“No, just mental.”
Erick studied me before motioning to his TB again. “I had an Abernathy preload it with everyone worth knowing at this place.” He smirked. “Healing takes power, little sis. Who am I messaging?”
I didn’t have enough energy for his games. I closed my eyes. My beating heart slowed in time with the throbbing of my poor decisions. I only truly trusted one person, and I whispered his name.
Chapter 16
Cayden
IwoketoanAdler Michelson staring me down. Quinn’s small body was still limp in my arms, the two of us tangled on her bed. I’d burned through every rune I knew, carving them into her skin, her thighs, her ribs, desperate to hold her here. One toe was broken, but the rest of her hurt so much she hadn’t noticed.
I’d exhausted myself. Truth be told, my London rival could have slit my throat in the middle of the night, and I would’ve slept through it. It was an isolating thought.
“She’s healed?” Erick asked, his voice drifting across the room.
“She’s healed,” I confirmed, holding her tighter.
She didn’t stir.
I couldn’t see anything other than Erick’s eyes in the early morning light, nor did I want to. “What are your intentions here, Lawson? Will she vanish into your compound if I let you leave this room?”
Anger flushed my skin. If I weren’t still exhausted from healing her, I might have acted, but I only pulled her closer.
“My family will never get near her.” The vehemence in my voice surprised me, and I controlled myself.
Erick was not my ally, but rival was maybe too strong a word. I’d never met an Adler Michelson; I only knew of their reputation and lack of faith because of my Prophet. I knew a lot of things only because of my Prophet, and how many of those were true was now a daily struggle to figure out. Nothing about the world was what I thought.
“So, you plan to start a new family with her?” Erick pressed.
“No. She’s an idiot.” I swallowed hard. “And so am I.”
Erick scoffed. “So, you don’t have intentions. You’ve got a fertile powerhouse in your arms, and you’re going to let her go?”
I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know she’s fertile?”
“What do you think I did the moment I discovered she was a woman? Sit and twiddle my thumbs, waiting for you to show up?” Erick sighed. “It took me less than a heartbeat to bounce my magic off hers and feel her vitality. A better question is, why didn’t you do it already?”
A wave of devastation hit me, choking my breath. I couldn’t answer him. I turned my head to the skylight so Erick couldn’t see my eyes. My infant daughter’s purple, misshapen head filled my memory. Until that moment, I’d been so sure of myself, my life, my place, my family. And since that moment, I’d doubted and reached beyond what I knew. My search brought me to this castle with Quinn, Brit, and Everly. Three women, nothing alike, living lives I didn’t know women were capable of.
I didn’t check any of their fertility because it wasn’t my business. They were my friends, and, most importantly, they were more than their ability to procreate, something I’d never considered while at my Prophet’s side.
Until my daughter, I’d been blind to everything but the world my Prophet presented.
I had to look up the word ‘cult’ after reading it, and once I did, I couldn’t stop reading. People, not a few but thousands, dating back to long before the tremors, lied to control and create a reality where they were virtually gods. They manipulated people for sex, money, and power. Each story villainized the man who’d taught me everything I knew. Every person who recounted their experience spoke with my voice.
My Prophet was my world. He controlled every aspect of my existence; and I loved him for it. Or I had.
I had.
My view of existence expanded. I didn’t know women could be like Everly and Brit. I didn’t know men could have a second chance.
My Prophet's teachings weren’t for the good of his people; they were only for himself.
My daughter’s final breath seared into my mind, and a tear escaped, slipping down my cheek.
Now that I knew, I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t forget. But I also didn’t know how to move forward. Who was I without my Prophet's guidance?
“The Prophet’s hold is weakening.” I clamped my mouth shut, not used to sharing something so personal, but needing to say it, needing to hear my voice admit how wrong I’d been. I’d never felt a pull as strong as the one toward Quinn. But I couldn’t act on it. Our futures would never tangle. My family would never blight her beauty.
