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“That’s it?” Ashton asks.
“That’s it,” I echo, imbuing my repetition with a depth of meaning that contrasts his simplicity. “The second time I found them, they were in the Veiled District down south. I called, repeating the same warning.”
“When did all this happen?” His hands reach out, gripping my shoulders with a firm, almost desperate hold.
“The first time, I was fifteen. The second, twenty-four.” Realization hits me—one of my siblings is at least fifteen years old.
“Have you?—”
I interrupt him, needing to control the pace of this revelation. “No, they aren’t anywhere in Terra now.” For six years, my search has been fruitless, as if they vanished or... worse.
“I’m sorry,” he says, a hint of sorrow in his voice.
“Don’t be,” I reply, forcing a small smile as I gaze toward the house. “They are alive.”
“How can you be sure?”
“They sent a card,” I tell him, a fact I’ve kept close to my chest. “This morning, when I went to check the perimeter, the mailbox was open.” Delving into my jacket, I pull out the card, an envelope I haven’t yet allowed myself to open.
“It’s still sealed. How do you know it’s from them?” Ashton’s eyes narrow slightly, a mix of curiosity and concern etched into his features.
“I can smell her,” I say, bringing the envelope to my nose. The scent of candied lilacs, unmistakably my mother’s, fills my senses. “Open it.”
Ashton carefully takes the manilla envelope from my fingers, tearing it open. Glitter sparkles from the card, along with the word “Congratulations.”
“It’s from her,” he confirms, looking up at me before handing me the card. “No return address, but there’s a stamp, so it went through the mail.”
My hands tremble as I read the message inside, “Congratulations on finding your mate.” This has nothing to do with the cold now.
“They are watching you,” Ashton whispers.
I close my eyes, bracing against the wave of grief threatening to overwhelm me. When I open them again, understanding and resolve are etched into his face. “I won’t let my father hurt them.”
“Neither will I,” he responds softly, his voice carrying the weight of knowing the pain my father inflicted during my upbringing. “Damn it, Dev.”
“I’m sorry to burden you with this,” I say, the weight of my confession sitting heavily between us.
“We’ll find a way,” he assures me, his gaze drifting toward the house, filled with a longing for something more than just shelter. He pauses then looks back at me. “You need to tell the rest of the pack. You can’t think for one minute that we all won’t back you up, and I won’t leave you. Not after?—”
“I know,” I interject, a hint of teasing in my tone to lighten the mood. “I gave in to you.”
His mouth parts in a mixture of surprise and realization. “You did give in.”
I tuck the card back into my pocket and start walking toward the house, the heaviness of our conversation lingering in the air. It takes him a moment, but he hurries to catch up.
“Why now?” he asks, his curiosity apparent.
“Seraphina,” I reply, knowing full well it’s a feeble answer. “She’s the catalyst.”
“That’s a crappy answer,” he retorts, his frustration palpable. “You’re using her as an excuse.”
“I know,” I admit, acknowledging Ashton’s need for more—a need I deeply understand. “For so long, I braced myself for the day you three would leave. I feared being an heir wasn’t worth the hassle, that I wasn’t worthy.”
“That’s another poor excuse,” he replies, his tone softer now, more understanding. “But I get it.”
“Seraphina helped me realize that I want you, all of you. I can’t keep denying my own desires,” I confess as we finally reach the back porch. I kick off my boots, shaking the last bits of snow from them.
“Dev,” Ashton says, grasping my arms and spinning me toward him. In the next breath, his lips find mine.
