Page 28 of Cruelly Fated (Princes of Avari #1)

Twenty-Four

ALLIE

I eased onto the familiar street. My car had made the full trip again without a single sputter.

I was beginning to wonder if the fae gods had finally answered my prayers.

The constant anxiety that my Honda would stall every time I hit a red light had worn my nerves raw.

I’d turned into a nervous wreck every time I looked at it.

But not lately. Not since I met Kyon… Could he have…

? Nah, he didn’t even know what car I drove.

Two dust-covered construction trucks sat in front of Grandpa’s house, lumber scattered across the front lawn.

Coasting by, I peeked inside the now windowless building.

Empty space and yellowed walls. The roof shingles had been stripped, and a few workers hammered new boards into place, the steady thud of nails ringing in the quiet street.

I U-turned at the cul-de-sac and parked on the opposite side in front of a neighbor's house.

My heart hammered against my rib cage, conflicting emotions twisting inside me. I regretted coming; the trauma of losing family and home was too fresh. And yet, by coming here, I got a weird sense of closure too…

Without the funds to fix it up ourselves, the house would’ve crumbled into something unlivable in a few years. Now it had a chance. A new beginning. Maybe a family with kids would move in and make it home again.

And, in a way, the house renovation symbolized changes in my own life.

After losing everything, I could only move forward.

Rebuild my life on my own terms. Yes, things had gotten messy for a while with the school situation, at work, and in my sex life…

But it also inspired me to try new things— and I don’t mean the irresistible dragon .

I’d sold my first digital art piece yesterday.

I’d only ever drawn on paper, never considering the digital art market. The demand was surprisingly high.

I swiped at a stream of tears and sniffed. Then I tore my gaze from our old house and shifted the car into drive .

About a dozen cars lined the Avari Penitentiary’s visitor parking lot when I arrived.

Traffic on the way had been a nightmare—stop-and-go for miles, probably roadwork.

A guard outside the building eyed each person as they slipped past him to get inside.

I jogged up just as he was preparing to lock the entrance.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty. I don’t tolerate tardy visitors,” he muttered as we stepped through the door together.

I bit the inside of my cheek, unsure how to respond. Best to keep my mouth shut. One wrong word and they could kick me out. Visitations were technically a right, but in Avari, they were more like a privilege. A carrot dangled before us and snatched away the moment someone misbehaved.

Another guard scanned my badge, then ushered our small group toward the visitation building.

My palms turned clammy. I hadn’t seen Grandpa in a week, a stretch that felt like a year here.

He could be bruised again, even though Kyon swore his protection continued.

My thoughts spun with everything that might’ve gone wrong.

I hurried into the room, bracing myself for another glimpse of Grandpa’s misery.

I nearly tripped over my own feet, yet somehow managed to flop my butt on the stiff stool.

Grandpa looked thinner, and his beard had grown out, but nestled in the jungle of white fuzz were his red lips, curved into something I hadn’t expected.

A smile.

“What an entrance,” he said. Was that a jolly tone ?

“Grandpa!” I couldn’t believe my own eyes. He looked…happy, and not a single bruise marked his pale skin.

“I’ve had some good days here…” He leaned closer as if we were sharing a secret and dropped his voice by an octave. “I joined a gang.”

What!?

My lips flapped uselessly. My expression contorted somewhere between horror and disbelief. I could feel actual foam trying to form on my tongue. Of course, I should’ve known better than to trust a violent, sexy, unhinged dragon shifter prince with leaving Grandpa in “good hands.”

Grandpa clapped his hand over his chest and broke into a wheezing laugh.

“Oh, you’re kidding,” I said, relieved. So effing relieved.

“No, child, it is true. I’ve just never seen you so flabbergasted. Like it’s the end of the world or something.” He waggled a finger at me in a woo-woo gesture.

I’m going to kill Kyon.

He’d corrupted my grandpa!

“H-how?” I managed through clenched teeth.

“Ah, don’t worry about ol’ me, child.” He waved a hand airily. “I’m starving to find out what happened to that dragon of yours after the incident.”

If I had been drinking something right then, I would’ve choked. “He’s not my dragon, Grandpa.” I shoved my tangled hair out of my face.

“Semantics. You can’t fool an old beaver. When I was young—”

“He’s fine,” I blurted. “He got seriously injured. Life-threatening, actually. But then I took off his ankle brace, and he healed like…overnight, pretty much.” After he hunted me down and nearly roasted me like a marshmallow. No need for Grandpa to know that part.

“Serious, you say.” He rubbed his jaw. “I wasn’t his fan at first, but he’s a good listener and he saved my life.”

Oh, fae gods, I hadn’t even considered… Grandpa had been there. Kyon swore Pete made it out unharmed and hadn’t been in any real danger, but he’d never given me details.

I gulped. “Tell me everything,” I whispered.

By the time Grandpa finished recounting the brutal attack on Kyon, I’d gone mute. The stupid dragon had risked everything to protect my family. He could’ve died that night—would have, if not for some mysterious gargoyle breaking his faction’s rules to help him.

“So Aragon offered me a place in his gang,” Grandpa went on, casually, as if talking about a bridge club. “Said it’d be easier than him claiming protection over me.”

My eyelids twitched. I closed my eyes and reopened them after a beat. “Aragon’s a gargoyle…but his gang is mixed?” That was unheard of. Gargoyles didn’t treat other fae as equals. But maybe prison had its own set of rules.

He nodded .

I pressed my lips together, eyes narrowing. “And what exactly do you have to do to stay in this…gang?” I spat the word like it burned my tongue.

“Oh, don’t worry, my angel. We don’t do anything illegal or violent. It’s more of a club, really.”

“A club?” I shot him my best are-you-shitting-me look.

“What else would you call a group of old shifters who sit around playing cards or chess all day?”

“No way…”

“Yes, way.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “Don’t tell me they have Rummikub too?”

His grin stretched wide, exposing every tooth like a mischievous wolf flashing its fangs. Rummikub had always been Grandpa’s favorite; we played every Sunday at the house. The house…

I blew out a breath, my mood souring. I had to tell him, although I hated ruining his good mood.

“We lost the house,” I said in one breath. Like ripping off a bandage.

He stilled, the smile draining from his face.

Bowing his head, he gripped it with both hands, obscuring his expression from my scrutiny.

I waited, letting him absorb the blow. His shoulders trembled, and I ached to reach through the glass and hold him.

There was so much life packed into that house, so much history…

I prayed he wouldn’t ask about his belongings, most of which I had to leave behind .

“When?” he finally asked, his head still hanging low.

“Monday.”

He whipped his head up. “That means…” He shook it as if he couldn’t accept the truth of the situation. “You’re homeless. Oh, fae gods, I did this to you.”

“No… I mean yes… But I’m not homeless, nor hopeless. I’ve got a temporary place to stay and an offer of a well-paying job.”

“Officer Marley.” He said the name with conviction, straightening in his seat. “He came through for us.” His bloodshot eyes locked with mine, the redness a sign of an incoming migraine.

“He offered me a place and agreed to store your belongings,” I said, exhaling slowly. There, I didn’t lie.

Grandpa nodded solemnly. “I will make up to you for this, my child. When I come out… I’m a changed man. An experience like this one gives a new perspective on life.”

I smiled, wanting so badly to believe his every word.

“I kept Mom’s keepsake box,” I added quietly, eyes dropping to my hands. Just saying it tugged at something buried deep. The ache never fully faded. Not a day passed that I didn’t miss her. But watching the house being restored had stirred something else in me.

“Go on,” he said thoughtfully.

I curled my fingers, unsure if fear or resolve tightened my chest.

“I think I’m ready to learn how she died.”