“It took your human grandma a full month of agony to recover. When I finally said my goodbyes, I swore never to see them again. To keep them safe, away from our world. From mine and your father’s. They gave me more than enough.”
Wait!
“What does that have to do with Roran? How did it spread?” I ask, cutting in before she drags this out further.
Roran really wasn’t sick. Not truly. Her soul wasn’t deteriorating—it wasfightingmerfolk blood.
That’s why I couldn’t hear her soul’s whispers. They were buried, tangled with the blood’s ones.
“Do you think she knows about our kind?” I add, my heart spiking.
She shakes her head slowly. “I don’t know. But what Idoknow is that the Russian man your father killed that night wasn’t alone. There was another—he ran before we could get him. They were working for Fedor, who had just stepped up as head of their New York family.”
Everything clicks before she even says the next part.
“He saw you give her your blood… and that it healed her. And you said the Russians already knew aboutyoubefore.”
She nods.
And then the worst thought creeps in. My voice comes out hollow, haunted.
“Queen Marcella said she was sure her daughter was on land… Are the Russians the ones taking the merfolk?”
My breath chokes mid-sentence. It’s more of a cough than a question.
Her face crumples as the tears finally fall freely. Her cheeks flush red as she leans forward, burying her head in my chest, sobbing.
I freeze.
My mother—my strong, sharp, protective mother—is breaking.
Her emotions slam into my chest like a wave.
Guilt. Betrayal. Loss.
My hands tremble as I rest them on her back. Rage floods every vein, every cell, heating the room from the inside out.
“That’s not your fault, Mom. And I’m going to end that miserable filth.”
The last words taste sharp, like fire scraping the back of my throat. My chest hammers, each beat echoing through my bones. This isn’t just a mission anymore.
It’s personal.
He hurt my family. He dared to mess with my mother.
He hurt...her.
Roran.
She suffered under his hold. Grew up fearing him.
Hating him.
Wait—
Did she?
“What if she reallyknows?”
