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“Handle those three and then pack any random shit you’ll need. We’re heading out before nightfall.”
Leaving them to it, I walked away from the docks and headed for my cabin.
It was strange being in here, knowing Lilith was gone. She was the one who made anywhere we were feel like home.
Usually when I crept inside, she’d be sound asleep, never once waking as I stood over her and watched. Even knowing she’d be gone, I left her flowers where I always had. The same ones that made me think of her.
Wildflowers.
They thrive in the harshest conditions.
They’re resilient—strong yet gentle. That was Lilith. I’d caged her in my prison of thorns, and she’d still found a way to bloom.
Staring at the blood on my hands, I sank down on the sofa and rested my chin on my knuckles. If my uncle could see me now…
I laughed to myself at the thought of that. It had been a long time since I’d come across anyone from my past. I wasn’t sure they’d recognize me. What they expected and what I had become were two drastically different breeds of predator.
We’ve all got aspirations—something or someone we dream of being when we grow up. Born as a Savage, my path should have been an easy one, simple and already paved. I was meant to be death personified, a reaper in the flesh.
My father didn’t look at me that way, though.
I could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe I’d ever follow in his footsteps.
That realization brought with it an expected degree of disappointment on both sides. It soon became obvious that my big sister was going to take up our dad’s gauntlet. I harbored no resentment towards Nyx for it. She was everything I couldn’t be, and I wanted something different.
I didn’t want to be known as merely Grimm’s son. I abhorred the thought of being a copy or protégé almost as much as I hated the idea of becoming just another Savage. There were hundreds of them.
So, while I didn’t have an issue with my sister, I resented that her taking my position didn’t free me. If anything, it made the chains around me that much tighter.
Maybe I could have lived with all of that, but then the ultimatum came, and it wasn’t something I was willing to accept.
None of that mattered now.
I’d made my choices.
I went down a path of destruction I could never come back from.
Ironically, that didn’t stop my past from catching up to me. It came calling in the form of a summons that I’d buried in the bottom of a dresser drawer.
An eloquent request to meet with my father and Uncle Romero. Two notorious legends in the Badlands.
I had yet to respond or truly consider it.
There were more pressing matters to handle before I dealt with the Savages.
Lilith.
And the inevitable bloodbath that was about to spill across the Badlands.
If I didn’t come across them before either of these matters were resolved, they’d be handled last. No matter what, Lilith would always come first and foremost before anything or anyone else. Giving her up wasn’t an option.
She had no right to leave my side when it was her fault I had become this way.
They say that if you love something, you should let it go, and if it comes back it’s meant to be.
That sounded like bullshit to me, which was why I came up with my own version.
If you love someone, let them go. Then hunt them down and drag their ass back, kicking and screaming.
I stood from the sofa and looked around the cabin, making a mental list of anything I may need. I hope she was prepared for the domino effect she’d just created.
I’d always be her protector, but I was her predator too.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The woods were ominously quiet.
It had taken approximately thirty minutes to cross the lake and reach a place level enough to get off the boat. We’d been footing it for another twenty, at least.
The sun was sitting proudly in the sky by this point. Patches of blue broke through the tree tops every few steps. I couldn’t tell if they were helping or making it hotter. I already missed the early morning chill.
This woodland wasn’t like the one on the other side of the lodge.
People didn’t casually stroll through it when they wanted to take a walk. Therefore, there weren’t any man-made paths, making the journey onward that much harder. Our footfalls were dramatically loud in the stillness, moving over uneven ground as we pushed through underbrush and branches.
“How are you doing?” Takara asked from behind me.
“A little hot, but otherwise fine.”
Poet glanced at me over his sweaty shoulder, pushing tendrils of brown hair away from his damp forehead. “I think she was asking how you’re doing about Samael. If she wasn’t, I am.”
