Page 2

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I glanced down, seeing blood dripping onto my vanity, shattered glass scattered over the tabletop and my lap. The constant sound of my blood splattering filled the emptiness of my room. It paralleled the emptiness inside me.

The glass bottle had shattered under my fingers, and I should have had some sort of reaction, felt something other than the dull throbbing at the back of my skull. At the very least, I should have been rushing to the bathroom for a cloth, soap, and water to clean up the mess.

But I didn’t move.

Instead, I lifted my eyes and stared at the pale-faced girl in the mirror. Her eyes were rimmed with gold that melded into the vibrant shade of aqua, cheeks were flushed, and lips poised into a tight line. There was a hardness about her, an edge, as if any second she might jump over the cliff and plunge into the dark depths below.

Over the last few weeks, I had rolled through the stages of grief, moving from shock to denial, then to pain and guilt, which brought me to rage. This stage seemed to hit me the hardest. I could not seem to move on to the next phase. I was just so fucking angry all the time.

But it was the Crown of Darkness glittering like the ocean at night that changed me wholly. The crown was made with dark magic and here in the mortal realm was not a tangible object. My fingers could pass through the peaks, and no one else could see it—no one else except for Angel.

Exhaling, I pulled my gaze away from the mirror and glanced back down at my hand. The bleeding had already stopped, leaving me with just the silence. And the pulsing in my head. I wasn’t concerned about the cut on my hand. It would heal soon enough and had already started to stitch itself back together. Demon blood was handy in instances like this.

What I was concerned about was the storm brewing inside me. Something would have to give.

Shoving out of the chair, I flung open my bedroom window and stuck my head outside. The biting air of winter nipped at my cheeks, but I welcomed the cold, even if it was a painful reminder of him.

I didn’t want to think his name. Thinking about the demon who was my mate only fueled the anger I so desperately wanted to rid myself of. It was all-consuming, much like my desire for revenge on the demons who’d destroyed my ability to love.

Opening my mouth, I screamed into the howling winds, releasing the fury building inside me. When I was done, I listened with my demon hearing as the icy air whisked away the echo of my pain.

For a few more moments, I gazed out over the snow-dusted fields across the street from my home. Each flutter of snow that had fallen over the last month was like reopening a fresh wound, leaving me raw and exposed to the world.

But nothing was worse than the night—the twinkling of stars.

It would be easy to say that my life went back to normal. Well, as normal as life could be for me. I’d never had a mundane or dull existence. When you were half demon, those average days weren’t in the cards for someone like me—a Divisa.

There was no going back after what I’d experienced. There was only existing.

Every day was a struggle.

I liked to torture myself and sneak up on the roof to just lie there. It was the only time I actually got a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. My demon blood kept me from freezing to death; that and the heated blanket I wrapped around myself.

Travis caught me out here shortly after I’d returned from my stint in the underworld. The disapproval had been written all over his face. “Are you kidding me, Lex?” he had scolded, and then promptly climbed through the window to join me. “Do you know how dangerous it is out here? The roof is blanketed in ice and snow.” He had a valid point, but the spot I’d chosen to sit was covered by a little gable that shielded the shingles underneath it. I had also cushioned the roof with a thick blanket. “Not to mention, it’s cold as balls out here.” He proceeded to shiver, running his hands up and down his arms as his breath clouded in front of his face.

My brother and I shared many similarities, mostly in looks. His sandy-blond hair was disheveled like he’d spent the past hour raking his hands through it. Our personalities were night and day though. He never took anything seriously and always looked like he was part of some joke none of us were in on, but I could always count on him. So I had just tugged my legs up to my chest and rested my chin on the top of my kneecaps. “It’s the only place I can sleep,” I told him.

He draped an arm around my shoulders and scooted closer to me. “After witnessing that place firsthand, I can understand that.”

No one liked to talk about the Court of Darkness. Not because they didn’t want to or weren’t curious, but because they were afraid I would fall apart. Again. It was a legitimate fear. I rested my head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Travis.”

That had been the last time he expressed his worry about me going out on the icy roof. If he happened to pass my bedroom in the middle of the night, or if he saw me from the driveway after coming home from Emma’s house, he would come to sit with me and not say a thing. It was exactly what I needed, just to know he was there.

My dad was another story. He didn’t know what to do about me, how to help me. I tried to explain this wasn’t something he could fix, but he was my father. And my pain was his. If he knew what was really going on inside me, he’d probably have me committed. When it came to Dad and Chloe, I did my best to mask the truth from them. They had already been put through so much, especially raising two half demons. It was past time Dad got to be happy. I wouldn’t take that from him.

It took weeks for my family to stop looking at me as if they expected me to freak out at any minute. But could I really blame them? I had given them every reason to worry about me. I’d been a wreck since my trip to the underworld. And that was putting it mildly. Between the countless tears and the strange stirrings inside I didn’t want to admit were there, I was a hot mess—unhinged. Just when I thought there wasn’t any more fluid in my body for my eyes to shed, another tear would escape.

But a month had come and gone. Christmas along with it, not that I had celebrated. My favorite holiday, the one on which I couldn’t wait to rush downstairs and unwrap all those shiny new packages, was nothing but a blur of colored lights. I hadn’t left the house. I didn’t shop. I didn’t make cookies. I didn’t blare Christmas carols through the house.

I was Lexi Scrooge this year. Ho. Ho. Hell.

Panting, I curled my fingers against the windowsill as the wind rushed over my face, drinking in the crisp scent before slamming the window shut and sinking down to the ground.

I concentrated on the flow of my breathing. In and out. In and out. In and out. With each long inhale and exhale, I shoved the anger deeper inside me until I no longer felt as if I would explode.

Twenty minutes later, a car pulled up into the driveway. Gravel crushed under tires as headlights beamed through my room. That would be Dad and Chloe. Travis was at Emma’s. He seemed to spend more time there than he did at home. I couldn’t help but think that was because of me.

How could I blame him? I was a buzzkill.

Sighing through my nose, I stood up and went to the bathroom to splash water on my face. I twisted my neck to the side, catching a glimpse of the tattoo that graced my nape, a pair of black wings that stretched to my shoulders. I touched the left tip of the wing and frowned at the cool wisp of tingles that radiated into my fingers—darkness.

It was a demon mark that claimed me as another”s. But there was more. Something dark ribboned in my veins, and it unnerved me.

I hadn’t heard from Ashor, not that I had actually believed I would. Hell didn’t exactly get text messages or have FaceTime capabilities. We had no way to communicate. Even our bond would somehow allow me to… I don’t know… talk to him? In my thoughts, perhaps?

But no.

Nothing.

Nada.

Not a single message from the underworld.

Maybe that was what was eating me alive. I had no way of knowing what had happened to Ashor. Where he was. Had the queen exiled him? Was he gravely injured? Had he been able to heal? I knew some powers, like Soren’s, could prevent a demon from healing. The idea was terrifying.

But the one question I refused to ask was if he’d survived.

I couldn’t go there, couldn’t think of him as truly dead. A part of my soul would be gone as well. I consoled myself by telling myself I would know if he was gone. The mark would fade. As I stood, looking in the mirror, the black ink etched into my skin was vibrant and pulsed with energy.

Ashor Clave, the Prince of Darkness, was very much alive.

That was what kept me going.

“Lexi!” a soft, feminine voice called from downstairs. “We’re home!”

Drying off my hands, I padded across the room, flipping on the hallway light. It was time to put on that false smile and force myself to consume dinner. Food was a chore. It had lost all taste. Just a substance I needed to keep my body going.

Dad and Chloe were in the kitchen unloading Chinese takeout onto the kitchen table. Dad flipped around to grab silverware from the drawer and spotted me leaning in the doorway. “Hey. We brought dinner.”

“I can see that,” I said, with a forced smile. It hurt my cheeks.

“It’s from that place in town you love,” he added in hopes of brightening my mood, which meant I wasn’t doing a palpable job at faking it.

Spring Valley really only had one Chinese restaurant, so it was everyone’s favorite, but I only gave him another small smile. “Smells good.” I moved into the kitchen, grabbing a few plates and bringing them to the table.

“Travis is at Emma’s, so it is just the three of us,” Chloe said cheerfully, setting the open cartons of food onto the table. She sometimes exaggerated to compensate for my shitty mood, as if she was hoping to infuse me with happiness through food or by osmosis. She meant well and cared for me. I couldn’t fault her for that.

“He should just move in with her already,” I replied, scooping a forkful of noodles out of the white carton as I took a seat.

Dad scooted the chair out beside Chloe and sat down. “Don’t get my hopes up,” he mumbled. My time away had aged him. More gray hair gathered in his scruffy chin hairs and at the temples, but he was still attractive for a dad.

My older brother, Travis, still lived at home, much to my father’s chagrin. And mine. Travis was understanding, sometimes to a fault, yet continued to be a constant thorn in my side. I knew he stayed to look after me, but he seriously needed to start living his own life. Prior to my kidnapping, he had been talking about moving in with Emma, his longtime girlfriend and one of my best friends. He and I were going to have a little chat. Travis could no longer put this on the back burner. If my trip to the underworld taught me one thing, it was not to waste time. You never knew when it was all going to be ripped away from you, including the people you cared about.

And I loved my brother. I wanted him to be happy, and his demon-hunting girlfriend did just that.

“I’ll talk to him,” I announced, grabbing an eggroll and a packet of sweet and sour sauce.

Dad glanced at me and blinked, an expression of surprise on his features. “I think that would be good.”

A pang hit me in the chest; remorse, regret, take your pick. My emotions were a revolving door, but I saw the hope in his eyes. He wanted his daughter back, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him she was gone. I tore open the package of sauce, averting my eyes to my plate. There was only a small portion of food on it, just enough to make it look like I was eating.

“How about you? Are you ready to get back to school?” Chloe asked, spinning a bundle of lo mein noodles around her fork.

It was reasonable for them to expect I’d pick my life back up where I had left it before being abducted by the Wild Hunt. That I would go back to college, get my degree, get a job—all those human responsibilities. That was the normal avenue into adulthood, but nothing about me was normal. And I was coming to realize that I didn’t want to live a normal life. I’d never really had one, so why start?

I shoved a small pile of rice around on my plate, trying to figure out how to tell them what was on my mind. “I’m not going back to school,” I announced. Winter break was almost over, and everyone assumed I’d be returning to college.

Nope.

Chloe’s mouth dropped open.

And Dad frowned, staring at me like he was trying to figure out if he’d heard me right. “You only have one year left.”

Due to my absence in the middle of a semester, I had to repeat those classes, but after my stint in the Court of Darkness, I had no desire to return to school. Like, ever. I had more important things on my agenda, which were best kept to myself… for now. The last thing I wanted was to give my dad more gray hair. The man looked as if he’d aged ten years, but who could blame him. He had lost his only daughter for months.

“I know. I’m just not ready to go back,” I admitted, my shoulders slumping.

“Maybe it”s best she takes the year off, Devin.” Chloe stepped in, being the supporting stepmom she always was. She patted Dad’s hand, offering him an encouraging smile. “She’s been through a traumatic ordeal. A few more months at home would do her good. Do us all good.” She turned that smile on me. “We love having you at home.”

“You are always welcome here, Lexi, but it might be healthy to get back into a routine.” Dad voiced his thoughts. “However, if you think you need more time, I support your decision.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I let them both think that there was hope I’d eventually go back. There wasn’t. I had no intention of ever returning to college. I’d make it up to him somehow.

That was the end of the discussion about school, and the conversation moved to lighter topics, like work, the impending snowy weather, and what was on TV. I did my best to listen and nod when appropriate, but it was too easy for my mind to wander. My eyes shifted to my glass of water. The clear liquid inside rippled like someone had bumped the table. I stared at the ripples, watching them settle, but within the water, I saw a sparkle, a single star twinkling. That silver light brightened, and behind the glowing star was a face.

My breath caught.

I’d recognize those features anywhere, even distorted by water. Ashor, my heart sobbed. His violet eyes pierced into my soul, and my fork slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the table.

I jolted at the sound and blinked.

That was all it took; one split second and he was gone.

I ran my fingers over the glass, drops of condensation gathering on my skin. Had I really seen his face? Or was my mind conjuring images of him?

“Lexi?” Chloe’s soft voice pierced through the haze of my bewilderment. Her gentle hand touched my cold and clammy one, giving it a squeeze. “Are you okay, honey? You look a little pale.”

My eyes shifted away from the glass, and it took a few seconds to focus on Chloe’s pretty, motherly face. Concern and something else shone in her green eyes. Fear? Not of me, but for me?

“Perhaps you should go lie down,” she suggested. “I can bring you up a cup of hot tea in a little bit. Your skin is so cold.”

I nodded, scooting the chair away from the table and standing up. My head spun. I was grateful for the excuse. I needed to be alone, to understand what just happened. If it had been real or if I was hallucinating now. “Thanks for dinner,” I said, carrying my plate to the sink before I headed back up to my room. Another dinner ruined by my dejected mood.