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“Why this one?” My mother holds up the jade.
I shrug. “Why not?”
She places it down. “You’ll return these to Peaches.”
“Fine.”
“Have a little respect, Willow.” Dad’s voice is deep and full of reproach. “Why can’t you find something useful to do with your time?”
Harsh. And unfair. “Because I’m only good at one thing, and you won’t let me do it.”
“Surely there’s something meaningful around here you can do. Stealing is not the answer.”
“It was good enough for Mom.”
His eyes flash with a feral light. “It was different in the old world. She was alone, manipulated, and homeless. Don’t compare her situation to yours.”
“I guess two out of three isn’t so bad, right?”
A puzzled look enters his eyes, swiftly followed by hurt.
My chair scrapes the wooden floorboards as I stand. “I’m tired.”
Mom joins me while Dad storms off with a haggard expression. I swear the air parted to avoid his wrath. He’s slain more souls than I have, eaten his prey, and ripped out their throats, yet I baffle him. I want to go to him, to hug him and tease him, to wrestle and play with him like I did as a child. Things were so much simpler then. We had a few good yearsand then I ruined it by getting kidnapped. Now he finally has the chance of happiness with two perfect little girls who can actually shift into wolves like him.
I’m ruining that, too.
“Willow.”
My mother’s voice stops me at the door. I turn, surprised to find her holding the green stone.
“Keep this one.” She places it in my palm. Warmth radiates through my cold, tired bones. The blisters left from the acid seem to ache more beneath her scrutiny.
“Why?”
She tenderly wipes messy hair from my face, focusing her healing gift on my wounds. The pain starts ebbing but then suddenly returns. She gives a self-deprecating shake of her head and steps away.
“I shouldn’t have done that without your permission.” She then asks hopefully, “Do you want me to heal the wounds?”
I blink rapidly, unsure how to reply. She’s never asked before; honestly, I expected the same reaction from her as my father. I expected more... I don’t know... more chastisement over my recklessness.
“My mom never believed in me,” she says softly. “My visions embarrassed her. Back then, magic was a trick from charlatans and performers. It made me doubt myself. When I foresaw my father growing ill, I failed to push him to get help. He died. When you came along, I promised myself I would never ignore my instincts again. I tried everything to keep you safe—to be the opposite of my mother.”
“I know.” I shake my head. “You’re both doing your best to support me.”
She takes my good hand. “What I’m trying to say is that I fucked up.”
I lift my gaze. “What?”
“We’re still doing too much for you. Even Thorne tries to stop you from hurting yourself by refusing to let you in his squad. But I see now that the only way to show belief is to support you while you learn from your mistakes, not stop you from making them.”
Tinger’s face flashes in my mind, and I wince.
My throat clogs. “My mistakes ruin lives.”
“Oh, honey.” She pulls me into her embrace like a child. And damn, I lean into her warmth, craving the touch of kin I’m so used to holding at arm’s length.
“I’m sorry you hurt like this,” she mumbles. “Being a parent sucks and growing up sucks too. I keep forgetting that in my time, someone your age was living out of home and well into her career—often with her own family. It’s different for fae. Now that I am one, time has slowed for me. But for you, it’s sped up. We’re crowding you, blocking you from the sun.”
