1. Hettie
Chapter 1
Hettie
I shouldn’t be here.
When I left my house this morning, kissing my mother and my younger sister goodbye, I promised I’d be home for dinner. My mom smiled, though she wore it like a mask. Call it mom’s intuition, but I think she knew something was different. Like maybe I wouldn’t be coming home this time.
She was right, of course.
“How’re you doing back there, honey?” Sister Tammy croons, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of whatever Phil Collins song she’s listening to.
“I’m fine.” I don’t mean for my answer to be curt, but I fear if I say more, the tears I’ve been holding back since this morning will finally spill over.
Crying will not change my mistakes. It also won’t take me back to my family. And it definitely won’t bring back my father. I’m not even certain I deserve to cry after everything I put them through.
Like I said, I shouldn’t be here, but there’s no other option. If there were, I wouldn’t be making a deal with The Guardian. We learn at a young age in Grym Hollow that only deeply troubled people seek him out.
I guess that’s me. Deeply troubled.
“You know, this is the second person this month I’m taking to The Guardian. Rose Briar was in your place not too long ago. Remember Rose? The poor girl whose fiancé cheated on her with her own sister. Her sister is doing great, by the way. Really enjoying the mom life. But I will say, you young ladies are very brave. Mind if I say a prayer for you?” Sister Tammy launches into a prayer before I can even respond.
Her words are easy to ignore, especially since this isn’t the first time I’ve been the focus of an impromptu prayer from Sister Tammy. She’s Grym Hollow’s resident nun by day and our taxi service by night. No one in town questions it, so I don’t either.
A soft whimper catches my attention, and I look down at the golden retriever at my feet. Grass stares up at me as if asking, “Are we really doing this?”
Part of me feels guilty for dragging Grass into my mess, but a selfish part of me is thrilled that he jumped into Sister Tammy’s car and refused to budge. He’s the one connection to my home and to my father I’ll have left.. Grass was his dog, and since my father’s passing, the dog has taken more interest in me.
Grym Hollow passes in a blur of old, historical buildings dating back to the town founders. The light from the city dims, and soon trees with orange leaves and streetlamps surround us. The chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot from an owl replace the chatter and music of the city.
Sister Tammy turns down her radio and straightens in her seat. Her old sedan comes to a slow roll, but I can’t help noticing her grip tightens on the steering wheel, turning her knuckles white.
“There’s no convincing you to stay in the car and come back to Grym Hollow? It’s the safest place in America, you know. The Guardian can protect you here with his magic. Don’t gotta run off. I’m sure your mother and little sister would prefer you with them. Isn’t Clarissa’s birthday coming up?” Sister Tammy drives the invisible knife deeper into my heart, immobilizing me.
For one second, I allow myself to think about what my life would be like if I stayed. The nights I would spend bouncing between men just to feel an ounce of thrill. Constantly chasing a high that did nothing but hurt my family. Ending up in holding cells until my mom and sister scrounge up enough money to bail me out, knowing this wouldn’t be the last time. Knowing every cent should go to my late dad’s medical bills.
I wasn’t always like this. My father’s death affected me more than I cared to admit, and instead of unleashing the pain in a healthy, less destructive way, I did everything and anything I could to run away from it.
I’m so tired of seeing my sister’s red-rimmed eyes each time they bail me out. How she hugs me like she might never get the chance to do it again.
I’m tired of listening to my mother cry herself to sleep at night, missing the husband who should have never died. He died because of the stress I constantly put on my family. His heart couldn’t take it anymore.
I’m also tired of being the town fuck-up. At least this way, something good will come out of the many mistakes I’ve made, and maybe my mom will have enough money to give my sister the life—and birthday—she deserves.
With the last few dollars I had, I left my sister a necklace. Not the fancy one she has been eyeing, but still a pretty one. A locket with a picture of us from a Christmas party years ago. It’s the last thing I was able to do for her, and I hope she understands why I had to leave.
“This is far enough, thank you.” I ignore her question and wait until the sedan comes to a complete stop before opening the door. Grass doesn’t wait for me to get out. Instead, he uses me as his springboard to jump out of the car and assess the area.
“That’s a good dog you got there. I see why you brought him. Must be your guardian angel or something.” Sister Tammy laughs, but it seems forced. She’s itching to get out of here, just as much as I’m ready to get this over with and start my new life.
“Or something.” I finally get out of the car. The moment I close the door, Sister Tammy floors it and peels out of the gravel driveway, leaving Grass and me behind.
The Guardian’s house is only a small walk up the hill, which allows me some time to mentally prepare to come face-to-face with him again. I’ve only seen The Guardian once after seeking him out. He’s not human, at least not entirely. His skin is an ashy gray, and he has horns protruding from his forehead. He stands a foot taller than a normal man, with muscles that seem carved from stone.
Intimidating is an understatement. The Guardian is completely nightmarish in his solitude and nonhuman-like appearance. And yet, he watches over this town as if he owes us a life debt.
I don’t know how he got here, where he came from, or why he is here, and, frankly, I don’t care as long as he can help me. I’ve never claimed to be a good woman, but this is one thing I can do unselfishly for my family.
Next to me, Grass barks, drawing my attention. At first, I don’t see what alerts him. He crouches defensively and growls low, warning me of the dangers ahead. There’s only one reason my dog would act like this.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, a house comes into view. It’s nestled between trees, looking out of place in the rather desolate area. The house is a small cottage with a low-pitched gable roof. A covered patio encircles the front of the house, decorated with plants and a cozy seating area.
It’s so ordinary, I almost think I’m in the wrong place. There’s nothing threatening or life-changing about the house. Yet I can’t help but feel that the moment I step inside, my entire world will change.
Probably because it will, dumbass, I think to myself. Am I doing the right thing? Is my family truly better off without me? Yes. The answer is yes.
That sober thought has me gathering the courage to walk up to the fairytale-looking cottage. Grass whines next to me, and I lean down to pet his head. “It’ll be okay.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to reassure.
Before I can change my mind, I force myself to knock on the yellow door. I don’t have time to gather myself before it swings open. On instinct, both Grass and I take a step back, but that doesn’t seem to deter The Guardian.
The man before me is dressed in tailored black slacks and a white button-up shirt. He left the top few unbuttoned, exposing the gray, muscular skin underneath. He shouldn’t be attractive because he’s not human, and yet, there’s something hauntingly beautiful about him. A melancholy kind of beauty.
A certain sadness surrounds him, lurking just underneath the surface. He gives me a pleasant nod, but his eyes look past me as if looking for something—or someone—else .
“Good evening, Ms. Ortega. Blanchette, is it?” He steps out of his house. I peer past him, trying to catch a glimpse inside, but the door closes before I can get a proper look.
“I go by Hettie.” Blanchette is a family name—one I despise and got ruthlessly bullied for in junior high. Hettie fits me better, though my family still insists on calling me Blanchette.
I suppose that will not be a problem anymore.
“Hettie, then,” he says in a way that tells me he’ll never use my preferred name. “Ms. Ortega, do you have the contract I gave you?”
I’ve only double-checked a thousand times before leaving my house that I have it with me. I spent hours combing through every single detail of the contract, so I know what I’m getting into. I may be reckless, but I’m not stupid.
I dig out the crumpled contract from my bag, handing it over. “I made one change. Grass is coming with me. That’s nonnegotiable. I know it says I’ll enter alone, or whatever, but I’m not leaving without Grass.”
I sound more confident than I feel. I have nothing to barter with him. The Guardian isn’t foolish. He knows this too, and yet he nods once, and that’s all the confirmation I need. My body sags in relief because, despite the new trajectory of my life, at least I’ll have Grass.
“Very well. Besides that, do you have any questions or concerns?” The Guardian asks.
Any sane person would, but I think I’ve established I’m far from sane. Especially agreeing to something so outlandish and reckless. Who in their right mind would willingly agree to be swept away from the world they know, only to end up in a completely different time and place, about to marry their king ?
Someone who is finally doing right by their family.
Someone like me.
I never pictured myself settling down. Not when my life is in constant motion, and stopping leaves me to deal with emotions I’d much rather keep buried. If not, the hurt, embarrassment, and pity would snake their way in, pulling me down until I can’t find my way out of the black hole I created.
I’m not thrilled about marrying a stranger—let alone anyone—but the way I see it, this is a mutually beneficial business deal. I get the assurance that my family will be free of my baggage and cared for, and my future husband gets whatever The Guardian promised him.
Still, I’ve been burned one too many times to fully trust this stranger. “My family will be taken care of? Just as you have listed out in the document?”
“Just as I have listed out. They will receive the financial assistance and resources they need to either improve their home or upgrade if they choose. Your rather extensive list of misdemeanors will no longer be an issue, and your family will no longer be responsible for those fees. Your father’s medical bills will be paid in full as well,” The Guardian explains. He reminds me of a doctor explaining their patient’s prognosis, knowing they’d have to do this again right after.
I don’t care how he speaks to me as long as he delivers what we agreed upon.
“How will I know you actually did your part?”
He sighs, but soon his mask of indifference is back in place. “Because, Ms. Ortega, this contract magically binds the signers to their word. Just as you can never leave Mescos, I’ll not have peace until my end of the bargain is complete. I’m quite fond of my peace and am unwilling to give that up.”
I pause, my body stiffening. I’ve read the damn contract over and over again and know there’s no coming back. I’ve accepted it, but I still mourn the life I’m leaving. It’s strange—perhaps even na?ve—to believe him, but something about him makes me feel like I can trust him. Maybe it’s his name. The Guardian. He wouldn’t have that name if he wasn’t in the business of protecting people…would he?
I’m also so damn tired of being lied to, I want to believe there are still good people in this world.
“Okay,” I finally say, and my acquiescence is enough to get The Guardian walking to the back of his house. I take it as my sign to follow and have to jog to keep up with his long strides. He doesn’t slow his pace for me, but he looks over his shoulder to make sure I’m not far away. Grass stays close to me, matching my speed.
“Mescos will be your new home?—”
“Yeah, you keep saying that. What is Mescos exactly?” I interrupt, never one to let a question go unasked.
“Another realm. Quite different from this one. Your home will be in the Lycan Forest.” The Guardian gives me no further explanation than this. Questions burn on the tip of my tongue, and I nearly ask them, until he stops so suddenly, I almost plow right through him.
At first, nothing remarkable stands out. Small rocks are laid out in a large circle before us. In the center is an archway made of stone; moss and vines cover the pedestals. The Guardian touches the arch, and slowly, a shimmer appears. A creamy-white layer that looks like satin covers the opening of the archway.
“What the fuck is that?”
If the Guardian is upset by my vulgarity, he doesn’t show it. Instead, the giant of a man takes my hand. His grip is surprisingly gentle, and his hands are soft against my own.
“This, Ms. Ortega, is the portal we will use to get to your new home.” He starts moving forward. Whether of my own volition or because he’s pulling me, I move with him, tugging on Grass’s collar so he stays close. “No more dallying. Your alpha is waiting.”
My…what?
Before I have the chance to process The Guardian’s words, we step through the shimmering veil, and the world around me is no more.