Page 39

Carla

I shift around in the bed, stretching as memories of last night flood back to me. Amari, the way he saved me, killing Ackley, then taking me home, washing the blood from my body before making passionate love to me.

What began as a nightmare of a date ended with a beautiful night of passion. The way Amari kissed me, touched me, licked me—I felt like a woman, the most beautiful woman in the world. His sweet words still in my mind.

I smile, then open my eyes and turn to my side.

I stiffen. The bed is empty.

I draw in a sharp breath, then grab the pillow Amari was resting on and pull it to my nose, taking in his scent. Why am I so upset? I knew this was coming. He’s fated and I’m not. I have no claim to the man. He simply did me a favor.

Still, tears escape, and I start to cry, sitting up on the bed and tossing the pillow away. I stand up too abruptly and fall back onto the mattress. My legs are wobbly. I take a moment to myself, then finally stand up again, slowly heading for the bathroom.

I notice Amari’s duffel bag is no longer in the chair.

When I walk into the bathroom, it’s been fully cleaned up, all our clothes picked up from the floor, and the blood washed away.

He even tidied up the sink, putting away all the products I pulled out when making a mess of my bathroom to get ready for my date.

I step out and go to the linen closet to pull some fresh towels, then proceed to the bathroom and start the shower. I step in to wash the passion from my body. I’m sore, but it’s manageable.

Even the heat from the shower doesn’t ease the pain I feel in my heart.

I hope I can handle the next couple of days with Amari here, helping us secure the borders from radical activity without making things awkward. I know the kind of man he is. I’ve known from the beginning, so this shouldn’t shock me when he acts like nothing ever happened.

But still, I press my hand against the shower wall to steady myself and break, crying uncontrollably. Damn, this hurts worse than knowing my date was nothing but a sham to get my blood.

That’s it. I’ve had enough. I’m going back into the shadows. I can’t do this anymore. It was easier there. I can’t keep fighting for Wintermoon’s acceptance.

After my shower, I dry off and walk over to my dresser, lotion up, then slide into a fresh pair of underwear. I grab a nightgown from my drawer and put on some deodorant. Then I go back to the bathroom to brush my teeth before making my way downstairs into the kitchen for something to eat.

When I arrive in the kitchen, I’m suddenly not hungry.

I decide to leave, grabbing my robe that’s draped over my sofa and sliding into it.

I open my cabin door and step out, pulling it shut behind me.

I walk down my porch steps and through the clearing, heading for the forest. I’m going to tell my children that this might be our last week out of the shadows.

We aren’t leaving Wintermoon, but it’s time to go dark again.

I’m done trying. I can’t handle it anymore.

I travel into the forest, searching for my children. I can feel them, but I can’t see them. I stop in a small clearing, the trees giving the forest a dim lighting—I can’t see the sun.

“Children, come out,” I say, and I don’t have to ask twice. Within seconds, they start appearing from spaces where it’s surprising they can hide given their size—under logs, caves they’ve dug underground, behind thin trees.

Tofi and Niko lead the charge, Tofi’s burgundy body standing out as they move. I lean down, petting each of them as they gather around me, their legs tapping gently against my hands.

“My babies,” I murmur, running my fingers over Tofi’s bristly back. She immediately sends me images of Amari, asking where he is. She spells out “Daddy” in images with a question mark.

I smile sadly and shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know where Amari is, honey. I woke up and he was gone. And I wish you would stop calling him that. He’s not your father.”

Tofi spells out “Daddy” again in images, and I just sigh and decide to ignore it. I look over my children, placing my hands on my hips.

“I have something to tell you,” I say, glancing around the forest for a moment.

“We need to go back into the shadows.” I pick up Kenzo, one of the smaller arachnids, and hold him close, gently stroking his back and kissing his head.

“Mommy’s tired of fighting for a place for us.

We’ll stay on Wintermoon, but hidden. Just you and me. ”

Tofi stomps her legs roughly on the ground, and I can see the frustration in her eyes. She shows images of Amari and spells out “Daddy” again.

I sigh, starting to get frustrated. “Tofi, please.”

She sends images of Amari holding me, kissing me, making love to me in bed. I glare at her, my cheeks burning.

“Now that is an invasion of my privacy. And Amari is not your father—you need to stop this now.”

Tofi gets frustrated and stomps her legs into the ground, but she doesn’t push me any further.

“Can you and the others build me a web bed in the trees? I want to lie down and think.”

They immediately comply, climbing up the trees.

I smile, watching as they build me a beautiful bed, weaving their silk into a strong, intricate cradle among the branches.

A piece of the silk web falls down in front of me, thick enough to be a rope.

I grab it and am lifted into the air, then gently placed on the bed they’ve created.

I let Kenzo go, and he crawls into the trees to be with the others while I relax and stare at the sky.

I lay back on the woven bed, trying to find comfort in its gentle sway.

I think about Amari, how he drove me insane when we first met.

He was such an asshole, yet he kept doing the sweetest things for me.

And when he rescued me, cared for me, made passionate love to me. .. it felt so real. So damn real.

It would have been easier if he made me hate him. Why did he have to make me fall in love? It hurts so badly, like a deep, unfamiliar ache I can’t shake. I know I’ll never be able to bear seeing him with another woman—his true fated mate.

I roll to my side and curl into a fetal position, sobbing quietly. The silk cradles me, wrapping around my body like a cocoon of safety.

I stay that way for hours, until the sun starts to set and the night noises of owls, crickets, and other creatures come alive. I need to get down, I need to eat, but can I? My stomach feels turned upside down.

“I thought I’d find you here, baby.”

My eyes shoot open, and I sit up, looking around, wondering if I’m dreaming.

“Down here, baby.”

I look over my web-spun bed and down at the forest floor.

My eyes narrow when I see Amari standing there in a fresh suit with his expensive Italian leather shoes.

He’s holding a bouquet of bright red roses that are impossible to miss, even from this distance.

His face is illuminated in a way that highlights the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the perfect curve of his lips.

It’s not fair that someone can be so beautiful and such an asshole at the same time.

I lay back on the web and stare at the darkening sky. “What do you want? Why did you bother coming back?”

“What do you mean?” His voice carries upward, confusion evident in his tone. “Are you not happy that I’ve returned?”

“You left me to wake up alone and clean myself up,” I say, not looking at him, my voice cracking despite my efforts to sound strong. “I got the hint that you got what you wanted and were finished with me loud and clear.”

He goes quiet for a moment, and I think maybe he’s left. But then I hear him sigh, a deep sound filled with something like regret.

“My ridiculous sweetheart,” he says, his voice impossibly tender. “You are mistaken. I left only to handle something urgent. Come down here, I need to speak with you about something. It is important.”

“Go straight to hell,” I snap, sitting up just enough to glare down at him.

He laughs, a sound so rich and warm it stirs something deep within me. “I’ve been there many times—the hell you speak of,” he calls up. “But now I’m in heaven with you, and that’s where I plan on staying.”

He sets the roses down carefully and spreads his arms wide. “Come to me, my queen of shadows, my mistress of silk and secrets.”

I sit up fully now, looking down at him in disbelief. “What are you doing?”

“The moment I saw you,” he begins, his voice taking on a rhythmic cadence, “I knew you were different from any woman I’d encountered in a thousand years. Let me tell you what I see when I look at you, Carla.”

He takes a step back, his eyes never leaving mine, and begins to recite:

“Queen of eight-legged sentinels, emerald-eyed enchantress, your web of magic has captured what centuries could not tame. Not with beauty alone, though the stars envy your freckled face, but with courage that stands when shadows would swallow your name.

Your children dance upon moonlight, guardians of twilight realms, while you, their mother, command respect with gentle hands. A thousand years I’ve wandered, empty, searching, blind, until I found my home in your impossible, magnificent stand.

Spider Queen of Wintermoon, feared by those who cannot see, the strength in your vulnerability, the power in your care. They call you monster, but I see the goddess they’re too blind to witness, the most magnificent woman in this world—beyond compare.”

I stare down at him, momentarily stunned into silence. No one has ever spoken to me this way, with such reverence, such genuine admiration. For a second, I almost believe him.

“Ameerati al-helwa al-thameena,” he says, his voice softening, breaking the spell.

I sit up straighter, swallowing the lump in my throat. “What the hell does that even mean?”

He smiles up at me, and I hate how beautiful he is, even from this distance, the way his golden eyes glow as he looks up at me.