Chapter One
Keryth
“ C ome on, girls! We need to be out the door in five minutes! Brush your teeth!” I called out as I scrambled to finish packing everyone’s lunches, including my own. I relished the fact that I could afford to pack them—and myself—fresh fruit every single day now. That wasn’t the case a few years ago.
Alsira, my seventeen-year-old sister, came down the hall with her guitar strapped over her shoulder, and I asked, “Did you put on deodorant?”
The look she gave me could’ve fried a dragon. “I’m not a child, Ker. I know how to get myself ready in the morning.”
Instead of arguing with her to remind her of the few years I’d had to ask her every single day because she’d forgotten every single freakin’ day , I simply grunted and waved her on. Excuse me for not getting out of the habit when it seemed like there was always at least one kid I had to remind daily.
“Two minutes, girls!” I yelled. If I didn’t give them several warnings, they’d make us late. And if there was one thing I hated, it was being late to work because my girls wouldn’t get out the door. I had to drop them off at several different schools, and the later we left, the longer it took because school traffic was no joke.
When I slid the last lunch bag into a backpack—including the extra lunch I put in Alsira’s for one of her friends—I reached out to run my hand over one of my plants’ leaves, and the plant reached back to me. I was a half-fae with an affinity for nature, so plants loved me as much as I loved them. And I really loved all the plants in my apartment because they were the ones my mother helped me pot when she was still alive.
It was a good thing my natural fae magic helped keep them alive and thriving—even those that normally wouldn’t live this long. I didn’t know what I’d do if any of them died. They made me feel like a piece of my mom was still with me, and I… didn’t want to lose that feeling. Ever.
My alarm went off, alerting everyone in the apartment that it was time to go . “Seven o’clock! Come on!”
Gemma came out, dressed in all black and looking like a teenage goth kid. I wasn’t sure when my sixteen-year-old sister decided to turn goth, but it was a pretty new thing, and I wasn’t used to it at all.
I pointed at her. “Deodorant?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Dad .”
I sighed and moved to the end of the hall. “Saranor and Zellya, let’s go!”
“Coming!” Saranor yelled back, but Zellya didn’t respond. Lovely. Now I had to hunt her down.
She could be doing anything from coloring in her coloring book or swinging off her closet door, trying to do a flip in the air, and landing on her bed—yes, I’d caught her doing that on more than one occasion. It was the reason I’d signed her up for gymnastics a few years ago.
“Zell, we have to go!” I gave her and Saranor’s bedroom door a cursory knock, but I opened it without waiting for a response since I didn’t have ten years to stand around waiting.
Saranor, my nine-year-old sister, shot me a grimace. “Sorry, Ker. I’m comin’ now.”
“Thanks. Where’s your sister?” I glanced around the room but didn’t see Zell anywhere.
She waved at the closet. “Hiding.”
My brow furrowed. “Do you know why?”
“I think she’s hoping you’ll forget about her so she doesn’t have to go to school today.”
I held in a sigh. “Alright. Thanks, pumpkin.”
She shot me a smile and headed out of the room to join her older sisters.
I walked inside the room, shut the door behind me, then walked over and knocked on the closet door. When Zell didn’t say anything, I knocked again and said, “I know you’re in there, Zellya.”
I heard a murmured, “Shit,” and my eyebrows rose. Zellya was only eight years old. She shouldn’t be cursing. Where was she even hearing that kind of language? I did my best not to cuss around the kids, but I supposed I slipped up sometimes.
I rubbed my forehead. Great. Another thing to worry about.
Pushing that aside for now, I slid down to sit right next to the closet door and tried to keep my voice gentle. “You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on, peanut? Why don’t you wanna go to school?”
“I just don’t wanna.” Her voice was muffled through the closet door, but I could tell she was genuinely upset and had possibly even been crying.
Even though we did not have time for this, I didn’t want her to feel like I didn’t care about her feelings, so I took out my phone and sent a text to my boss, Remi. He was also something of a friend, and perhaps even on the way to being family—especially since he was mates with my cousin, Bel—so I wasn’t too worried about his response.
Me: I’m really sorry, but I might be a few minutes late today. Zell’s having a bad day.
He texted back so quickly, I didn’t even have time to put my phone away or say anything else to my baby sister.
Remi: No worries. Take care of her. Let me know if you need the day off. But is Zell okay?
Even though I’d been working for Remi for the better part of two years, his kindness still always threw me. Not that long ago, I’d been working two horrible jobs that paid like shit with bosses that couldn’t have cared less about my well-being or that of my kids’.
It was so damn different with Remi, and I kinda loved the wolf shifter for it.
Me: Thank you. She’s okay. Just upset. I think something happened at school, but I’m still trying to figure it out.
Remi: Gotcha. Let me know if you guys need anything.
Me: Thanks, Remi.
Remi: Anytime.
After I slipped my phone back into my pocket, I focused all my attention on my baby sister, asking, “Can you tell me what happened? I thought you loved school this year.”
“I did, but now I hate it.”
“Why?”
“Marjory called me a knife-eared freak, then called me knife-ears for the rest of the day.”
I blinked at that. Her ears looked like knives? That was… ridiculous. But apparently, to an eight-year-old, it was the highest of insults.
And honestly, I could understand Zell feeling self-conscious about her ears. I’d felt the same growing up. It was hard not to when our half-fae heritage was written in the pointiness of our ears and our sharp features. Living in a world where fae—even half-fae like us—were second-class citizens meant it was difficult to feel proud of that side of ourselves.
Granted, the king of Sedoba had done an amazing job over the last year with changing laws and making us—legally—equals again. But that didn’t mean the prejudices of other people went away. That didn’t mean we didn’t still face daily discrimination. It only meant that we were legally allowed to do something about it.
Well, as long as the cop taking our statement actually cared enough to help and didn’t want to discriminate against us.
I was proud of who I was, and I hoped my girls knew that and felt proud themselves.
And I wasn’t above emailing Zellya’s teacher about this little brat, Marjory, either.
To Zell, I said, “I’m really sorry she said that to you, peanut. But… you know that isn’t true, right? You’re not a freak. You’re amazing and intelligent and kind and sweet and so very beautiful.”
I heard a few sniffles. “You… you have to say that. You’re my da—brother.”
My brow furrowed. Had she been about to call me her dad?
For some reason, her thinking of me that way made my eyes water a little. Technically, I was her guardian since I’d adopted all four of my sisters after our mom died when Zell was a baby, and I’d always treated her as my own. I considered all four of them my girls, and I did my best to love them as much as our mother had. I just… didn’t always feel like I was doing a great job of it.
But Zell really thought of me that way?
It made my heart swell.
And now I was all sniffly too. Great .
“I don’t have to say anything, Zell. You know I don’t tell lies.”
She finally opened the closet door, but only to shoot me an incredulous look. “You told me I looked cute when I wore that awful yellow shirt.”
“You were six! You did look cute!”
“I looked like a giant banana.”
I couldn’t help the small snort that escaped. “But you were a cute banana.”
She rolled her eyes, but I saw a smile peeking through. “You can’t be trusted when it comes to any of us being cute.”
I mean… that was probably fair. I always thought all four of them looked cute. Well, maybe not always. I didn’t appreciate the super short skirts Alsira liked to wear sometimes.
“I can’t help that you guys are all adorable, no matter what.”
She rolled her eyes again, and gah! She was gettin’ so damn old. She was so shy outside of our home, but here, safe within these walls, when she let her guard down, she was full of sass. I loved it.
But right now, she was doubting herself, and I really wanted to shake some sense into the kid who put that frown on my little girl’s face.
“Do you think I look like a knife-eared freak?”
Her eyes widened. “No way! Your ears are awesome, ‘specially with all the earrings.”
“Well, guess what, missy?” I booped her nose. “You have the same ears as me, so why in the world would you think yours are any different? You’re beautiful, and your ears are lovely.” I cut her off before she could even argue. “Are you really gonna believe Marjory over me?”
She opened her mouth to argue, thought for a moment, then blew out a long breath. “I guess not.”
“You guess not? What kind of answer is that? Do I really not rank over Marjory when it comes to beauty tips?”
A reluctant smile spread over her face. “I guess not.”
I made a disbelieving sound before I reached over and tickled her belly until she was curled up on the floor, cracking up laughing.
When I finally released her from the tickle monster, she stared up at me from the floor and asked, “Ker?”
“Yeah, peanut?”
“Can I get my ears pierced?”
I was not expecting that. “Um… you really want to?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Okay. Why don’t you think about it for a few days, and if you still want to next week, we’ll figure it out.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
She let out a small squeal, jumped to her feet, and crashed into me as she hugged me. She almost knocked me to the floor, but I was pretty used to tiny half-fae children tackling me like this, so I was able to catch her without falling or banging my head on the wall.
I gave her a hug back, and when she stood, I did the same and followed her out of her room.
When we reached the living room, Alsira opened her mouth, and I just knew she was going to complain about being late. So I shook my head and gave her the look . She huffed in annoyance but kept her mouth shut, and the five of us headed out and got into my minivan.
I switched it on and turned down the music that was playing on the radio. “Everyone have their backpacks?”
A chorus of yeses were said.
“Does everyone have their phones?”
Another chorus of affirmations were thrown in my direction, so I put the van in gear and pulled out into the early morning traffic.
I sang along to a popular song on the radio while my girls played on their phones and acted like their dorky big brother didn’t exist. I knew better than to try and start up a conversation with any of them this early in the morning. I’d been awake longer and was further along in my day than they were, so I didn’t take it personally. None of us were big morning people.
When the song ended, I grimaced because a news alert came on. As I reached to change the channel, a spark of recognition in the name made me pause.
“Former Speaker of the Tower, Aaron Ralodove, escaped from a prison transport vehicle last night,” the announcer said. “Ralodove was convicted of treason, among other crimes, a few weeks ago and was on his way to a high-security prison late last night when the transport vehicle was hit by a semi-truck. It’s unclear at this time if this was a true accident, or if it was a planned attack to free Ralodove.
“The werewolf is considered highly dangerous, and if you come across him, you need to seek immediate shelter and call the authorities. Do not engage. I repeat, do not engage.”
The announcer continued to list all of Ralodove’s crimes, but I blocked it out because I knew all too well exactly what that bastard had done.
For twenty-five years, he’d sent fake documents up to Garrick—the dragon shifter king of Sedoba. Meanwhile, Ralodove passed awful laws that allowed discrimination against the fae and made us second-class citizens in the first place.
Because Garrick was stuck up in his tower and never came out, he hadn’t realized what the werewolf was doing until Tan—Garrick’s soulmate and one of my friends—told him.
Garrick had spent months trying to reverse all the damage Ralodove had done, but I wasn’t sure it could ever be fully reversed, not really.
That werewolf was evil personified, and he deserved to be in jail.
I couldn’t believe he’d escaped.
Mother of All, I really hoped they caught him quickly and no one got hurt by that evil man again.
Pulling me from my dark thoughts, Gemma asked, “Are we still going to Tan’s next weekend?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“Can I bring a friend?”
“Um… I suppose I can ask him. I doubt it’ll be a problem, but you’ll have to give me their name so Roman can do a background check.”
Roman was Garrick’s best friend and head of security, so he always ran background checks on people who came to any of Tan’s get-togethers. Sometimes, I was still surprised that I was actually friends with the king and king’s consort. Kinda batty.
Alsira said, “We should just bring Tray instead.” Trayben was Alsira’s best friend, but he got along with all four girls, and I knew Gemma considered him a friend of hers as well.
Gemma frowned for a few seconds, then nodded her head. “Yeah, let’s ask him. That okay, Ker?”
“Sure.” Tray was a sweet kid, and he practically lived at the apartment anyway, so it would be nice to bring him along.
“Yes,” she cheered quietly, and I smiled at her.
The girls all loved getting to go to the tower—a giant beast of a building right smack in the center of the city where the king lived and many people worked—and hanging out with Remi, Bel, Tan, Garrick, and a few others.
I usually had a nice time as well because my good friend, Oakley, would be there. They were good people, and I enjoyed the company… as long as I stayed away from Anton, the most annoying, rude, ignorant, and old vampire I’d ever met.
Picturing that jerk’s handsome face made a weird twinge in my chest that sort of felt like longing mixed with a healthy dose of grief and anger.
My feelings about the man were… more than complicated.
Alsira changed the radio station, landing on another popular song, and I was grateful she started singing with her amazing voice, distracting me from all other thoughts—thank the Mother of All.