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Synora gave a sharp nod and then led Holly up the three flights of stairs to the first door. Pushing it open, Synora took a deep breath before stepping over the threshold. Inside, a thick layer of dust covered every surface. It looked like the inside had been frozen in time, a memorial to the family who had lived here. A table and chairs was still set for a family of five, and the cozy blankets over the living room area were covered in a thick layer of dust from disuse, but Holly could picture Synora and her parents and siblings sitting on the couches, talking about their days.
Holly took a few steps inside, clouds of dust swirling around her feet. “When was the last time you were here?” she asked.
Synora avoided Holly’s eyes as she delivered the words. “I haven’t been back since the day they died.”
Holly’s heart clenched. She hadn’t realized Synora hadn’t been back. She had thought… Well, she had thought she lived here still. But, looking around at the family home, Holly realized it would have been too painful. And yet Synora had suggested that they come here.
“Synora…” Holly didn’t know what to say.
“It’s okay,” Synora said. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”
Holly took Synora’s extended hand, trying to give her what comfort she could from her tight grip, and followed her deeper into the tree. As they walked around, Synora pointed out little details and memories. They ascended another flight of stairs to the bedrooms. Synora paused at her parents’ door, and Holly tugged her down the hall. “Show me your room.”
Synora led Holly to the door at the end of the hall and pointed out the other two doors. “My siblings’ rooms. As the youngest and the only daughter, I got my own room.”
The door creaked as she pushed it open. The dark green blanket was tinged gray with a layer of dust, much like the rest of the room, but Holly could see traces of Synora’s personality in the artwork that hung on the walls, the books spilling over the bookshelf, and the pots on the windowsill.
She headed to the bookshelf, voicing the thoughts that had been on her mind since Synora’s confession downstairs. “I’m sorry you had to come back here.”
“It’s really okay. Especially if something we find helps Luca.”
“Your mother was a healer?” Holly asked, remembering what Synora said at the hoard.
“She was. She was studying under Greta but was close to finishing her studies. She loved plants and herbology, was always experimenting to find the best cures.”
“She sounds wonderful.” Holly wondered if she had been born into a different family, a different coven, if that might have been the life for her, instead of fancy dinner parties and arranged marriages and being like an emotional tonic whenever her parents needed her.
“She was. Come, let’s go to her office and see what we can find.”
Holly followed Synora quickly, not wanting her mate to stay in the painful memories here any more than she had to.
Synora climbed up yet another flight of stairs, and Holly was beginning to see why the Elves seemed made of muscles. The final flight of stairs opened up to a large great room. Against the wall of windows, several tables and shelves had all sorts of potted plants on them. Most of them were dead, but the occasional green shoot popped up among the brown. On the wall next to the plants, a dusty couch with several throw pillows was angled to look out the windows.
Against the opposite wall of the windows, a long desk covered with paperwork rested next to another dresser with more paperwork spilling out of the drawers. Holly winced when she saw the amount of paperwork.
Synora rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, my mother wasn’t the most organized. My fathers would tease her about it but would always help find whatever she needed.”
Holly laughed as she pictured an older version of Synora ruffling through paperwork. “That sounds amazing, to be honest. I don’t think my papa would help my mama if she was like that.” He barely helped her with anything, as that was her role for him.
Synora placed a hand on Holly’s back, and shivers danced up Holly’s spine. “Let’s get started,” she said.
They started digging through the paperwork. Synora started at the dresser, and Holly started on the desk. She started at one corner of it and worked her way slowly across. About fifteen minutes in, Holly realized Synora’s mother might have been a genius when it came to herbology. Her notes about certain plants were far more intensive than Holly had ever seen in any textbook, and her proposed uses for them were things Holly had never thought about. She tapped her chin as she read through one set of papers. For all her messiness, she’d kept meticulous notes on each sheet, but nothing was written on feral shifters just yet.
Synora let out a soft laugh, and Holly looked up at her. Her green eyes twinkled as she looked at Holly. “What is it?” Holly asked.
“Come here, you have a little something…” Synora beckoned Holly closer, cupped her chin, and swiped the back of her other hand over Holly’s cheek. A black streak of dust covered her hand.
“Oh, oops.” Holly blushed. She must have looked silly.
“You’re beautiful,” Synora whispered, “with or without the dust.” Even though she smiled, Holly could still see the grief in her eyes.
Synora released her, and Holly turned back to the paperwork, wanting to find what they had come for so Synora could leave the tree and stop reliving painful memories. She felt the heat of Synora at her back. Synora must be having a hard time reading her mother’s words.
“I still hate that you have to come back here.” Holly frowned down at the paperwork. “I would have never agreed if I had known.”
“There are a lot of painful memories,” Synora agreed, “but there are also opportunities to make new ones.”
Holly turned back to face Synora, and her breath caught as Synora’s dark green eyes met her own. She hadn’t had much alone time with her lithe Elven warrior, but she recognized the heat in her eyes, and Holly knew it was reflected in hers. Whether it was the vulnerability of being here or all the revelations of the last few days, Holly didn’t know, but what she did know is she craved her mate. And they were all alone.
