Chapter 2
Dean
That siren is going to be the death of me.
I stomp down the halls to my office, cursing my beautiful mate for pulling yet another prank. After her second stunt, I had the foresight to stash essentials all over the castle because Hazel’s pranks were getting out of hand.
I still don’t remember how I ended up in a prank war with my gorgeous, fiery, and scary as fuck mate. It’s been a month of constant stress because I never know what she’ll do next. I’m also not sure if I love or hate that she’s winning.
I slam my office door behind me, gripping the towel at my waist. I thought I won this morning after flicking Hazel’s cute little nose, but then I stepped out of the shower to find every damn drawer in my room sealed shut with my siren’s magic.
Every time I think I’ve found a way to pull us out of this game and into something real, Hazel reminds me how much she hates that we’re bonded.
I’d probably be more upset if this weren’t the only way she communicates with me. Most of the time, she acts like I don’t exist unless she’s making my life miserable.
I love her fire. Her spunk, her attitude… they’re my favorite things about her. I just hate that she uses them to keep me at arm’s length instead of letting me in on whatever crazy, messed-up shit goes on in her head.
I don’t know why she’s so scared to give us a real chance.
If you ask me, she’s the luckiest woman in the universe. I’m a fucking catch. I’m funny and cool. My face is perfectly symmetrical, and my smile is lethal... Fates, the list goes on.
Does any of that make my mate run into my arms and confess her undying love? Not even close.
The day she stepped into my home with her bags, she looked like Anxo had sent her to her execution. I couldn’t watch her squirm like that, so I gave her a separate room because, Fates forbid, I accidentally touch the killing machine. I’m pretty sure she’d stab me before I got close enough.
I know she’s not scared of me. Anyone with her strength wouldn’t be. But I think she’s scared of what this could be...what we could be.
But if she thinks her little pranks will keep me distracted forever, then she really doesn’t know me at all.
I waited decades to find my mate, and now that she’s here, under my roof, I’m not letting her slip away.
Khatri, my Warriorhead and close friend, knocks just as I finish buttoning my shirt.
He’s once again wearing a blazer that makes me look underdressed. No matter how many times I tell him to stop dressing like a bodyguard, he keeps showing up in dark, fitted suits.
The hard lines on his face relax as he watches me fish out a pair of socks from my desk drawer before walking to the floor-sized curtains where I hid an extra pair of shoes, not even trying to hide the mirth dancing in his eyes.
“What did she do now?”
“Sealed all my drawers shut,” I mutter.
He starts laughing, but quickly covers it with a cough when I glare at him.
Everyone in the fucking kingdom loves it when my mate makes a fool of me. I’ve been serving and protecting these ungrateful assholes for years, and not one of them is on my side. They’ve known me my whole life, yet they cheer for Hazel.
So what if I terrorized the elders by pulling pranks on them growing up? I was a kid. And I’m still their motherfucking king. But I won’t complain because it warms my heart when they choose my prickly mate over me.
“Coming to the training grounds? Nevaeh’s teaching Skye something new today.” Khatri doesn’t wait for an answer, already heading out.
When Nevaeh told me she wanted Khatri’s daughter as her future Warriorhead, I knew she’d made the right call. Khatri has been a loyal friend and confidant for more than a decade, and I’ve watched him instill those values in his daughter.
I can’t wait to see what it’s like when our daughters run the kingdom. It’s been proven throughout supernatural history that female leaders birth prosperous kingdoms.
I hurry after Khatri, rolling my sleeves to my elbows, exposing the markings gifted to me at my coronation by the Sisters of Fate. The black ink swirling across my skin is a reminder that the throne I sit on and the power I wield were only given to me after I had proved that I was worthy.
I’ve been the Horseman of Death for nearly two decades, and I still have to glare at people to stop bowing every time I step out of my castle.
Yes, it’s extremely awkward for me, but I hate it because it makes people vulnerable in a way I don’t want them to feel around me.
They shouldn’t have to prove their loyalty, so I won’t act like a tyrant and make their lives hard.
The kings before me might have reveled in that kind of submission, but it makes my skin crawl.
Khatri and I walk side by side until we reach a crowd of parents lurking outside the training field. Hazel doesn’t let them in because all they do is hover over their kids and throw around opinions on things they know nothing about.
That’s why the parents resort to climbing trees to watch their kids train, desperate to see if they have what it takes to become warriors and carry their family name higher.
I’m on my mate’s side when it comes to protecting our kids, so I clear my throat loud enough to announce my presence.
A hush falls around us before a demon who was barely balancing himself on a thin branch slips and lands flat on his back with a thud.
The others scramble before Hazel hears the commotion and comes to set them straight.
The demon at my feet groans, but the moment he notices my shadow, he springs up and runs, muttering apologies under his breath.
Khatri laughs before leaving me to find his daughter. I drop onto a wooden bench in the shade and lean back, watching the chaos from a distance.
I have a million things to do, and my Head Reaper will be ready to bite my head off the second I step into her office later, but every Wednesday, I carve out time to watch the kids duel and get a glimpse of the future we’re building.
I spot my mate first, and a smile immediately pulls at my lips. I know it annoys her when I grin at her like an idiot, but it’s not my fault. One look at her and I lose all my brain cells.
Earlier, I didn’t get a chance to notice what she was wearing because I was busy trying not to get stabbed, but maybe that was for the best. Hazel stands tall in a fitted black full-sleeve top and loose cargo pants, somehow looking even taller and leaner.
Fates, she’s perfect.
Hazel claps twice, and the kids immediately form a perfect circle around her. You’d expect a training session for teens to be a mess of wild kids running around, but every single one of those hellions is focused on my mate, watching with rapt attention.
Unlike with me, Hazel reins in her sass for the kids. She’s still a little mean and rolls her eyes every ten seconds, but there’s a softness to her, careful in the way she speaks to them.
It’s amazing to see her standing smack down in the middle of chaos and looking completely at home.
Every time I start to think I’ll never break through the walls around her heart, I come here and watch her teach these kids with so much patience, a serene expression on her face, and remember why it’s worth trying.
Hazel hides behind her sass, acts like nothing touches her, but here, surrounded by kids who worship the ground she walks on, the tension in her shoulders loosens, and she actually smiles.
I almost feel bad for the boy who loses and drops his sword, but my mate is already turning his disappointment into determination. She’s good at that.
Once Hazel talks him out of feeling sorry for himself, he looks at her like he’s waiting for something more. Hazel sighs like he just asked for a piece of her soul, and before I can lock the moment in my memory, she pats his head twice.
It’s awkward, but the kid looks at her like she hung the moon. Actually…, they look at her the same way.
I’ll admit I was suspicious about how the moody siren would fare with the kids when Anxo first mentioned it, but they love their grumpy trainer.
“Hey, stalker.”
As soon as I hear my daughter’s voice, I’m on my feet and pulling her into a hug. “There’s my precious little troublemaker.”
She pulls back, cupping my face. “You trimmed your beard!”
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t bully me into it.”
“I would never.” Nevaeh smiles innocently, but everyone knows it’s a lie. If I hadn’t watched her come into existence, I’d think she was a Lucifer with how much she loves raising hell. “But I’m glad you got rid of it. You looked like a wild bear.”
Suddenly, her smile falters, and my heart drops at the sight.
“You know, when I was a kid, it used to make me sad that I didn’t look like you.” She gives me a small smile. “All I wanted was to be your clone.”
Nevaeh pouts, her eyes turning glassy, and I almost lose it. Fuck if she starts crying, I won’t be able to hold back. Lately, it feels like all I’ve done since getting her is fight the urge to break down every time I look at her.
I pull her into another hug, pressing a kiss to her head. “Sorry if the extremely dangerous and unpredictable process of making a baby from stolen Divine didn’t go exactly as planned.”
I finally pull a laugh out of her, and the knot in my stomach loosens.
“And if you heard how worried the elders were when you set fire to our kitchen, you wouldn’t think that.”
“I was trying to make breakfast for you!”
“Doofus.”
“Hey, you made me. It’s your fault I’m not entirely right in the head.” She pulls away, but not before I catch the teasing glint in her eyes.
The story of how Nevaeh came into existence is well-known and heavily debated across the supernatural world.
When the Archangel of Love told me the sisters of fate hadn’t given me a mate, I was furious. Even as a kid, all I wanted was a mate and a family of my own. Hearing I’d never have that broke something inside me.
Elijah Lucifer, the King of Hell and my closest friend, helped me break into Heaven and steal a piece of Divine that’s heavily guarded by Angels. It’s the source of all life, the core of every supernatural being, the power that fuels us.
I was seventeen, heartbroken by the very being I’d prayed to, so when I held that Divine in my hand, I used it for the only thing that mattered. Family.
Holding my daughter for the first time, created from my own blood and Divine, breathed a new life into me.
I don’t regret it. Not even after the Tetrad kingdom and Hell went to war with Heaven, so I could keep my daughter.
But my happiness didn’t last long.
Nevaeh was only nine when she was taken right out from under my nose by people I trusted. That nightmare haunted me for a decade until she escaped her prison last year, and Anxo found her and brought her home.
I still hate that I wasn’t here when she came home, too busy drowning in my own guilt and pain. After years of searching, I’d almost given up. I spent the last three years stumbling through purgatory, desperate for anything to distract me from how badly I’d failed to protect my daughter.
I didn’t expect to make it out alive. I fought every second to stay alive, but part of me hoped someone would end it and put me out of my misery.
It was pure luck that I heard about the Tetrad kingdom going to war and came back out of obligation. But seeing my daughter standing in front of me was the best day of my life.
It’s been a month since I returned, and having Nevaeh here still feels like a fever dream. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve woken up in the middle of the night and run to the Horseman castle to check on her.
The fear of losing her again eats me during the day, but the nights are worse. I don’t even live in the same home as my little girl anymore. I know she’s grown into a strong woman, and Anxo would cut down anyone who came near his mate, but I can’t shake the need to make sure she’s safe.
I already failed once.
The scars covering my daughter’s skin are a reminder that I can’t let that happen again. As long as I’m alive, I’ll hover over my daughters like a helicopter parent, and I don’t care if they think I’m being overprotective.
Khatri calls out to Nevaeh, pacing the grounds as he watches his daughter warm up.
“He’s been climbing the walls since he found out you’d be training Skye.”
Nevaeh laughs beside me, checking if her braids are still secure. I know Anxo learns new ways to braid Nevaeh’s hair, but he really outdid himself today. The small yellow flowers woven into the braids make her look so sweet and angelic, even when she swears like me.
“I probably shouldn’t have told him I want Skye as my Warriorhead. The poor man is stuck between being excited for me and terrified for his daughter.”
Before she can leave, I catch her arm. “Be careful. Don’t get hurt.”
She rolls her eyes, something all the women in my life seem to be doing lately.
“I’m always careful.”
No, she’s not. Nevaeh is the clumsiest person I know. I’ve never met a supernatural being with zero hand-eye coordination. On a battlefield, she’s lethal, but outside it, she trips over nothing like a toddler who just learned to walk.
She walked into my desk yesterday and had a bruise the size of my hand on her hip for a full nine minutes before her Divine healed it. I dragged her to the healer and didn’t care if they both thought I was being too cautious.
I count to ten and force myself to breathe as Nevaeh steps onto the training field. I never knew being a girl dad would be this terrifying.