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“Not exactly,” she replies, heaving out a sigh. “Though I wish I did.”
A strand of hair falls across her face and Jakub reaches up to tuck it back behind her ear. It’s a seemingly innocuous act, but it speaks volumes. There’s tenderness behind his touch, care. It throws me a little.
“Then what?” he asks her.
Christy glances up at me, and I see the indecision on her face. Eventually she says, “My mother sent Cyn several letters.”
“We’ve already established that,” I reply, shifting in my seat as my skin prickles with dread.
“Then you’ll also know that my mother saw my future mapped out, and sought the help of Cyn to ensure that The Masks and I were delivered those letters at just the right time, to guide us on the right path towards each other.”
“Yes,” Lorcan cuts in sharply. “What’s your point?”
“My point is that there was one other letter, or rather a portion of a letter from my mother that directly pertained to her relationship with you three.”
“Well, what did it say?” Carrick demands.
“I don't know. Cynthia refused to share the details with me,” Christy replies with a heavy sigh. “I was hoping perhaps she wrote it down?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Why would she keep that part from us?” Lorcan asks no one in particular. “Why write everything down for us to find, but leave that part out?”
Christy chews on her lip, concern creasing her eyes. “All I know is that she entered into this knowing the risks. She stepped onto the path my mother guided her to with her eyes wide open. She did it out of love. Love for us, her friends, and love for you three, the ones that I believe, deep down, she always knew were her soulmates.”
“She said that to you?” I ask, my fucking heart thundering.
“She didn’t have to. We both know it’s true.”
An oppressive silence blankets us as I struggle to absorb the gravity of her words, the air electrified with tension and blame. We could point the finger at each other for Cyn’s abduction, but even if we did, it wouldn’t change a thing. All we’re doing is wasting precious time.
“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up,” Beast interjects with a grin, scattering the tension like a bowling ball through Skittles. “Now, who we got to fuck-up to find out where those cunts are hiding?”
“I know exactly where to start,” I say, Jakub’s piercing gaze falling upon me.
He locks eyes with me. “I’m listening.”
And just like that years of animosity between us is put to one side in order to unite for a common purpose: rescuing Cyn.
2
Cyn
I’ve been imprisoned for just over a week now, spending my days making diamonds for Soren, and my nights pacing the length of the small cell I’ve been locked in, tracing my finger along the edges of the heavy iron bars that cover the windows.
Anotherprison.
It seems I’ve spent my life living in one.
Despite my faith in Arden, Lorcan and Carrick, dread grows like a weed with every passing day, suffocating my hope that they’ll find their way to me. Every night, when the sun drops past the horizon of this strange landscape, filled with miles and miles of rolling dunes and sparse vegetation, time seems to come to a standstill.
Tonight, as I stare out of the window with sweat from the heat of the day drying on my bruised skin, the winds stir the dunes in a lazy waltz, wild and free, dancing among the grains of sand in a chaotic rhythm without beginning or end.
Longing beats in my chest as the darkness of night swallows up any light, hoping that the men I love haven’t murdered each other in their pursuit of revenge, that they’re working together to rescue me, and ultimately save themselves.
With a heavy sigh, I pull out the letter I’ve kept sewn into the lining of my skirt. Its pages are yellowed with age, and the corners creased from where I’ve repeatedly folded it. I turn it over, the faint scent of lavender lifting into the air as I hold it up, barely able to make out the neat cursive.
Dear Cynthia,
