Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
ROMULUS
Every moment Lauren is away in Layden’s room, my foot taps against the stone floor.
I don’t even notice until Ksenia snaps at me.
“We had to come back in the helicopter early for this supposed emergency only to find that the woman hadn’t been kidnapped after all, and there was no emergency.
” Her pale eyes flash with irritation as she shifts in her chair, one hand supporting her massive belly.
“I’m about to burst with this pregnancy, and I hate flying in that tiny death trap. So do. Not. Test me.”
The helicopter is a new addition to our collection.
Kharon insisted we acquire it in case there were complications with Ksenia’s labor.
Considering the increasing size of our family and the fact that only two of us have wings, I purchased a military-style model with substantial space in the cargo hold.
If it were anyone else, I’d think they were calling it tiny just to irritate me.
But Ksenia genuinely despises flying—the irony of a woman mated to Death himself being afraid of heights isn’t lost on me.
I give her a wounded look, but she doesn’t appear the least bit impressed. Usually, Ksenia favors me. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say she actively dislikes Remus and always welcomes my waking. It’s not exactly a high bar to be more preferable company than a madman.
My eyes drift toward the stairs again, almost against my will.
At least I’m the more preferable company when it comes to everyone except Lauren. And now she’s spending more time with Layden than anyone else has since he returned from the dead.
Well, apart from Remus.
Back when our shared memory still functioned properly, I noticed that he and Layden were spending considerable time together recently. Mostly it was just Remus inquiring about the technology and other magic Layden brought back with him from whatever realm he’d been hiding in.
Abaddon has interrogated Layden on the same subjects extensively, but Layden remains frustratingly tight-lipped.
Even the information about the glamours that allow my brothers to walk about looking like normal humans wasn’t offered freely.
He only revealed that option when Kharon became anxious about the baby’s birth.
Yes, Hannah’s delivery had been fairly seamless, but should there be any complications with another hybrid birth—considering Kharon’s drastically different physiology with his multiple arms and darker origins—he wanted to be prepared.
What if the baby had extra limbs that became caught in the birth canal?
Remus’s solution had been to kidnap a human doctor, naturally.
But Layden offered up the possibility of glamours instead.
When Abaddon demanded to know why he hadn’t mentioned this magical remedy earlier, Layden demurred, claiming he’d been working on perfecting the potion for months.
Abaddon hadn’t looked like he believed it. All things considered, now I’m not sure I do either.
It was around then that Remus suddenly became very pliable about not joining them on their vacation venture to test out the magic potion. Too pliable. I should have known something was wrong.
Every time any of us called it “magic,” Layden got a strained look on his face and said tightly it was not “magic.”
But “inter-realm ingredient potion” is too much of a mouthful.
As to how he’d obtained matter from other realms and transported it into this one—and where exactly those other realms were located—he refused to divulge a single detail.
He’d rolled his eyes when I pressed him and corrected me irritably: “No, it’s essence from other realms, not matter. ”
I stare harder at the stairs, my jaw clenching.
Is he telling her? Right now, up in that technology-crammed room of his?
Has he given Remus a different potion to keep me sleeping and separate our memories? As soon as the thought forms, despite my frustration at my attached twin, I can’t deny the burn of curiosity that ignites in my chest.
Because I wonder if it works both ways.
Everything I do now—would my twin be blind to it?
I breathe out long and hard, stretching my neck and blinking at the thought of the first true privacy I might have in... well... ever.
It makes for a certain kind of existence, knowing that while in the moment I might have my mind and body to myself, the second I fall asleep, every corner of my memories can be excavated while my body is inhabited by someone else. A completely different mind. Perhaps even a different soul.
If we have souls at all, which over the millennia I’ve begun to doubt.
I remember when Kharon once confessed to me—horrified and weeping in a rare moment of lucidity while we were locked together in the dungeons—that there was no afterlife for our kind.
He’d searched every inch of the deathly planes for our brother Layden, scoured every shadow and whisper of the in-between.
Back then, we thought Layden long dead. The news devastated Kharon, sent him spiraling into such despair I feared he’d never recover.
But selfishly, I’d felt such wild relief.
At least in death, I’d be free of Remus. At least I wouldn’t continue to be chained to him for eternity.
But now Layden is alive, walking around upstairs with Lauren. And our father too—our monstrous, manipulative father who survived being burned down to an ember, who crawled back from literal ash.
Now that we know these bodies are truly indestructible, that though we may appear to die, no death is truly possible...
My stare drifts bleakly to the far stone wall, where ancient scorch marks still mar the surface from some long-ago battle.
There will never be any escape for me.
Did Remus realize the same thing? Is that why he made this rash move now? Or has he simply been biding his time since he was freed from the dungeon chains, waiting for his chance to steal himself a consort of his very own?
If we were burned in a great fire like we did our father and came back from embers, would we grow back to this same shape, still so tightly bound to one another?
What would it be like to each have our own bodies?
To be able to walk in opposite directions, to never feel the pull of the other consciousness lurking just beneath the surface?
It’s a foolish thought and one I imagined I’d outgrown centuries ago.
Usually, I have a far more iron grip over my own mind because I know Remus can see it all. And he is the last being I will appear weak in front of.
I stand straighter, roll my shoulders back, and clear my mind of such foolishness.
There is only strength in me. Only determination to see to my task: protecting the woman and getting her as far away from him as possible before he wakes up again.
I’ll only allow my twin to ruin one life—mine.
I might not know her well, but I know she deserves so much better than him. She’s intelligent, and beautiful, and—
And she’s coming back down the stairs, Layden at her heels.
What did they talk about? My tail flicks once—irritated, curious.
Hannah and the others have finished dessert by the time Lauren’s back, the plates scraped clean except for a few crumbs.
“I saved you two some pie.” Hannah bounces up as soon as they return to the table, her energy seemingly endless despite having chased a flying toddler around all day. “We were thinking of heading out to the lake in a bit. Raven loves to swim.”
“Oh.” Lauren’s eyes glance my way, lingering for just a heartbeat before she looks back to Hannah and smiles. “An afternoon swim sounds really fun. Remus got me a swimsuit when he ordered me a bunch of clothes. I’ll save the pie for afterward.”
Of course he did. Of course Remus thought of everything.
“Let’s get in the lake then,” Ksenia groans, leveraging herself up from the chair with visible effort. “I’d give anything to feel weightless right now.” She stands and rubs her lower back with one hand, the other cradling her protruding belly.
“Of course, my love.” Kharon materializes behind her immediately, one of his three pairs of arms wrapping protectively around her stomach while another set massages her shoulders with gentle pressure. His remaining hands support her back. “I’ll go up and get your suit.”
“I don’t care about a suit,” she says irritably, waving him off. “I’ll just go in this and you can bring me a change of clothes later.”
“Excellent idea.” Kharon nods over and over, his dark eyes soft with concern. “Whatever you need.”
Hannah beams at him for his attentiveness, that warm maternal approval radiating from her.
“I’ll get towels,” Abaddon announces, already rising.
Lauren looks directly at me. “You coming?”
It sounds like a challenge. Like she’s daring me to say no.
I stand up stiffly, wings shifting behind me. “I usually join the family on lake outings.”
“Perfect!” Hannah snatches Raven out of the air where she’s been fluttering near the chandelier. Raven giggles and her black wings flap harder like she’s trying to escape her mother’s grasp—until Hannah says, “Honey, we’re going to the lake.”
The toddler’s bright eyes widen with pure delight and she wriggles out of her mom’s arms anyway, flying toward the stairs in a blur of feathers and enthusiasm.
Apparently she knows the routine because we’re only halfway to the stairs by the time she’s back down, her little polka-dot swimsuit clutched in her tiny clawed hands. She thrusts it toward her mother with an insistent chirp.
“Yes,” Hannah laughs, the sound like bells. “But the rest of us have to change too.”
Raven starts to whine—a surprisingly piercing sound for such a small creature—especially when she sees Ksenia and Kharon immediately heading outside through the main doors, where afternoon sunlight streams in.
“Wait for your mother,” Abaddon chides gently, and Raven flies in agitated circles around his horned head but calms down slightly as they trudge up the stone stairs to change.
Even Abaddon has adopted some swim trunks that Hannah sewed for him—which I secretly find hilarious considering he spent most of his long, long existence in little more than a loincloth, if that. Sometimes nothing at all.
We have truly been tamed by these women.
And then I frown, the thought striking like lightning.
Could even Remus be tamed?
I immediately reject the notion. He’s not like the rest of my brothers. He never has been.
War and chaos are in his very soul. It’s not something he does—it’s what he is.
Lauren is the last to emerge from her room, and I glance away quickly after seeing her.
But it’s too late.
The image of her perfect, shapely curves is seared into my mind like a brand. The deep emerald green of her swimsuit against her skin. The way the fabric clings to every dip and swell.
I blink hard, yet there the image still is, stealing my breath, making my chest tight.
I lead the way back downstairs, wings tucked close to my body. It takes every inch of my iron self-discipline not to look over my shoulder so I might steal another glance at her.
All for naught because when we reach the bottom of the stairs, she and Hannah pass me, chatting easily like old friends already.
If I thought the sight of the front of her was enough to take my breath away, I was truly not prepared for—
Her generous backside and hips sway alluringly back and forth as she walks, the motion hypnotic. The high cut of the swimsuit bottoms reveals the full length of her legs, miles of smooth skin that I suddenly want to trace with my hands, my mouth—
I’d never given much thought to how ridiculously little cloth is involved in the outfits these females call a “bathing suit” before, but suddenly I’m both appalled and entranced.
It barely covers her nakedness. The thin straps. The minimal fabric.
And yet I also want to rip the rest off to reveal everything beneath.
Then I realize the direction of my thoughts and am appalled at myself.
Was I not just thinking that Abaddon spent most of his existence naked? And I know that in ancient times, plenty of women went about barely draped in clothing—priestesses, dancers, slaves. Yet none of them ever affected me as much as this female strutting before me.
I only realize I’ve been standing completely still, dumbfounded like a green youth, when Hannah looks back at me and laughs. “Close your mouth, dear. You’ll catch a fly.”
Lauren looks back then too, and I jerk my eyes guiltily up to meet hers.
There’s a moment of searing connection—her eyes widening slightly, a flush creeping up her neck—before they head out the door into the bright afternoon sunshine, leaving me feeling like I’ve just been kicked squarely in the chest by a war horse.
I let out a huge breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and sprint across the hall to catch up with them all.
I reach the door just in time to see Abaddon and his daughter launch into the air together.
His massive wings beat powerfully, creating wind that rustles the trees, while Raven’s smaller wings flutter frantically beside him.
She lets out a squeal of pure delight like she’s finally been set free to really fly, to stretch her wings without walls constraining her.
They soar out over the lake—a pristine expanse of crystal-blue water surrounded by towering pines and ancient oaks, their leaves rustling in the breeze. The water sparkles in the sunlight like scattered diamonds.
Kharon and Ksenia are already in the lake, the water lapping at their shoulders.
His multiple arms are positioned protectively around her as she lays back against his broad chest, her face tilted to the sun, eyes closed in contentment.
Her blonde hair floats around her like a halo, and for a moment she looks almost peaceful despite the obvious discomfort of late pregnancy.
Hannah has her arm linked through Lauren’s as they walk to the edge of the lake, their bare feet leaving prints in the soft grass. They’re so comfortable together, as if they’re already sisters-in-law.
The sight squeezes my chest tight in something like terror.
And not for fear of my family becoming too attached, like I ought to be thinking, either.
I’m terrified because of how much I want it.
How much I want her.
For myself.
Because if there’s one thing in this life I’ve learned—one truth carved into my bones over thousands of years—it’s that I can never, ever want anything.
Remus will always make sure of that.
I could never want my father’s affection without Remus destroying any chance of earning it. Could never want to succeed at anything I put my focus into without him sabotaging it, turning victory into ash. And I could certainly never want to gain the love of a good woman.
Never that.
Remus chose her for exactly this reason, and damn him to hell, he always chooses his torments exquisitely well.
She is perfect.
Beautiful and brave and clever and kind.
And she can never, ever be mine.