He died not knowing he had a daughter who loves him fiercely.
And I know that I shouldn’t mourn something that has never been real—after all, the ‘memories’ of my childhood are nothing but an illusion Rebecca somehow found a way to create—but it still spears me with its intensity.
A pulsing pain throbs in my skull, and my heart aches as if someone is squeezing the life from it in their fist. Tears spill out of my eyes and down my cheeks before I can stop them. I try to cry silently, but a gasp slips out unbidden. An intense, agonizing pain whips through me. It sucks the air straight from my lungs and makes breathing virtually impossible. I want nothing more than to curl into a ball and have my men comfort me, but I know I can’t.
Biological brothers or not, Colton, Henry, and Ray need me.
Getting a handle on my turbulent emotions, I once more trace my fingers over the edge of the blade in my pocket. Each press of the metal against my overheated skin serves to calm me down a fraction until I feel relatively normal.
Maybe normal isn’t the correct term. I’ll never be normal again after this. But for now, I’m numb, and that’s the best any of us can hope for.
I slip out of the room, listening intently for any wayward noise. It doesn’t sound as if anyone is even breathing, but I refuse to succumb to the panic brewing inside of me, threatening to escape.
Methodically, I check each bedroom, ensuring that they’re empty. My brothers and Rebecca are nowhere to be found.
When I reach the stairs, my footsteps are quieter, gliding across the wood without so much as a peep.
My heart races, each consecutive thump threatening to be my last, but I work to control my breathing.
Count backwards from ten. Ten. Nine. Eight.
I reach the landing and throw my body flush against one of the two pillars present there.
Seven. Six. Five.
Crashing to my left, in the kitchen, captures my attention, and it’s there I go, holding the knife at the ready.
Four. Three. Two. One.
I jump around the corner and slam the tip of my blade into Rebecca’s pasty neck. She freezes, eyes widening in alarm, as I glare at her with all the hatred and betrayal I can muster.
“Don’t fucking move,” I hiss, baring my teeth at her. The shock splayed across her face turns into surprise and then into excitement. The cocktail of emotions both confuse and terrify me.
“Em?” Her voice wobbles slightly. “Fuck, I’m so happy to see you!” Ignoring the blade still centimeters from her neck, she throws herself into my arms, sobbing. Instinctively, I drop the knife to my side before I regain my senses and shove her off of me.
“I’m going to kill you!” I rage as her eyes once more widen imperceptibly. She looks exactly as I remember her—pert nose, elfin features, wide, circular eyes, and mousy brown hair. Fear dances in her eyes as she takes an automatic step back.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” she whispers. “When I got my memories back on the blood moon…” She trails off, forking her fingers through her hair. “Who did this to us? What the fuck is going on?”
“What?” I brandish the knife, eyeing her with barely veiled distaste. Does she really believe I’m that stupid? That her innocent act will work on me? “Don’t play fucking dumb.”
“I got a text from the guys,” Rebecca continues, swallowing, “and I came right away.”
My head spins like a tilt-a-whirl at an amusement park.
“Rebecca, what do you—”
Before I can finish my question, a third figure sidles up behind Rebecca and places a knife to her throat. She whimpers, thrashing, but the grip on her only tightens.
Behind her, Athena smiles cruelly.
“Let’s have a chat, shall we?”
CHAPTER 27
Do you have that one person you hate above anyone else? That one soul you would like to see burning in hell’s bowels while you pee on their grave?
That’s Athena for me.
I wouldn’t be able to tell you when, or even how, our rivalry began, only that it’s still present to this day.
My hands are tied behind my back around the wooden kitchen chair, and my ankles are securely fastened to the legs of the chair. Athena gloats victoriously as she tightens the rope around my wrists.
“I’ve waited too fucking long for this,” she muses, releasing a devilish, tinkling laugh.
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca whispers. “I’m so sorry.” She begins to cry in earnest, fat, sloppy tears that cascade down her cheeks and into the column of her throat. She hasn’t stopped apologizing since we were captured by that bitch, Athena. Well, since she was captured, and Athena offered to spare her life if I willingly turned myself in.
I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but one thing is clear—Rebecca is just as much a victim in all of this as I am.
Tied to the chair next to me, she drops her chin to her chest as her body shakes with sobs. At first, I think she’s crying because she’s scared, but when she lifts her head, I see a steely determination that’s been absent in all the centuries I’ve known her.
“If you hurt my men, so help me, I’ll kill you!” Her voice is capable of freezing lava. Those tear-stained eyes of her glisten with an almost elemental fury.
Athena releases another high-pitched laugh as she moves to stand in front of me.
“Those men you both care about? Henry, Ray, and Colton? They’re fine…for now.” Almost absently, she slides my knife between her pointer finger and thumb, and I can’t help but wish that she accidentally cuts herself and bleeds to death. A girl can only dream.
There’s no denying that Athena is a beautiful goddess. If you were to see her on the street, you would instantly
