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The mob from the entryway gathers behind us as we walk, their steps perfectly in unison and creepy as shit, right up until we reach an open doorway and step inside. Ferol doesn’t seem surprised as she physically and emotionally distances herself from us, standing alone to the left as we file in to the right and look around. It’s like something out of a storybook.
The walls are not walls here, but sparkling, clean glass with intricate metalwork on each panel. Filigree patterns frame each pane, making it appear like we are outside. We can see the entire lake and beyond the borders from here, the sun sparkling across the ice. The ceiling curves upwards to create a dome, where a giant ice chandelier hangs down, dripping with black and blue jewels, and doors to the left lead out to a circular balcony. In the middle of it all, however, is a blue and white throne made of ice. Water melted and dripped from it and reformed to create decor across the arms and legs. It sits atop a circular platform, and casually perched on it is who I am assuming is Ferol’s mother. Her lips are stained black, as if the rot in her soul is escaping her, and the rest of her is so pale, she is almost blue. Her icy white hair is held back with a gothic ice crown. She’s beautiful and looks no older than thirty. Her eyes are a shocking blue that pierce us where we stand, and no expression at all sits on her face. Her dress has a cape that is held under her throat by a giant blue jewel. She looks like a being formed from the wilds outside, but the cruel tilt to her lips gives her away.
“Hel Draven,” Ferol greets. Her voice hints at nothing, but her emotions upon seeing her mother are anger, sadness, and disdain.
“Daughter.” She stands dramatically, sweeping her hands out with her dress. “Welcome home.”
That’s her fucking mother? By the gods, talk about polar opposites—literally.
“I would have been back sooner, but Gehenna wasn’t easy to escape from,” Ferol sneers, some of her fire finally melting through the numbness in her tone. “Though, I bet you hoped I wouldn’t.”
Her mother throws her head back and laughs, and the crowd joins in until she drops her chin and meets her daughter’s gaze, and it all cuts off quickly. “And why are you back, daughter? If you escaped from Gehenna, it cannot be just to return to my side. You are not that foolish.”
“No, I’m not.” Ferol’s grin is downright cruel. “I’m here for the exact reason you think.”
“Revenge is such a petty, childish notion.” Her mother waves it away.
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. I am not a child anymore.” Her mother’s eyes narrow slightly before the cool mask slips back into place. “And petty or not, I will have it. I lost years of my life and suffered for the sins of another.”
“It made you stronger. I can see that.” Her mother wanders past her, focusing on us. “And you brought friends. How quaint.”
When she draws closer, I realise there is ice on her eyelashes, as if she is frozen herself.
Are we sure about this? I ask internally.
We have a job to do, Kitt responds, though he doesn’t give away the other thing we have been silently discussing.
“Not friends,” Ferol mutters, but she doesn’t elaborate, and her mother runs her eyes over us before dismissing us and refocusing on her daughter. When she stops in front of Ferol, the crowd tightens. Mother and daughter stare each other down, saying both a thousand words and none at the same time. It’s obvious this won’t end anytime soon because the hostility between them is evident. How does a mother-daughter relationship get so broken? I suppose it’s not our problem.
“We need to break a mate bond, and we were told you were the only one who could,” Kitt declares, interrupting their staring contest. Their eyes swing to us, seeing too much.
“Not even good enough to keep your mates?” She peers at her daughter, brushing her hair back. “Mates means weakness, but if you are intended to have one, you break them into submission. Have I taught you nothing?” she roars in Ferol’s face before turning, sweeping her dress across her, and taking her throne once again.
“Like you control your mate?”
Her mother glowers at her. “Watch your tongue, child, or I will remove it.” Sinking into her throne, she tilts her head back as snow begins to float down around her. “We will celebrate my daughter’s return tonight. Tomorrow, we will conduct business.”
“Mother—” Ferol begins.
“Enough!” Her nails click on the chair, scratching through the ice and making a horrible noise that makes my ears feel like they are bleeding. “Escort my daughter and her mates”—she hisses the word—“to her quarters, and ensure she is properly dressed.”
“We are not going anywhere,” I warn. “Will you break the bond or not?”
Her eyes narrow in anger as she turns to the shadows behind her chair and a man appears. He’s nothing special, with dark hair and unforgettable eyes and features. He is nothing compared to her beauty, yet he kneels at her side and stares up at her for a moment before glancing at us. “My love?” he murmurs, and his voice has us stiffening. He was the one who hired us. Bodhi. I would know his voice anywhere. Ferol was right.
“Leash your dogs,” her mother commands, telling us she knows too.
Ferol remains silent, but I stare at her back, feeling the others’ thoughts. All this time, I have been fighting the mate bond for duty, my brothers, and our job. The collector is gone, and so is the need to finish this.
We might not need to break the bond.
Maybe we could keep it and her.
Dogs? The word repeats in our heads. We are nothing more to them than beasts, just like the collector, and it’s the last straw we needed to break our dedication to completing this. It was worn down on the journey, thanks to her, but he finally shattered it.
One sentence and we decide to switch sides. We are nobody’s dogs, and nobody will leash us again.
Still, we have no choice as some of the crowd parts and surrounds us. Ferol doesn’t flinch at being surrounded, but she meets her mother’s gaze boldly, oblivious to our changing loyalties and dedication. She’s ours now, and we are hers, and we have been for a long time. No matter what I thought, we were never going to break this between us.
