Chapter 2 #2
“You’re just like your mother.” Iris sighs, shaking her head as she grabs a decorative skull from the side table and begins petting it absentmindedly like it’s a cat. “We are not a cult. No matching robes, no Kool-Aid, and certainly no chanting, unless you count the seasonal full moon potlucks.”
She sets the skull back down—like she only now realizes she picked it up to begin with—and straightens.
“The Hollowborn run the manors. Safe havens for all the supernatural beings who can’t live openly.
We protect, we help heal, we host, and we keep their existence a secret from the rest of the world.
That’s what NightShade is. That’s what your mother was meant to inherit. And now, it’s going to be yours.”
“That’s not happening,” I mutter, hugging Archie closer like he’s a teddy bear and not a geriatric ferret.
“I know you think that’s not what your mother wanted, but Jocelyn walked away from all this before allowing me the opportunity to explain the consequences of her actions.
She was so desperate for what she considered normal, for love, and her own version of safety,” her eyes soften again, “and for you, that she didn’t take the time to understand the bigger picture.
She refused to listen, but I hope you at least will. ”
If Iris isn’t careful, she’s about to see just how unlike my mother I can be. While Mom never raised her voice at me, I have one hell of a temper I’m not afraid to unleash.
“If any of this is even remotely true, why would she hide it from me? Especially when she was dying. Mom wouldn’t have left me to deal with this alone. Not without preparing me first.”
As I ask the questions, my heart twists with doubts.
Mom, you wouldn’t have left me unprepared, right?
“Because the truth, Rowan, it’s dangerous.” Iris holds a hand toward me, but I don’t take it. “I believe Jocelyn thought she had succeeded in protecting you from this life. That there was no reason to tell you because she’d changed destiny for both of you. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.”
Before I can even ask what the hell that means, I feel something—a strange tug deep in my chest. Like someone grabbed an invisible thread, wound it around my heart, and yanked. My breath hitches. Heat flushes the back of my neck.
My head turns instinctively toward the window.
There’s something out there.
No—someone.
And they’re coming closer.
“Iris…” My voice shakes in a way it hasn’t since my mother’s funeral. “What is happening?”
She’s already on her feet, pulling a crossbow from beneath the chair as if it’s the most natural reaction to my question. She holds it up, fully prepared and clearly trained to use it, making my brain short-circuit while I try to process it all.
What in the actual hell?
Muttering several colorful curses under her breath, she loads a silver-tipped arrow with the precision of someone who’s definitely done this before. “Rowan, leave this room. Find Liz. Get—”
I flinch as a deeper noise distracts us both.
The air shifts, heavy and electric. Like a storm crouching low in the sky. Archie twitches in my arms—and that’s when the growl starts. Not from me. Not from Iris. From the freaking walls.
Iris takes a step toward the balcony door, eyes laser-focused.
This must be a cosmic joke. I’m not about to be protected by a grandma in a flannel robe and fuzzy slippers, wielding a crossbow like she’s the star of some geriatric action movie. Nope. Not today.
I start to make my way out of the room as I’ve been commanded, but before I get there, the window behind us shatters inward.
Glass rains down, catching the dim light as it scatters across the floor.
The curtains whip back in a gust of air, revealing the silhouette of a man who moves like a storm that’s taken shape.
He crashes through the opening in a blur of shadows—shirt torn at the collar, boots slamming into the hardwood with a solid, terrifying thud.
I scream. Loudly. As one does when a human battering ram breaks into the room in the middle of an emotional breakdown.
He straightens slowly, and it’s clear this guy wasn’t built for subtlety. He’s tall, broad, and radiating tension. His eyes glow a molten gold—wild and intelligent all at once—as they lock on me.
“Who the hell—” I start, but the words fall away.
Because he freezes, and so do I.
Whatever feral energy he came in with evaporates the instant our gazes meet. His chest heaves with a sharp inhale, like I’m the fresh air he’s spent a lifetime scouring for. His mouth opens slightly, like he wants to speak, but he’s forgotten every word he’s ever known.
And me? I’m rooted to the spot. Because somehow, and impossibly so, I know him.
No, not me exactly, but something inside me does.
The presence in my mind stirs again, but she doesn’t cry out this time.
She hums. A low, eager sound that vibrates through my chest like a tuning fork struck by fate.
Hope. Desire. Heat. It surges through my veins in a way that makes me want to crawl out of my own skin just to feel closer to whatever this is.
Holy shit, was Iris actually telling the truth?
“You didn’t make a reservation, Cade.” Iris’s voice cuts through my life-alerting crisis like a dagger. Most noticeably, she doesn’t lower her crossbow even though she calls him by name. “I think it’s time you leave.”
Still, he pays her no attention.
“Mine.” The word is raw, claimed with reverence. His eyes never leave me.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Iris sighs, stepping between us with a quickness I wouldn’t have believed if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. “Rowan doesn’t understand this world yet. Give me an hour—just one damn hour to explain—”
His roar erupts like a thunderclap, shaking the floor beneath us. “What did you do, Iris?” he snarls. “The prophecy—”
“You don’t think I realize that, furball?
” Iris’s eyes blaze as she squares off with the hulking man like it’s just another Tuesday.
“She’s my granddaughter, and I’ll protect her with everything I have left.
Even from you. Prophecies and death threats be damned.
Now get the hell out before you break every law we have. ”
“I don’t give a damn about our laws.” His voice is pure gravel, laced with something aching. “They’ve never served me.”
“This arrow’s about to serve you,” Iris spits back, her aim steady. “So, unless you want to be a twitching, paralyzed mess for the rest of the evening, I’d suggest you back off.”
Cade doesn’t move—he doesn’t even blink. He just stares at me, and I stare right back, completely unsure what’s holding me captive more—his glowing gaze or the heat spiraling in my gut.
There’s something between us. Something possibly terrifying.
And yet, for the first time since I woke up, I don’t want to be afraid.
Even if I still have no idea what the hell is going on or what’s real right now.