I don’t remember passing out, but when I come to, there’s a blanket over me and a tiny body snuggled into my chest right there on the kitchen floor.
I don’t even try to get up. I lie there, running my fingers through his hair as my baby sleeps, clinging to me like he’s afraid he’ll lose me too.
I look at my sweet boy, and once again shove my heartbreak deep down. He deserves better than a broken woman barely keeping herself from falling apart.
You know what? Fuck, Anxo. Fuck his stupid kingdom and his stupid fucking friends. I don’t need them.
I have everything I need right here. If he doesn’t want me—doesn’t want us—then that’shisloss. I’ll survive stubbed toes and bruised foreheads, but he won’t survive knowing his mate hates his existence.
I’ll hold onto this fury, feed it, let it simmer until I’m whole again. Then I’ll take care of Visha for good and slam the book of my past shut… including Anxo.
Every moment. Every kiss. Every lie.
Fuck it all straight to purgatory.
38. Traitors among us
Anxo
Six nights ago
I still can’t shake the terror that ripped through me when I first saw my mate writhing in pain. It shook me to my core. When I carried her to the medical wing, I felt paralyzed by a fear that consumed me to the bones.
My hands grip the arms of the chair I dragged close to Nevaeh’s bed, knuckles whitening as anger flares inside me. Once again, my mate had taken it upon herself to save us by throwing herself into danger.
I know she had a plan, and she’s always safe and back in my arms in the end, but I can’t let her keep doing this. I can’t watch her sacrifice herself again and again just to silence that voice in her head telling her she’s evil, that she’s a monster like Visha.
Sleep is the last thing on my mind, so I lean back in my chair and make myself comfortable. Nevaeh hates waking up alone, and since I can’t risk hurting her by climbing into bed beside her, this is the next best thing.
Closing my eyes, I thank the Fates for keeping my family safe, but the bitterness of not knowing all the answers starts creeping in. I’m afraid that I was so busy tackling one problem after another that I lost sight of the big picture. Whatever happened with the portals is a clear sign that I’ve missed something.
I sigh tiredly when Grace links me that August is refusing to go to sleep. I kiss Nevaeh’s forehead and quickly run to the castle to tuck my little man in. He might’ve slept through most of the chaos, but he can still feel the tension in the air, and it’s not helping him relax.
I’m back to my mate in under ten minutes, but freeze in the doorway.
A nurse is standing by the bed, holding the vial of medicine our healer left for Nevaeh. The creak of the door startles her. Before I can ask what she’s doing here, she mutters something about checking on Nevaeh.
I recognize her. She’s the one who cared for August in the human realm.
Her fingers tremble as she fusses with Nevaeh’s blanket. When I step toward my chair beside the bed, the nurse mumbles something before hurrying out.
Why did she flinch when she saw me?
I moved to the drawer I’d seen her rifling through, checking each vial and jar for anything missing. The balm Grace applied to Nevaeh’s back still smells the same, and the indents of how much was used haven’t changed.
I want to dismiss her reaction and focus on my mate, but every little detail from tonight keeps playing in my head on a loop, stacking on top of one another until I have no choice but to sort them out.
Going over everything with a clear head only gives more questions than answers. Nothing makes sense after Anisha appeared in the woods.
And the question of the century… how did she find that portal? They only reveal themselves to those connected to our realm.
I want to stall until morning so I can unpack this with Nevaeh, but my mind refuses to shut down. Restlessness overwhelms me, and I link Harvey to come to the medical wing and watch over Nevaeh while I retrace our steps.
I need to know what went wrong.
Turns out Hazel and I are on the same page. I find her pacing the road behind Conquer, the one that leads to the portal that collapsed on us.
It’s nearly five in the morning. Usually, by now, the sun would be peeking through the clouds, but I see a stormbrewing on the horizon today.
