eyes glued to the doorway.
King Kincaid and Fi came in to view.
They stopped under the archway of the door.
All oxygen left me.
My feet went flat and I started backing up, shaking my head rapidly.
My heart beat a chaotic rhythm, dread filling me soul-deep. Chest constricting, I gasped for air that didn’t come. I grabbed my throat and my chest, staring at their tear-stained faces.
Appearing as if they had aged a hundred Com years, their bloodshot eyes found mine.
I banged against a wall, leaning heavily on it. “Don’t,” I whispered thickly, knowing their expression. I had seen it once before. Last year, on my mom’s friend’s face, right after she had found her dead. “Don’t you dare say it.” A sharp shake of my head. “He’s not dead.”
“Lily,” Dominic’s dad spoke, his voice rasping, cracking. “Come here, honey.” Gently, he released his grasp on Fi’s shoulder, who wobbled and wiped her wet cheeks as he crept toward me. “You’ll be alright. Just come here.” His arms were opened wide, his feet still moving, and his voice broken, splintered, like my heart, the very depth of me. “I’m so sorry, honey. There was nothing we could do.”
I choked on a gut-wrenching sob, my mind screaming denials. “He cannot be dead!” I jammed a pointed finger at him. “He is not dead.” Mine! Dominic was mine! Shaking hard, I demanded, “No, goddammit!”
Dominic’s dad was so close. Too close made this real. It couldn’t be real.
A cool breeze brushed my hand. A window. Mind raging, I screamed, “ He. Cannot. Be. Dead!” Dark eyes, so like Dominic’s, gazed back at me with compassion. Almost on me.
Twisting sharply toward the window, I threw myself at it. The screen busted with the force of contact, flying out with me. I didn’t even feel the impact as I hit grass, rolling. I didn’t look back as I heard the shouts.
I ran.
Ran away from death that seemed to follow me everywhere. All I’d ever loved was dead.
I wasn’t going to deal tonight with my life’s mate gone forever.
My feet kept moving, my heart and Core shredded beyond repair.
Chapter Five
Sitting high on a tree branch — downwind — I watched my mate’s funeral service. Hugging the oak tree, no tears fell. There were none left. I had cried them all out during the four days since he had been shot in the head when Hell’s Gate was attacked. The bullet hadn’t even been silver. A blunder on the shooter’s account, but the wound had still been deadly. Even though I had been on the run, barely staying ahead of the Mys soldiers tracking me, I had watched the news.
I knew how my mate had died.
I also knew they were calling me the new Prodigy Shifter. The power passed to the mate if the Prodigy Shifter had already mated and the mate was a wolf. I fit all those categories. The power now warming me full was, indeed, the Prodigy Shifter power.
There were two problems.
One: I didn’t want it.
Two: I was a hybrid.
Two very important issues, although, all Mysticals worldwide would think my second issue more important than my first. Normally, Elders or Kings, one from each of the four factions, came together during an Awakening. The Elder, or King, who was part of your Mys faction led the change that brought you into your power, but the other three were needed. Four powers, side-by-side, but still individually separated, all but for a singular touch. Hence, the no hybrid Law. The reason for the Executioner. Why being me, a hybrid, was a death sentence walking.
There was logic behind their barbaric madness. If every Mys started breeding with one another, then there might eventually be no separation. No separation meant no Awakening. And no Awakening for a Mys meant death. Death meant the end of the Mys race altogether.
Although, understanding the reasons didn’t mean I would let myself be killed.
Here I was, now the Prodigy Shifter. I really didn’t care. I just knew I would gladly give this power to someone else.
King Kincaid and Fi came in to view.
They stopped under the archway of the door.
All oxygen left me.
My feet went flat and I started backing up, shaking my head rapidly.
My heart beat a chaotic rhythm, dread filling me soul-deep. Chest constricting, I gasped for air that didn’t come. I grabbed my throat and my chest, staring at their tear-stained faces.
Appearing as if they had aged a hundred Com years, their bloodshot eyes found mine.
I banged against a wall, leaning heavily on it. “Don’t,” I whispered thickly, knowing their expression. I had seen it once before. Last year, on my mom’s friend’s face, right after she had found her dead. “Don’t you dare say it.” A sharp shake of my head. “He’s not dead.”
“Lily,” Dominic’s dad spoke, his voice rasping, cracking. “Come here, honey.” Gently, he released his grasp on Fi’s shoulder, who wobbled and wiped her wet cheeks as he crept toward me. “You’ll be alright. Just come here.” His arms were opened wide, his feet still moving, and his voice broken, splintered, like my heart, the very depth of me. “I’m so sorry, honey. There was nothing we could do.”
I choked on a gut-wrenching sob, my mind screaming denials. “He cannot be dead!” I jammed a pointed finger at him. “He is not dead.” Mine! Dominic was mine! Shaking hard, I demanded, “No, goddammit!”
Dominic’s dad was so close. Too close made this real. It couldn’t be real.
A cool breeze brushed my hand. A window. Mind raging, I screamed, “ He. Cannot. Be. Dead!” Dark eyes, so like Dominic’s, gazed back at me with compassion. Almost on me.
Twisting sharply toward the window, I threw myself at it. The screen busted with the force of contact, flying out with me. I didn’t even feel the impact as I hit grass, rolling. I didn’t look back as I heard the shouts.
I ran.
Ran away from death that seemed to follow me everywhere. All I’d ever loved was dead.
I wasn’t going to deal tonight with my life’s mate gone forever.
My feet kept moving, my heart and Core shredded beyond repair.
Chapter Five
Sitting high on a tree branch — downwind — I watched my mate’s funeral service. Hugging the oak tree, no tears fell. There were none left. I had cried them all out during the four days since he had been shot in the head when Hell’s Gate was attacked. The bullet hadn’t even been silver. A blunder on the shooter’s account, but the wound had still been deadly. Even though I had been on the run, barely staying ahead of the Mys soldiers tracking me, I had watched the news.
I knew how my mate had died.
I also knew they were calling me the new Prodigy Shifter. The power passed to the mate if the Prodigy Shifter had already mated and the mate was a wolf. I fit all those categories. The power now warming me full was, indeed, the Prodigy Shifter power.
There were two problems.
One: I didn’t want it.
Two: I was a hybrid.
Two very important issues, although, all Mysticals worldwide would think my second issue more important than my first. Normally, Elders or Kings, one from each of the four factions, came together during an Awakening. The Elder, or King, who was part of your Mys faction led the change that brought you into your power, but the other three were needed. Four powers, side-by-side, but still individually separated, all but for a singular touch. Hence, the no hybrid Law. The reason for the Executioner. Why being me, a hybrid, was a death sentence walking.
There was logic behind their barbaric madness. If every Mys started breeding with one another, then there might eventually be no separation. No separation meant no Awakening. And no Awakening for a Mys meant death. Death meant the end of the Mys race altogether.
Although, understanding the reasons didn’t mean I would let myself be killed.
Here I was, now the Prodigy Shifter. I really didn’t care. I just knew I would gladly give this power to someone else.
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