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Ten minutes later, Shay stood in her mother’s study, watching as the sky outside the windows darkened, the last stripe of orange on the horizon fading away.
Athene sat in the chair behind the desk, looking over papers as if Shay didn’t exist—as if she hadn’t personally summoned her to this hellhole.
“How much longer must I endure this torture?” Shay demanded.
Her mother’s eyes flicked up. For several blinks, she stared at her. And then she let go of the papers, folded her hands on the desk, and smiled in a way that made Shay feel like she was going to throw up. She had seen that look many times; it was as much an omen as the call of a magpie.
“Shay,” Athene began, her tone far too chipper. “I’ve decided I want you to pretend to be Anna until she comes back.”
Shay’s stomach dipped. Oh gods, she was going to throw up.
Had her mother finally found out that she shared her same elusive magic? Shay scrambled to think how that might be possible, but she came up empty.
“Pretend to be Anna? What do you… What do you mean?”
“You’ll have my help, of course. I’ll use my powers—no one will be able to tell the difference.” The words should have eased her concerns, but they only made her feel worse as she realized what that meant.
Shay ground her teeth. “You’re sick.” Her head started throbbing.
The corner of Athene’s mouth twitched. “You’re dramatic.”
“I won’t do it.”
“Shayla!” Athene barked, her name echoing hollowly in the cavernous room. “You will do this for your family.”
“What family?” Shay seethed. “I don’t see any.”
She turned and made for the door Balthazar was blocking—the man Athene was taking to her bed. He was one of the few people in the Riptide who were trusted with the truth of Athene’s illusion magic.
Her mother stood. “Where will you go, Shayla?”
“Don’t talk to me.” She glared up at Balthazar. “Get out of my way.”
“To him?” Athene continued, referring to Roman. She strutted across the room. “He doesn’t care about you like you think he does.”
Shay whirled around. “Oh yeah? He cared about me a whole hell of a lot more than you do!”
“Roman Devlin is a very gifted actor. If you paid any attention to your city and took your role as a Selkie seriously, you would know that. That man is poison, and I am ashamed of you for opening your legs for that disease. I thought you were better than that.”
Shay’s nostrils flared. “I didn’t open my legs for him.”
“You can’t lie to a hellseher, Shayla. His scent was all over you, and yours on him.”
“What do you want me to say, Mother? That I fucked his brains out? Because I didn’t.”
“You did something with him, and it is never to happen again.”
Shay erupted. “I hate it here!” she screamed. “I hate it here, and I hate you!” She pointed in her mother’s face.
Athene’s gaze scalded Shay to the bone. “That man used you.”
“Gods!” Shay started pacing.
“He made a goddamn fool out of you. You’ll be ridiculed for your idiocy, soon as word gets around! ‘The Whore of the Riptide Opens Her Easy Legs for the Wolf of the Hollow’. If our lives were broadcasted, you’d be on the front goddamn page!”
“What do you want from me? Do you want me to say that I’m sorry? Because I’m not. I’m not sorry. I did what I had to do to find Anna.”
She scoffed. “And did you? Did you find her? If you found her, do tell, dear daughter, because I certainly don’t see her.”
