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"Just drop it, dear," Mom interrupts. "Let's focus on the prophecy and then let her decide, since he obviously isn't going to be of much help."

Dear? Since when does she call him dear?

Drackus curses under his breath, but he walks over to a picture and pulls it down to reveal a safe. With quick strokes, he keys in the combination. A clicking sound drums out, and then he pulls out an old relic of a book. The pages almost look too fragile to be touched, but he turns them anyhow, searching for something.

"I'm not going to be of much help because you don't know for certain you're right," Gage chimes in before dragging his lips over my knuckles and pulling me closer. "As a matter of fact, I

think you're incredibly wrong."

Mom tightens her lips to a thin line as she sits down on the edge of the couch adjacent to us. Her eyes find mine as I give into the comforting touch of my dark user and lean against his hard body.

"I'll start while your father searches," Mom says softly, focusing her sole attention on me. "Alyssa, you're not a typical witch, but that's something you've known for a while. You're an anomaly for which there are no words to describe. I didn't realize the cross you would bear when I fell pregnant with you, and I never believed the prophecy when I learned of it the third month you were inside me. It wasn't until you started showing signs of your powers... all of them...that I realized the proverbial promise held merit. Now...now I don't know what to tell you."

I look at Gage and his lips gently stroke mine the second I give him the angle. Fortunately, Drackus's head is buried in a book, so he doesn't notice.

I pull away, gently patting his chest, and then I sit up and move to the arm of the chair, distancing myself slightly from the distracting dark user. Though I really enjoy his touch, I still can't stop thinking about Kane.

My phone hasn't stopped ringing since the other night when both men had deal-breaking issues. It's either been Kane or Gage calling me at all times of the day and night. Now that Gage is here, I simply wish it was Kane.

"How about you tell me what prophecy," I murmur softly as Gage's hand comes to rest around my waist, pulling me back onto his lap against my silent protest.

Kane's probably at home with Amy, but Gage is here—for me. He has been since he met me. Perhaps I should just get over Kane despite how much I still want to be with him.

Oh this is so frigging frustrating.

"Very well. I'll start at the beginning. You've heard of Freya and her two daughters—Estella and Dragona, correct?"

"Um—yeah—Gage told me about them. How did you know I knew?"

"Because I told Drackus I told you," Gage answers, letting his lips start trailing over my shoulder through my shirt.

I shiver against the heat of his breath, and I feel his smile as his hands grip me a little tighter than necessary.

"Anyhow," my mother continues, further showing her distaste, "I'm the daughter of Estella."

My whole body tenses. She said it so casually, as if it wasn't a bomb being dropped.

"But—no. Estella died. I knew Grandma and Grandpa up until they died. They were your parents. You even look like them."

"They died?" Gage asks.

"An execution gone wrong," Mom says with a sigh, denying her tears their right to fall.

I continue with confusion. "But—"

"I didn't look like them that much," Mom interrupts, getting back on topic, "but when people expect you to look like someone, they tend to find similar features. Gwyneth and Palo raised me as their own child, and I loved them for that. They also kept my identity secret from everyone, including myself. Hilly never even knew, and she was their daughter. She even thought I looked more like Mother than she did.

"Hilly still doesn't know, Frankie only recently found out, and Shay is the only one I trusted with this secret other than your father. Drackus has only told his most trusted associates."

I sit back, letting Gage support me as I soak it all in. Drackus continues tuning out everything and everyone as he flips through the pages of the old book, his brow furrowing from his intense study.

"What does any of this have to do with me?" I ask, feeling weighted by truth and uncertainty as they mingle within me.

"You're the daughter everyone fears," Drackus murmurs dispassionately, so engrossed in the book that he doesn't even realize how unemotionally he just rattled that out.

"What?" I gasp, choking on the shock.

Mom slaps Drackus's leg, and he peers up from his book to offer her a shrug. "They shouldn't fear her yet, but they do. I'm just pointing that out."

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