Instead, I watched as Astoria, the immortal woman who had been discarded by her husband, stood tall. She had become a pariah, a recluse, hiding in the shadows of her son's house after James’ death. And yet, despite the bitterness and contempt she should have felt, she had extended an olive branch to Mary and the child she had no obligation to care for. She supported them. Moved Mary and her daughter, Josie, into a quiet home not far from Mary’s sister. Astoria even paid for Josie to attend an expensive school, a gesture of kindness to a child born of betrayal.
Astoria, the woman who had been torn apart by her husband's lies, was the one who gave, who forgave, who loved where others would have broken. She was the first moment I ever considered that I might be wrong about humans. And it was all because of Astoria—my tempest,my curse…
I had always known what my duty was, what was required of me. She was the price of balance, the inevitable conclusion to the tangled threads of fate. In my world, there was no room for doubt, no room for error. Life and death were two sides of the same coin, and I had always played my part without hesitation.
But now, in the quiet of the night, as I sat with her, breathing in the rhythm of her life, I felt something shift. It was subtle at first, a suspicion in the back of my mind. A reminder that perhaps not everything was as it seemed. She had become a puzzle I couldn't solve, a contradiction I couldn't ignore.
She was a curse, yes. But she was also something more. Something that threatened the rigid order I had always clung to. I could feel it in the way she moved, in the way she looked at me, in the way she made me question everything I thought I knew about duty and balance.
And that terrified me.
I couldn't afford to feel this way. Not for her. Not for anyone. Because if I did—if I let my guard down—then what would become of me? What would become of the carefully constructed world I had built around myself?
She drew in a sharp little breath, her lashes fluttering and head tilting as if caught in a fitful dream. I watched her, a tempest in her own right and wondered what drew me to her, and why she was so different from the others…
She clung to life with an intensity I could never understand.
Love, while a worthy endeavor for those of flesh and blood, was meaningless to me. My existence was frayed, the ends seeping into the world, tying me into that from which I came from. Reminding me that, as much as I longed for what tormented me since the beginning of my consciousness, I could never have it.
Humans had it much simpler.
Yet even this they could not understand. With no end, and no connection, what is the point?
I envied the living, for they could die, and because they could die,they lived.
The balance had always been simple: I gave what was owed. No more, no less. Life and death, fate and consequence—they all had their place. But now, with her in my life, that place was becoming increasingly unclear.
Nothing comes without a cost. And I knew, deep down, that my cost would come soon enough. But I had no idea what it would be, or if I could survive it when it came.
And I guess that is the tragedy of it all…
Death doesn’t have a choice.
twenty
Astoria
November 2018
Iwas drunk, but notthatdrunk. Certainly not hungover enough to forget that I’d pressed my lips to his and fell prey to the temptation.
Who was the tempest now? He’d argue it was still me, but I had thoughts on that.
“Grab her bags, will you, Day?” Grim peeked around the door. Time was already halfway up the stairs.
After a night in Feodora’s opulent suite, we woke to the most decadent brunch I’d ever seen—and a house so silent. Not a single body draped across a velvet chaise. No bottles tipped in surrender. No glittering heels abandoned on the marble.
This was impressive, considering the level of debauchery that had unfolded beneath the chandeliers.
The mansion sparkled in the pale winter light, all gilt and glass, pristine in a way that made me uneasy. Outside, the Hamptons air had turned mild. Snow retreated from the cobblestones, and the sea glimmered with untold secrets. I tightened my sweater, suddenly cold, glancing toward the locked room Grim had vanished into. After brunch, he’d disappeared with Feo, that infuriating gleam in his eye.
But it wasn’t just his secrets that unsettled me.
It was mine.
I’d confessed far more than I meant to last night, words I couldn't unsay, truths I hadn’t meant to let out. And now, in the sobering quiet of daylight, they hung in the air like dust motes catching the sun.
Then… there was the kiss.
