Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“You’re sure about this?” Nate asked.
“Positive.”
“I’m still sorry,” Nate said, cutting his hazel eyes in her direction. “About everything.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Nate. The whole thing was fucked.”
He nodded, and they drove the rest of the way in silence. He cut the engine a block from Colette’s, taking the first parking spot available on the slushy streets.
“You know that you’re welcome with me anytime, Kierse.”
“I know,” she told him. And she did.
But she couldn’t remain at Nate’s. Nor could she stay with Colette. She had too much to do, too much to learn. And she needed to start now.
“Don’t make it another year, okay?” he said, pulling her into a hug. She didn’t fight it, just let his wolf warmth radiate over her. Oh, how things had changed.
“I’ll be back,” she promised.
She pushed open the door and was hopping out when he called, “Wait.” She stuck her head back into the car, and he passed her an envelope. “I wasn’t going to give this to you. He doesn’t deserve access to you, but . . . Fuck.”
Kierse turned the blank envelope over and saw that there was a green wax seal with an acorn pressed into it. Lorcan. She stuffed it into her jacket pocket.
“Thanks, Nate.”
Then she darted across the street and up the front steps of the brothel. Corey stood sentinel on the steps and had a wide smile for her.
“Kierse! Glad you made it.”
“Hey, Corey,” she said with a wave. She was surprised that he could still smile, considering what she, Gen, and Ethan were planning to do. But maybe Ethan hadn’t told him yet. Leaving it to the last minute.
“They’re waiting for you inside.” He pulled the door open for her.
Inside, she found Colette, her lush, red hair in a gorgeous wave down her back. She was in a floor-length black dress with a mink around her shoulders. She arched an eyebrow at Kierse’s appearance. “Welcome back.”
“Are you going soft on me?” Kierse asked, fighting for the familiar.
“Never.” Then her voice dipped. “I’m just glad that you brought my Genesis home to me. And Ethan,” Colette added. “And you, of course. All three of my children.”
Kierse’s throat closed up at those words. And when Colette held her arm out, Kierse let her hug her as well. A day of hugging for a day of leaving.
She took the old, familiar stairs, running her hand along the banister, listening for the same creaks that were always there. She took her time, reminiscing. Then, just before she reached the landing for the attic, she withdrew Lorcan’s letter.
She hadn’t been sure she’d read it, but she was too naturally curious.
Kierse,
I know you don’t trust me. I haven’t given you reasons to do so. But you cannot trust him, either. I won’t beat a dead horse and list the ways of his deception. I believe you have finally seen the truth of the matter.
I could wax poetic about the ways in which you are sacred to my people, how you have changed my entire world, but from our short acquaintance, I can tell that would not sway you.
So go.
Go see the wide world beyond. Learn your answers the way that I did. The way that he did. And when you return home, I will be waiting.
L.F.
P.S. I’d start at the Goblin Market on Grafton Street in Dublin.
Kierse folded the letter and stuffed it back into her pocket. Arrogant, insufferable man. As if he hadn’t threatened to kill her and her family innumerable times after making his own promises that he would not. Like she couldn’t see the web of his own deception. Now he was groveling because she was somehow sacred to his people. Not good enough.
She ground her teeth together and then released her anger before walking the last few steps up and pushing open the door to her attic.
Somehow, it felt . . . smaller.
Had all three of them really lived up here?
Their beds were the same against the far wall. The abandoned training facility in the center of the room. A space reserved for Gen’s tarot cards and herbal work. A couch where they lounged. She ran her finger along a dresser and found dust collected in the crevices. Ethan had been so tidy that it was hard to believe. Most of the plants were dead or their pots were empty. Gen’s discarded harp, a side project that had never taken root, was lying atop her messy table. Kierse’s clothes still filled the closets or lay scattered on the floor. The place where they lived.
“Hey,” Ethan said, sliding a full backpack on his shoulders.
“Kierse,” Gen said. She turned toward the sound of Kierse’s footsteps. “We were just packing up.”
All of Kierse’s clothes and belongings had been delivered in neatly packed boxes from Graves’s residence on Christmas morning. No note or anything from him. Just the boxes and another five million dollars deposited into her account. A closing to her services.