Page 6

Amaia

T wo best friends. Two fiancés. Two fathers.

One mother. One “brother”.

They’re all dead, yet I’m expected to keep going.

I slid Sloan’s journal into the drawer of my desk, fingers trembling as they laced through my curls. The seat across from me creaked under Abel’s weight, the legs loose after I’d lost myself in a moment of weakness.

I hadn’t meant to scare him. He’d been through enough. His reasoning had been sound. I could not blame him for this. I could only blame Sloan, and that bitch was dead.

Now I finally knew what she’d been scribbling in her stupid little notebook day in and day out. Something of a memoir with a sprinkle of journaling, finishing off with a goodbye note addressed to yours truly. It also explained why she’d warned me all further communications would come from Elliot, as he would be ‘stepping into a new role.’

She knew. She knew for more than half our stay, and Abel did too.

“She … she wouldn’t let me say anything.”

“Is that where your loyalties are, Abel? Duluth? To … her?” Sloan’s name refused to pass through my lips. Weeks. I had gone weeks—months—without knowing that she was dead. Had been dead not too long after I left, thanks to Covert fucking Province.

Her small notebook was sewn into the bottom of my pack. It wasn’t until I unpacked that last thing from our journey that I’d discovered it. Between the move to Prescott’s space and everything else going on, making this place home and putting things away wasn’t a priority.

By the time you finish reading this, I’ll be dead. This is goodbye, Mai. Forever this time. Take care of them. I love you.

Damning words. I love you. I mocked as I reread the final sentences on the last page.

“No. I’m loyal to you. To Monterey. After all these years, I never forgot this place. The home you and Riley offered. The love …” Abel sighed, the guilt lining the youth of his face unnatural. A small part of me almost pitied him. “It’s why I made the call to follow one final order from her. If you knew she was going to die, you would have never left. Then all the work we’d done up there would’ve been for nothing. And Salem would’ve been gone. You’re the glue, Amaia. We need you, so I made a tough call. The same call you probably woulda made had you been removed from the center of the situation. I’m not sorry about it.”

I’m not sorry . I chirped a laugh. At times, it was hard to tell the influence Riley had on him. Where Riley was serious and dry in his humor, Abel was consistently playful—his energy just fun . But he had this switch that, if turned on, activated a soldier.

He had done his duty. I could not blame him for that. His ability to see was a gift for a reason. He’d used his power of discernment and Sloan had given her life to secure the safety of her people for another day. They were still standing because of her sacrifice.

Abel was right. Sloan had done what I would have done if placed in her position. What any true leader would do.

That meant my time in Duluth was effective, a mission completed. But did that make any of it worth it? First Prescott, then her. If I let my thoughts wander too far at night, I thought about how it cost me Seth, too.

Worth it? Maybe. Sure. But would I let it play out the same way all over again knowing the outcome? I wasn’t quite sure about that.

Sometimes all I wanted to wish for was a chance to be selfish.

“With Elliot in charge, things should be okay for a while. Until we get a chance?—”

“A chance?” I cackled, “A chance for what?”

“For whatever you’re planning. For it to work.”

I scoffed. Abel didn’t flinch.

Don’t blame Abel. Please understand that this choice that I made wasn’t an easy one, but I couldn’t let ya choose. You would have chosen me, and that, my darling friend, would have changed history. We needed you to get back in time to defend Monterey. To make that deal with my uncle. I know you’re tired of losin’ people and I’m sorry.

I tore the page out of the book and crumbled it. A flame summoned in my hand as I engulfed the paper in fire and tossed it into the metal trash bin. My mind shifted back to the story Sloan had told her daughter Violet. The one she’d written down for me to share with her one day. As if she thought it was guaranteed.

The story of the warrior queen who saved the princess. Who offered the princess a kingdom to grow, to be free. To call home. The queen made sure no other damsel would ever be in distress because the queen did not want anyone to ever experience an ounce of the pain that she had. Who wanted better for others and dreamed too much.

It wasn’t a fairytale. It was the Grimm Brothers. A story much like the fat tome we pulled out every spooky season, promising to share with our future children.

“Want to hear something funny?” I asked absentmindedly, staring off out the window as workers passed by preparing for the afternoon shift. Abel said nothing, only tilted his head in curiosity. “I have no plan, Abel.”

It wasn’t true. I had one plan. A last ditch effort if all else failed. A plan ‘z’ that had no ‘a’ to start with. But that plan didn’t involve him or any of the rest of them. It only involved me.

“See, that’s not …” He hesitated, searching my face. “I know you’re not used to it, but jokes are supposed to be funny.”

“You don’t see me laughing?”

I held his gaze, unblinking. He was the first to look away. Pushing away from the desk, I took a deep inhale, an effort to stabilize myself before losing control. The door splintered as I threw it open, the crack of wood ringing behind me as I made my way toward The Pit.

“My turn.” I hopped into The Ring, Alexiares and Riley already drenched in sweat. I scanned Riley over. Everything about him said he’d been here all day. “Move.”

He stumbled back a few steps at my push, then stopped, taking me in and moved his gaze toward Abel. Abel frowned, his eyes on the ground as Riley shifted his attention to Alexiares, who only shrugged. The two of them peered between Abel and I.

Riley sighed. “What did you do?”

Abel’s dark brown eyes kept steady on the ground. Meek in appearance, but the lack of softness behind his gaze reflected zero regrets. I groaned, unsheathing the small blade at my side.

“Out of The Ring, Riley,” I grumbled, wanting a real fight and not the exhausted one he’d be able to provide.

He didn’t budge. Instead Alexiares stepped between us. Messy brown hair fell over his narrow eyes. “What’s the problem?” Alexiares asked.

“Fine.” I huffed, raising my knife in his face. “Then don’t.”

The lean on my right leg gave me away. Alexiares was quick. His arm latched on to my shoulder out of reflex. I looped my free arm around at the cusp of his elbow and put all my weight into my left leg. Leaning back, I kicked out, meeting Riley quickly in the chest and then under his chin. The movements weren’t full force, but enough to let them know I wasn’t fucking around. I needed to exert this energy and if they couldn’t handle that, then they needed to step out. Now.

Riley fell back at the impact. The point of our spars was to simulate. Getting rid of frustration or not, they were always a lesson. You fell as the opponent would fall and you figured out what they would do to get out of it. Alexiares went for the knockdown, but I turned it on him, using his own move as leverage. With Riley down, I put all my strength into putting Alexiares on his ass. After a punch to his temple, he tapped my wrist in mercy.

I let them up to catch their breath, circling them like a shark in murky waters. “Sloan’s dead.”

“The fuck …” Alexiares said, a hint of sadness in his tone. They’d never truly warmed up to each other, but he respected her—who she was when we left.

“Abel,” Riley growled, his hand resting on his lower back as he feigned injury. I knew Riley. He had no tells but pretending to have one. It was how he blended in. The more programmed, disciplined side of him would never let him show weakness.

“He saw it,” I said, deciding to take Alexiares head-on instead. He was watching me watch Riley, unsuspectingly. It was a ploy. Alexiares was always ready. Always on guard. My Bloodhound . I walked toward him with a smirk, watching his arm steady on my shoulder again. “Months ago.”

Alexiares whistled, a dare in his brown eyes as I tossed an elbow, freeing myself from his grasp. It was back up in the blink of an eye, aiming for his nose. He dodged it with a cackle. “That’s a tough hole to dig yourself out of, Abel. She is 100 percent pretending this is you right now.”

I turned on my heels, tossing out a kick to the torso. He caught it, throwing me against the ground in rag doll fashion. Mental gymnastics whirred in my mind, a tangled equation, as I debated dropping the knife. I reached above me for something to grasp onto. I found his ankles, but not before Riley pounced.

Sliding across the floor, the boys gave it their best shot. But they were no match for an Umbra Mortis . I kicked out to escape Riley’s hold, using the momentum to twist toward Alexiares’s thighs. He released me and I set myself on Riley, wrapping myself around his neck with my legs.

Abel kept to the corner of The Ring, his head now held high. I could hear his gulp from here. “No hole to dig. I had no choice, man.”

I scrambled for my knife off to the side, keeping my eyes on Alexiares, who had decided to circle me as his prey.

“I’m sure you acted within reason,” Riley gasped out definitively, struggling from the force of my locked legs.

I found the knife, throwing it toward Alexiares, who was attempting to approach from the side. It grazed his ear, drawing the thinnest line of red. A drop of blood pooled, glistening in the hot sun of the approaching Monterey summer.

“In front of everyone?” he asked with an arrogant, lustful smirk. Alexiares was taunting me, letting me get this anger out. This insane amount of rage that continued to simmer within a never-ending well of pain. Of sorrow.

“You know this to be fact?” Riley asked, tapping out gently against my thigh.

Alexiares stopped his stalking approach at the sight of something behind me. I let Riley find oxygen and pushed myself off the ground to see what gave him pause. Moe strode toward us, her long raven hair tied into a loose braid. There was color in her tawny skin, though the dark circles under her eyes were a dead giveaway to her current mental state.

She slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans and took in the scene. “Oh. She knows?”

I held in a calming sip of air. She was about to be the next person down in this ring if I couldn’t channel any more patience. I was sucked dry of it from these past weeks.

“You too?” I questioned in disbelief.

“I told you to take your time with your goodbyes,” she answered dryly. “That’s all I was at liberty to say.”

She didn’t need to defend herself and, honestly, neither did Abel. Anger was pointless when we had rules in place for a reason. I’d been gung ho on following them up till now. With everything else spiraling out of control, an emotional response to Sloan’s death was the only thing I was capable of. One moment to react, to feel, before I had to put my responsibilities and priorities first again. I sighed. “What do you need, Tomoe?”

“I think Seth was the leak for the bunker—how Ronan knew you tortured the guy. Probably for other things, too. I’ve been searching my memories like you asked. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”