Page 18

Chapter

Seventeen

A ZALEA

The emotion coursing through the bond tells me Kyson is convinced it’s nothing but a coincidence, his mind rejecting the notion that the woman who raised me could be innocent.

He needs to pin the blame on her, but after everything, I’m uncertain.

Doubt lingers like a fog in my mind, obscuring the truth.

I need something - a piece of the puzzle, a key to unlock my memory of that night.

Fragments and flashes flicker in my mind’s eye. I see Marrissa, her figure adorned in the hunter’s uniform, the insignia on her chest. But why do I sense that she didn’t call the hunters in?

How does this all connect to the missing rogue women and children?

So many questions remain unanswered or shrouded in doubt.

The threads of Ester and Trey’s story intertwine with Tandi’s, creating a web of intrigue and confusion.

As they discuss what to do next, my eyes meet Trey’s, a flicker of understanding passing between us.

His gaze shifts back to the box of documents he’s rummaging through, as if searching for a hidden truth he feels too.

“How did you know I’m alive?” My question hangs in the air, drawing everyone’s attention like a magnet.

“The sire bond. I still feel it. I was sired to you when you were born. It wasn’t until years later when it went dormant that I truly believed you were dead, like everyone else, the bond is always there but i've learned to shut it out, or it would have driven me insane,” Trey answers.

The weight of his words settles upon us all before fading into the background. Yet, for some reason, they sit oddly with me.

“What if that is the link to the dead children and rogue women?” The thought escapes my lips before I realize it, causing everyone to stop once more. Kyson leans forward from where we sit together, his lips grazing my shoulder.

“What are you talking about?” His question echoes the curiosity burning in the eyes of the others, while Trey seems lost in the depths of his thoughts.

“When did the children start going missing and turning up dead?” My words hang heavy in the air.

“After your parents’ murders,” Kyson and Damian respond simultaneously, their voices overlapping as they respond simultaneously.

“Do you have a list of the approximate ages of those children?” Dustin clears his throat at my next question.

“The archives hold lists of those found and locations, but not all of them were identified,” he admits.

“And the rogue women? When did they start getting killed?”

“Sporadically. Sometimes entire rogue camps are found dead,” Gannon adds, prompting me to bite my lip in thought. “We didn’t really see a pattern to it.”

“What are you thinking?” Kyson’s voice rumbles from behind me as I turn on his lap, facing him directly.

“A pattern.” My response is met with skepticism, doubt etched into the lines on their faces.

“There is no pattern. If it were a serial killer, there would be a pattern, but there isn’t. No preference for type or ages, nothing. The only link is they were rogue and spanned half the countryside,” Damian counters, his words laced with frustration and confusion.

“That’s because the hunters aren’t killing them just to kill them,” I retort, my voice growing stronger as conviction takes hold. Trey gasps beside me, his eyes widening with realization.

“They’re hunting you! They know you’re alive!” His revelation sends him rushing out the door before anyone can stop him. Kyson leans back heavily in his chair as silence descends once more, the weight of the truth sinking into our bones. I know I’m onto something.

“If that’s true, they would have had to know you exist. Which I suppose Marrissa could have told them, but what she just had a sudden change of heart and couldn’t go through with it?” Kyson questions.

Damian scoffs dismissively, at Kyson’s words.

“Unless she was never part of it,” I counter, my words tinged with desperation. Kyson growls behind me, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. How can he not see what I’m seeing?

“Just hear me out. What if she didn’t have anything to do with it?

If what Ester says is true, then Marrissa was sired to me.

She wouldn’t let them kill me. So if she were part of it, why wouldn’t she just hand me over to the hunters or tell the hunters that I am here?

Why would she run with me?” I can feel doubt swirling around them as I pose these questions.

“Okay, say it’s true. Why do you remember her wearing the hunter’s uniform that night?

And why would she kill my sister? And who else could have been their inside person?

” Kyson’s voice is sharp with frustration, his words a shield against the unsettling truth.

I know I’m right, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.

“What if she didn’t kill Claire? I know you want to believe it was my mother, but why would she wait years, working here and not just help the hunters get inside the castle grounds again?”

“Because she’s working her damn way up the ladder, that’s why!” he snaps, his voice echoing with anger and disbelief.

“Or maybe you don’t want to face the fact that there was a mole among your people! I don’t believe she killed Claire. I think she’s been framed!” I snap back.

“And what purpose does framing her serve? If she’s innocent, why would she come to my kingdom if not to kill us too?” he retorts, standing up so abruptly that I have to catch myself on his desk to avoid slipping off his lap.

“You’re wrong!” he declares before storming out of his office, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

Damian growls and clicks his tongue before following him, their departure leaving a void in the room.

But nothing I say seems to make him see reason.

He needs a villain, and my mother, or the woman who raised me, fits the bill perfectly.

He doesn’t want to acknowledge any fault within his own Kingdom.

He is too caught up in finding it in mine.

“I know I’m right. I need to go home. I need to remember,” I breathe.

“Azalea, he won’t let you leave here,” Gannon warns.

“Good thing it isn’t up to him then. He can join me or not, but either way, I’m going home,” I assure him.

“For what? You can’t just leave,” Gannon protests.

“The Kingdom remains as it was left, untouched. We need answers, and the only way to get them is by starting from scratch,” I explain, my voice steady and resolute.

Gannon clutches at his hair anxiously, his face etched with conflicting emotions. “And if you’re wrong? We’ve been investigating this since the first kingdom fell - the first Kingdom, Azalea! We would have found proof by now! We know the hunters are involved; we know Marrissa was their leader.”

“No, you think you know,” I correct him gently as we both exit together, stepping into the unknown. “And what reason did she have for keeping me alive?”

They don’t want to see any fault in their investigations, but they are ruled by fear and anger that has been simmering for years.

As for me, being an outsider gives me a different perspective, a fresh pair of eyes unclouded by preconceived notions.

If only they would listen... I knew Marrissa, and one thing I’m certain of is that she loved me as if I was her own.

I have no idea why she ran from Trey and the Landeena guard, but I know she must have had a reason.

All I need now is to get Kyson to start thinking with his head instead of letting the vendetta he holds against the woman who raised me cloud his judgment.

The bond between us throbs with his implosive nature, his frustration and anger threatening to consume us both.

As I reach out through our bond, what catches me off guard is the knowing that he is in his old quarters.