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PARTI
HOLLOW
1
By the end of the day, I was going to commit a murder and my mate was at the top of my list of potential victims.
"Why are we here?" I bit out, glaring at the back of Wynvail's brunette head as he led the way down Princes Street, our more interesting features glamoured to appear human, my wings invisible. We were in Edinburgh, walking from the old town to Haymarket. It didn't escape my notice that Wynvail had brought me to the city where I'd lived for the first five years of my life. Just how much did he know about me? I knew he was obsessed, but this…?
"I have a safe house here," Wynvail replied, his voice biting and tight. He was still thoroughly pissed off that we'd drawn the attention of Cronus. The titan who had Wane captive if my bastard mate was to be believed.
The titans were supposed to be dead. Their age ended when Zeus killed Cronus, with the help and cleverness of his mother Rhea. The woman who, if I dared to believe it, I'd just accidentally assisted with her death.
That's why you can kill me. You're my kin.
I clenched my jaw, fighting back emotion. I'd just killed the only family I had left. My bottom lip wobbled, my chest a wreckage of pain.
If I was Rhea's great granddaughter, that meanta godwas my grandparent. Which was insane.
Rhea—or Adhiti as we knew her—had been in the Wailing Caves for years. Centuries maybe. All that isolation and trauma probably drove her insane. Not to mention Cronus had sent her men to 'entertain.'
He made me a whore when I defied him, and trapped me here so I would be killed by my great grandchild.
If she really was Rhea—and as much as I hated Wynvail, it fit with those wailing voices calling her the mother—what Cronus had done was abhorrent. Cronus was going to suffer, both for what he'd done to Rhea and what he was doing, right now, to Wane.
What if he … what if, like Cassander Locke, he was…
I twisted away from Harvey who had his arm around my back and bent over outside a gothic cathedral, vomit exploding over the 19th century bricks. Ugh. I hadn't eaten nearly enough in the past twelve hours; bile burned up my throat followed by the acidic grossness of some horrific invention called a protein bar. The only good thing about what happened in the caves was leaving my bag behind.1
All thoughts of the caves cycled back to what was done to Rhea and what could have been done to Wane. What could be happening right now.
Would he plead for me to kill him when we found him? Cronus must have had him for a hundred years. Locke had scarred my mate beyond all comprehension in twenty years; what damage coulda hundreddo?
Would there be anything left of Wane when we found him?
I retched, more acid shooting up my throat. A warm hand rubbed my back until the vomiting stopped, and I straightened with a groan.
Harvey wrapped me up in his arms, still rubbing my back, and I didn't care that we were on the side of the road near a cathedral I'd just thrown up in front of; I held on tight and melted into him.
So many words clustered on the tip of my tongue, but he must have been as terrified as I was, and I didn't want to make his fear for his twin worse. I swallowed every panicked word and sucked in a shuddering breath.
When I drew back, Kai handed me a half-soggy tissue—how did he still have his backpack after everything that happened in the cave?—and Emlyn opened his arms.
"Em, you can barely stand," I protested, wiping my mouth on the tissue and blowing my nose to get rid of the awful burning sensation.
"Get over here, Hales," he rumbled, blue eyes narrowed in concern.
I relented, partly because with my arms around him I could hold him up. Partly because I needed one of Em's bear hugs more than anything.
I sighed, a weight falling off my chest when he hugged me close, his face tucked into my shoulder and big arms a perfect weight around me.
"I'm fine," I muttered, dragging in a long breath, his old paper and leather scent coating my senses
"If you're fine, can we keep moving?" Wynvail asked impatiently. "The house is only three streets away."
"Shut the fuck up," Kai snapped. Judging by the grunt that followed, he'd either punched Wynvail in the stomach or kneed him in the crown jewels.
I kissed Em's cheek and detangled myself from his arms, feeling less sick but no less worried.
