The tears came fast, burning behind my eyes as I gripped his hand. He squeezed back.
“I know you can’t wear this much,” he whispered. “Especially with Cezar around. We can’t risk revealing too much. But Lina… there will be a time when you can wear it again. Just like you used to. They will all eventually know and love the real you, just as we do.”
The reassurance twisted something deep inside me. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, then unfastened the necklace and concealed it away once more—hidden until the truth could finally come out.
It was a two-piece heirloom. On its own, the pendant looked abstract. But when both halves were reunited, three roses formed perfectly—one for each of us.
I used to take it out just to remind myself what it felt like to belong to a family. One half tucked away in the dark, the other forever lost—together they held everything I came from. Every root. Every scrap of love I once had. My half stayed with me, the only piece I could protect, while the other… I could only hope my mother carried that with her into the afterlife.
Chapter 21
ADELINA
“Iknow you want to message him. You and your pervy… whatever he is,” Dorin remarked from the kitchen counter, watching me pace.
“Shut up, you don’t know shit.”
He did know. I wanted to message Cezar so bad it was embarrassing. Especially after all the research I’d done. I was buzzing with ideas. With something I didn’t have a name for yet.
Fuck it.
Hey, creepy perv, I want another sandwich.
I stared at my phone like some giddy schoolgirl who’d lost every ounce of dignity. Dorin left me alone, probably because he wanted zero part of whatever emotional meltdown I was spiraling into. What I felt wasn’t just want. It was need. A need to hurt Cezar and… a lot more than that.
Only minutes passed—which felt like hours—and then my phone buzzed.
Rude af, I’ll be there in 5 minutes and make the best damn sandwich ever.
I’ll even feed it to you.
I didn’t reply. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Did he think I was some helpless little birdling? And where the fuck was he that he could be here in five minutes? The thought crossed my mind that he might be watching me.
Strangely, I didn’t mind that possibility.
I watched out the window. And there he was—walking straight up to the door like he lived here. Didn’t knock. Didn’t hesitate. Just let himself in. He greeted Dorin and Vali, who were being couch potatoes, before heading straight for the kitchen.
Cezar leaned against the doorway. “Who’s the creeper now?” he teased, a wicked little smile curving his mouth. How he’d seen me from outside—no clue.
“Whatever,” I muttered, rolling my eyes and folding my arms across my chest before I could look too eager. I didn’t want a sandwich. The moment he crossed the threshold, hunger took over. I grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the back of the house, hoping the walls were thick enough for what I had in mind.
He didn’t resist. Cezar always followed me, no matter what direction I pulled him in. I was pretty sure I could tell him to jump off a bridge, and he’d ask if I wanted him to swan dive or cannonball. I didn’t understand him at all.
More and more, I wanted to.
I shoved the door open to my room and tossed him inside. He righted himself easily and flashed those perfect teeth at me. Then he saw the black bag sitting on the bed.
“What’s in here?” His eyebrow arched as he moved toward it.
“Hold up. First—take your weapons off and put them over there.” I pointed to the table, fully aware that if things got heated, the last thing I needed was Cezar accidentally (or enthusiastically) stabbing me. He collected daggers like people collected keychains.
He obeyed without hesitation, moving to the table and unloading weapon after weapon after weapon. It was… obscene, truthfully. I just stood there for a second, staring at the growing pile. I knew he liked blades. I didn’t know he carried a small armory at all times.
“Enjoying the show?” he asked, his smirk practically dripping arrogance.
I walked over to the table, eyes sweeping over the collection. There were far too many daggers for one person, yet each one was gorgeous in its own deadly way. One had a rose carved into the handle—almost definitely connected to the clan that his father had stolen from me.
“You like that?” His fingers laced through my hair before I could dodge, sending a full-body shiver ripping down my spine. Butterflies swarmed my stomach like they were trying to eat my insides.
