Robert sagged against Elias, something breaking open in his face. Elias pressed his forehead to his husband’s temple, his own composure fracturing at the edges. Loren Swift dipped his chin once, satisfied.
My father said nothing, but his disapproval crackled across my skin like static electricity.
Damon held my gaze for a long beat and, for the first time, allowed himself to display the true hatred he felt for me. Then he turned and moved toward the darkness at the far wall, Elara falling into step beside him.
“Lord Blackwood,” I called after him. “Damon.”
He stopped. “What is it, Stormwright?”
“If I do this,” I said, “you’ll take care of her. You’ll actually help her. Not use her as a piece in whatever game you’re playing against House Zeus.”
Damon snorted. “Of course. Unlike you, I actually care about Omegas.”
Without another word, he summoned the shadows toward him and his cousin. The darkness swallowed them both.
I stood in my office while the silence stretched. Robert and Elias were already moving toward the door, Loren Swift following with quiet efficiency.
I walked to the window and looked out at the Manhattan skyline. Somewhere across an ocean, Andie lay unconscious in her mother’s temple, dreaming of nothing.
I had just given another Alpha the right to set her free.
It was the first thing I had done for her that might actually help her. It was also the last thing I would ever be able to give her.
18
The Secret in the Orchard
Andie
I’d always liked apples. Growing up, it had never been something I’d questioned. The year I’d first presented, my mother had fed an apple to me every morning, and I’d loved it.
Age had changed my perspective. And when I opened my eyes to a canopy of green and gold, I felt no fondness or warmth. All I felt was nausea.
Branches heavy with fruit swayed above me. The grass beneath my back was impossibly soft, cushioning me like hands holding me up from below. White and purple flowers grew in patterns too deliberate to be wild, spiraling outward from where I lay.
This was the Adyton. The deepest part of Hera’s garden. I’d somehow managed to avoid coming here throughout my time in Samos. Apparently, I’d run out of luck.
“Andromeda.”
My mother’s face swam into focus as she leaned over me. Helena’s silver-streaked hair hung loose around her shoulders instead of in its usual severe arrangement. She looked older than I remembered, worn down in a way that went deeper than simple exhaustion. Her hand found my forehead, cool and careful. I was too weak to flinch away from it.
“You’re awake.” She lifted a cup to my lips before I could try to speak. It was water, cold and sweet. My body drank without consulting my mind about whether I wanted anything from her. “You’ve been unconscious for a week. The garden has been healing you, but it takes time to recover from what you went through.”
A week. I had lost an entire week to darkness and dreams I couldn’t remember.
I tried to push myself upright, but my arms trembled and gave out. When I fell back, the grass caught me, soft as a mother’s embrace. I hated it for that tenderness.
“Don’t push yourself,” a familiar voice advised me. “Your body needs more time.”
Danae moved into my line of sight. The shadows under her eyes told me she hadn’t slept properly since I’d last seen her. Her dark hair was escaping from a knot that looked at least five days old. She kept fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve the way she always did when she was trying not to cry.
“Danae,” I croaked out. “What happened?”
She flinched at the question. The guilt that flooded her face was so raw that I almost felt sorry for her. Almost, but not quite. I was starting to remember the reason I was lying in my mother’s sacred garden, missing an entire week of my life.
“The collar failed.” Danae couldn’t hold my gaze, her eyes dropping to the flowers by my shoulder instead. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and took a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry, Andie. I thought I could fix this. I thought science could beat a curse that’s survived for millennia. I was arrogant, and you almost died because of me.”
The collar.