Chapter 54
NORTH STAR
Poppy
“How are you feeling, mon amour?”
“I don’t know.” I fist the skirt of my black lace yukata, my palms sweaty. “It feels weird to be celebrating something as mundane as my birthday right now. Leviathan is still out there, waiting to make their next move.”
Bronte bobs his head in consideration as we drift into the lot at Beelzebub’s. “Haven’t we earned the right to take a night off from worrying about what lurks around every dark corner?”
“I guess.” We’re not even inside yet, and I already want to return to the manor. This place was once my home, my haven. Now, it feels almost foreign. Like an old friend I haven’t seen in so long, there’s no familiarity left to find comfort in. “Let’s just get this over with.”
I grab the door handle, but the locks click into place.
A gun’s muzzle skirts my jaw. Hot breath brushes the shell of my ear as Bronte growls, “Did I say you could leave?”
My core throbs in response, desire licking at my veins. “There is such a thing as wrong place and time, mon ange.”
“Relax.” He ghosts the Kimber over my cheek and through my hair as I turn to face his mischievous grin. “Give me your vape.”
I paw through my purse until I find the abysmally low pen. “Bax is cooking up the new batch for me, so this is it for now.”
“We’ll just have to share it, then.”
Bronte takes the vape and hits it, draining the blue juice down to the dregs. I gape, caught between admiration and agitation.
“Greedy pr—”
He grabs my nape and latches onto my mouth with his, breathing cotton candy smoke into my lungs. I drink it down, cherishing every last vapor.
How is he this sexy without even trying?
Licking my tongue, he seals my lips with a mind-altering kiss. “Better?”
Serenity seeps into my nerves, and I lean my brow against his with a long sigh. “Better.”
“Magnifique. Come on, let’s get moving now that you’ve made us late.”
Chuckling at my scoff, Bronte grabs my door and walks arm-in-arm with me into the café.
I clutch his sleeve as we head to the corner space by the coffee bar.
My friends’ bright smiles greet me, and I’m passed from Bronte to Emi with a squirming Hades, then Cas and Circe and Bax, Dr. V, Dante, and finally, Nikolai.
“Happy birthday, printsessa,” Nik murmurs as he hugs me close. “You look radiant as ever.”
I tsk. “Don’t compliment me.”
“Too weird?”
“Too dangerous.” I hike a thumb over my shoulder at Bronte, whose fists are clenched in his lap as he pays half his attention to the others while watching us. “Guard dog, remember?”
Nik peels back with a smirk. “I’m not that threatening, am I?”
I snicker, shaking my head and sobering as his grin softens. “Thank you for being here tonight. It’s a nice change of pace to see you outside a life-or-death situation.”
“Didn’t have a choice, really.”
“Ah.” My gaze briefly flits to Circe, who’s also watching us. “Were you dragged here by the balls?”
He shrugs, lashes downturned. “Something like that.”
“We’ve been through hell and back, haven’t we? Could you look at me while I’m talking to you?”
His eyes anchor to mine, their gunmetal depths unreadable as I take his hand and hold it between my palms.
“A year ago, I wouldn’t have ever guessed I’d be friends with you. But I also never would’ve guessed the thousand other things that have happened since then.” I swallow thickly, suddenly battling an onslaught of emotion. “Thank you for helping them save me and my parents, Nik.”
His lashes grow wet. The tears are gone in a blink, but it’s enough to make my nose sting. “What are friends for?”
I squeeze his hand. “Let’s catch up soon, hai?”
“Da. I’d like that.”
I turn to join Bronte, but he’s occupied with Jezebel.
Who should be back at the manor.
With my parents.
“Ota ome, darling.”
Mama hugs me before I can register she’s there, pecking me on each cheek. She’s as lustrous as stardust in her white lace kimono. Her smile is more dazzling than I remember ever seeing.
I squint. Why the hell is she in such a good mood?
Better question: Why is she here?
I don’t remember the last time I celebrated a birthday with my parents.
Papa steps out from behind her. I’m convinced my heart is going to explode the moment his wintry gaze freezes me to the spot. “Poppy.”
“Papa.”
“A word?” He gestures to the kitchen, where Kahula is belting out a Halsey song playing over the speakers. “In private.”
I lead the way, casting a final glance over my shoulder. Mama spares me a nod as she lingers by Bronte, chatting low. The motion seems to say: Now is your chance.
My purse grows heavier than gravity.
I shoo Kahula from the kitchen and pivot toward Papa. “Um, what’s up?”
By the fucking stars. Did my voice just squeak?
“Your mother suggested there was something you wished to speak about but weren’t entirely comfortable sharing at home.”
So much for when you’re ready…
Dread spears my guts and sweat pebbles my brow as fear twists my insides into noxious knots.
I’m still not ready.
“Poppy.” His tone is brisk. “Speak.”
Trembling, I dig through my purse for the black candle that’s been in my hands so much, the name carved into the wax has nearly rubbed off. I grab a match from a nearby drawer and tip the wick into the flame.
“I have no intention of continuing your legacy,” I declare, my heart threatening to break my sternum. “I am starting my own chapter. Please understand that, for my health, I cannot go on living this life of—”
“Enough.”
“—depravity. I am sorry for not saying any of this sooner, but you must know that I’ve taken the time to—”
“I don’t need to hear this.”
“—think about my decision, and this is it. I don’t want to inherit your life, your crimes, your crown. If I do, I don’t know how much longer I’ll live before I die at the hands of another. Or my own.”
“Poppy—”
“Daisuki da yo.” My voice wobbles, and my throat refuses to work.
I bow my neck until my hair forms a protective veil around me.
“Please don’t hate me for choosing myself.
I still wish to be a part of your life. I need you to know how much you mean to me, Papa.
Because even after everything you put me through, you’re still my North Star. ”
Despair rattles my breath. Tears stream down my cheeks.
There’s nothing left for me to do but stand here and wait for him to disown me.
Most normal people wouldn’t give a shit what he does next. My father robbed me of a childhood and stole my dreams. But he also taught me how to be a warrior and a diplomat. He taught me how to rule on my feet rather than let the world throw me onto my back and make me its slave.
Alexander Morgenstern is many things. First and foremost, he’s the man who raised me.
The candle leaves my grip, and my shoulders shake.
“Poppyseed,” Papa murmurs, his scent of parchment and coffee shrouding me in a nostalgic embrace. “Look at me, baby girl.”
I do, lifting my damp lashes to see devastation and sorrow warring across his features. He thumbs the tears away like he used to when I was too small to hold a knife and paint the world in red.
“Your mother and I are leaving, dearest daughter.”
A beat passes as my upended mind attempts to comprehend his meaning. “What?”
Papa’s mouth forms a grim line as he plucks stray strands of hair sticking to my lips.
“These months reminded me of how far we’ve strayed from our original purpose.
Atop the misalignment, there is a target on our backs.
Your mama and I have discussed at great length what to do and how much to involve you in our plans.
We want to protect you, but we've learned our limits. If anything, you have a greater chance of survival in the company of those you've surrounded yourself with here. So, we’ve decided to leave the city and travel for a while. We have a local property to return to during the months we come home, but the manor is yours.”
“I-I don’t understand. You’re…quitting?”
“Retiring,” he corrects gently. “Never will you hear me say these words again, but Leviathan may have done us a favor in burning our family tree. This is your opportunity to follow whatever your dreams are now. If you wish to let this empire die, let it die. If you want to make it your own, then do so. You have no competition for the throne. You answer to no one. You have an entirely clean slate. You know what to do to get started if that’s what you wish.
If you need anything at any time, you have me and your mother in your pocket. Do with the keys what you will.”
He pauses for me to say something, but speaking is physically impossible.
“I love you, Poppy. I never say it enough, I know that. I forgot how to be your father over the years, but I’m willing to give it another shot. No matter where you go or what you decide from here, remember that we are always under the same stars.”
The love in his words…it feels like a splash of color onto life’s gray palette. Sobs wrack my chest. The sound of my heart snapping free builds and builds as a roar, only to escape as a broken whimper.
In an instant, I’m clinging to him like a child and soaking the shoulder of his suit with the tears of my bleeding heart. He holds me close, rocking me gently and kissing my temple.
Like he used to when I was too young to take a life.