“No need to make that face.” Irene’s tone is gently reproachful. “She was very happy to become your mother, Eva.” More pictures slide into my field of view. Smiling lips pressed to a baby-fat cheek. A tiny infant foot, much smaller than her palm. A candid, breastfeeding. Sitting in a meadow. Smiling up at the camera while a toddler fists the stem of a columbine.
I see the splotch of tears on the mahogany before I even realize I’m crying.
“She was very good with numbers. So are you, I am told. And she loved the ocean. Even though she had little access to it.”
I look up, unsure of how to deal with all of these— these feelings. Irene, though, seems genuinely sympathetic.
“She also kept a diary where she logged all your milestones. First step, first word, favorite foods. I believe it was destroyed, because I couldn’t locate it. We had to be very careful with our records— the downside of being constantly ostracized and persecuted. It was a wise choice, since the Northwest’s inability to know the full extent of our ranks is the only reason we were able to rebuild. But I can tell you that she adored you. And you adored her back. You were such a little angel. Very well behaved.”
I try to swallow a sob. Fail. This is ugly. Shoulder-shaking, tear-slick, full-bodied crying. For a woman I’ve never even met. What do I care about the tragedy of her life? And why, when Irene covers my hand with hers, do I allow it?
“You may not have any memories of the Favored. But you must recall what it was like, being alone. Away from your people. I can assure you, Fiona didn’t let go of you. You were taken from us when the Northwest decided to hunt us down, snuff us out— ”
“Why did they do that?” I snatch back my arm. Curl it into my lap. Allow myself one last sniffle before I confront her. “What was the reason?”
“You are too young to remember— ”
“But I’ve been told. Is it a lie that Constantine targeted the Northwest leadership and killed thousands?”
Her mouth curves in a displeased line. “Did they tell you why? Did they explain that Constantine won the challenge against their Alpha, but the Northwest refused to allow him to step into the role that was his right?”
I lean forward. “And what about Koen’s father, Irene? Did you not use him to lure Koen’s mother?”
“Koen Alexander is an illegitimate leader.” Her dark gaze sharpens. “Your father . . . he may have used the Alpha’s mate to draw her to himself. But after, he won fair and square.”
“That’s not how the challenge works.”
“And who decides that? Who establishes the rules? The Alpha. The pack. The system was rigged in their favor— but Constantine outwitted them. He should have been the leader of the Northwest, not hunted down like a beast, forced to hide in more and more remote locations, and then killed in cold blood.” She closes her eyes. Collects herself. “I struggle to understand why you do not see that Koen is your enemy. But maybe it’s your approaching Heat talking.”
I recoil. “How do you know about that?”
“Oh, dear. Jess has been good to us. Very helpful indeed. She was one of the Favored, did you know that? They slaughtered her parents and gave her to a Were family. But unlike yours, her memories remained. She gained access to your clinical file and told us that you lost the ability to shift. She delivered the necklace. And, of course, she let us know about your Heat.” The line of Irene’s mouth softens. “You are very close, I hear.”
Fuck this. “I want to go back.”
“Ah, yes. That injection. You know, there’s no need. We have a handful of Weres who’ll be happy to service you. You may choose whoever you prefer among them. And who knows, there might even be a baby from this Heat. Constantine’s heir. He has performed bigger miracles than that. After all, we’re close to the anniversary of his birth.”
“I think I . . .” Just threw up a little in my mouth. “It’s a pass for me. I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t. Heats in human form are dreadful. I must say, I was surprised to hear that the current Alpha was willing to allow you to avoid yours. But then again . . .” She sighs. “Koen Alexander was always unpredictable. We could never take him by surprise. Before you arrived, that is. We are very grateful to you, for making him a little more like his mother. And his mother, we were able to deal with.”
I clench my teeth. “If you’re thinking of using me to trap him, he won’t come. He’s smarter than that. He has spent his entire life aware of how you ruined his family, and— ”
“Eva. There is no smart when it comes to falling in love. Haven’t you learned that?”
“Koen’s priority is the pack. He won’t jeopardize it.”
“We’ll see.” The tilt of Irene’s head gives me goose bumps. “You should ask him when he arrives. He won’t be long, dear. But you’ll have all the time you need.”
“Time for what?” I hiss.
“To read your mother’s last letter.”
CHAPTER 29
He is afraid— not only of what might happen to her, but also of what he might do to the world in retaliation.
AS AWARE AS I AM OF IRENE’S MANEUVERS TO KEEP ME IN THE asscrack of nowhere, I still allow it, and I can’t help wondering why. It’d be a good case study. An interesting dive into hybrid behavior. Unfortunately, my temperature is climbing, and I’m starting to feel too shitty to ponder the wonders of the halfling mind.
“You should drink,” Nele tells me, holding out a glass. She’s the youngest of the women I spotted downstairs. When I returned to my room, Irene instructed her to follow me. I assumed she’d be my designated jailer, but Nele doesn’t have the look for it. Could be her homemade cutoffs, or the way her braid reaches nearly past her butt. She seems too sweet and innocent to be part of this mess. “It’s not drugged or anything, I promise.” She takes a seat across from me and swallows a big, performative gulp to prove it to me.
But I’m not thirsty or hungry. Layla mentioned that the closer I got to my Heat, the harder it would be to keep food down. She didn’t say anything about hammering headaches and the burning desire to bite the flesh off my skeleton, but that might just be a side effect of Irene keeping me here by holding Fiona’s letter hostage.
“Have you read it?” I ask Nele.
“Um . . . what?”
“The letter.”
“Ah.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t even know Fiona existed until you gave your interview. Hundreds of people died in the Harrowing, and I wasn’t even born, so— ”
“The what?”
She bites her lips in confusion. I don’t think she’s had many interactions outside of the cult. “The Harrowing? When the Weres from the Northwest came after the Favored and murdered Constantine.”
“Do you know why they did that?” I ask, toneless.
“We were growing in size and power,” she recites. “They felt threatened. And Constantine had won a challenge against their Alpha.”
This girl is as much a victim of Irene as I am. There is something disturbingly familiar in her mannerisms, something that reminds me of the boy on the cliff. I try to be gentle when I ask, “Why would a pack with tens of thousands of Weres feel threatened by a cult with hundreds of members, no political influence, and no allies?”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “People don’t always act rationally.” That, too, comes out a little singsongy. “The unwise is not moved by reality. His behavior is a product of wishes and delusions.”