him laying out an alternative, there finally being a way for me not to be a burden to my family, now itwasactually on me.
Voicing that, though, wouldn’t go over well.
They would likely put it down to me being indoctrinated by Ruxnoth. Maybe even brainwashed.
Especially when they had to know by now from Ketheron that Ruxnoth had infected me at one point. Keth would have had to tell them in order to explain me being taken, who Ruxnoth was, all of that. Which also meant they had to know about my necromantic power glitching—something I’d kept from them. Worst of all, kept from Dad.
I really wasn’t relishing having that conversation with him.
