Sydney
Four Months Later
Dad’s orrery clicks and spins, the internal gears grinding against the soft patter of winter rain on the windows. I watch the strange tangle of metal for another few minutes, tucking my hands in the pockets of my old leather jacket before taking a breath and walking toward the stairs.
It’s only 8:00 A.M. The sun barely crests the snow-capped mountains in the distance when I reach the main foyer. Maids and workers rush past me with courteous bobs of their heads.
The world keeps spinning and spinning.
A flash of memory clouds my vision. I watch Gabriel drag his knife across Evander’s throat. Kenna’s scream sears into my mind like a brand.
I blink, and the memory vanishes, replaced by the pale cream rug and ceiling height windows overlooking the private drive.
I remind myself I’m back in Crescent Falls, and nothing is amiss.
“Oh, I thought that might have been you in the orrery.” Mom's voice drifts toward me on a coffee scented breeze. “Did you hear the news?”
“What news?” I slowly turn my head to her, noticing her eyes are softly creased as her lips pull into a smile.
Her grin falters a bit when she notices my hard expression.
“Kenna and Evander just found out they’re having a boy. Isn’t that wonderful?”
I nod, clearing my throat. “I thought they might.” I knew they would, actually. I saw it in the stars, not that anyone needs to know that. I still don’t exactly know how to read the heavens. My dad never mastered it, and he passed those strange powers down to me.
I see so many things and can never make sense of most of it.
“You should stay for breakfast,” Mom offers as I start striding toward the door. “Sydney, please. You’ve been out running around Crescent Falls and the surrounding packs looking for that girl from Eastonia for months–”
“It’s still an active mission,” I remind her, doing my best to flash her a charming grin. I fail, of course. Ryan is so much better at buttering up our parents. “I have pack matters to attend to this morning. I was just stopping by to–to–” Why am I here? I keep forgetting. I often walk into a room and get blinded by memories of being under the mountain with Gabriel and completely forget why I’m there and what I meant to do.
I run my fingers through my hair as Mom narrows her eyes at me. “You need sleep, honey.”
“I sleep,” I lie. “I’m just busy. If you want to help me, you can ask Dad and Uncle Ryatt to take me off this case. I’m an engineer, not a detective.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she murmurs, but her stormy blue eyes bore into the back of my head as I hurry through the door and down the rain-soaked front steps.
I walked all the way here, I remember that much. It snowed for a while when I approached the castle earlier this morning to use the orrery.
I kick at a pebble as I walk briskly down the private road leading off the royal property, letting my memories flood back. I woke up at 4:00 A.M. and had two cups of coffee. I worked out, then went on a run, and by then it was…6:00 A.M. Yeah, 6:00 A.M. Then I came here to…
“Sasha,” I say, letting the woman’s name roll off my tongue. “That’s why I came here.”
Because I can’t fucking find her, and I’ve been looking for four months. I’ve canvassed every pack, spoken to every Alpha, Beta, lowest ranking rogues and everyone in between. No one remembers an eleven-year-old orphan from Eastonia. No one knows who she is or where to find her.
So I looked toward the stars, again, for the millionth time, to see if they finally had an answer for me.
Instead, two hours of my day vanished in what felt like a single blink.
I wave to the guards at the security gate and wait for the gate in question to roll back, then stride into the sprawling network of townhomes and mansions that hug the royal grounds.
A mile later, the rain turns back to wet, clumpy snow, and I step into the city-center.
I don’t have pack matters to deal with today. That was a lie. For the past four months, most of the day-to-day activities have been the burden of my Beta, Asher. As for work at my engineering firm, it tends to run smoothly without me trapped behind a desk all day.
So, I walk the streets of Crescent City looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found.
I’m not sure why it matters so much to me to find her. Before Gabriel captured me and Evander, I was in agreement that Sasha shouldn’t be located and that she wasn’t a threat. Sure, she’s a powerful witch. But she’s the sister… no, the cousin of Gabriel, and he’s still out there. Finding her and protecting her from him means protecting the Allied Kingdoms from his wrath, or so I tell myself.
I can’t witness something like what happened to Kenna and Evander again.
So, I keep walking.
I haven’t bothered to shave in several days. I scratch the stubble along my jaw, trying to make sense of what exactly I need to be doing right now, and decide I need coffee, first and foremost. I can’t remember the last time I slept more than a couple of hours at a time.
I eventually walk into the Neutral Zone and go to that coffee shop I found when I’d come here looking for Evander all those months ago. It feels like a lifetime has passed since then. I order a hot coffee and wait at the counter, thumbing through the notifications on my phone as conversations carry on around me.
“Sydney?”
I look up from my phone and raise a finger as the barista sets my coffee down and moves on, but my eyes catch a burst of color against the onslaught of gray beyond the coffee shop windows.
There’s a shop across the street I hadn’t noticed before. Wet snow drips down windows that show off an array of foliage and flowers. The door leading inside the shop is bright pink and hand-painted with forget-me-nots and daisies.
Intrigued, I sip my coffee as I walk across the street. It’s a flower shop, obviously. I have no reason to go inside other than… well, I have nothing else to do.
A bell chimes as I walk in and close the door behind me with a crunch.
“I’m back here if you need me!” A lifted, feminine voice drifts through the air as I walk around the store. Bundles of flowers and herbs sit in narrow buckets and shelves are covered in a wide variety of potted houseplants.
My skin prickles with heat and a sudden surge of energy as I pass under several grow lights that cast the peachy pink walls in stripes of vibrant blue.
But then I hear a crash and a muffled curse.
A curtain separates the main room from what I assume is a storage or work area of some sort.
I take a slow sip of my coffee as I watch the curtain. It doesn’t move. “Are you all right back there?”
“Just fine,” the voice grumbles.
The curtain parts and….
“I just cut my finger,” a woman says as she crosses the room. “I’m so clumsy.”
I watch her walk behind the counter and crouch with effort.
My mind is blank in a way I’ve never experienced before. I know her. I swear I know her from somewhere. Her ashen blonde hair catches the snowy light coming from the windows as she rises with a first aid kit.
“I’ll be with you in just a second, sir. I’m bleeding all over the place–” She meets my eyes with a “customer-service” smile that immediately cracks. Her eyes–a strange shade of violet–go wide. “A-Alpha Sydney, I didn’t know–”
“Here,” I tell her, closing in on the counter in a single step. I set my coffee down and reach for her hand. “May I?”
“I can put a bandage on by myself,” she says with a nervous laugh, but I shake my head. Reluctantly, she allows me to take her hand, and when her skin touches mine I feel… I feel…
Hazy. Like I’m missing something. Like I’m locked out of my own head.
“This is pretty deep. How’d you manage it?” I graze my thumb over a gash in her forefinger.
“Sheers–oh!” She yanks her hand away, shocked, and holds it protectively against her chest.
I can still see the wound, however. Pale white power shimmers on her skin as the wound quickly knits itself together.
“You’re welcome,” I tell her, grabbing my coffee. “Sorry if I startled you.”
She gives me an odd look then examines her finger. “You didn’t,” she says slowly, reaching behind her to untie her apron strings. “I just don’t come across people with extra gifts very often.”
“It’s more common now that the Veil is gone,” I say absently, but my eyes are still searching her face, mentally tracing every line. She’s beautiful. Absolutely stunning in a way I can barely put into words. She’s an artist's rendition of what the Moon Goddess might have looked like as a human–ethereal and unique, with a thin, sculpted nose, high cheekbones, and wide eyes.
Eyes the color of lavender. I’ve never seen that before.
I think.
I should ask her out. Or at least talk to her, for fuck’s sake. If Ryan were here, he would be all over her by now or urging me to make a move.
But I find her oddly familiar. I just can’t place it.
“Can I help you find anything in particular?” she asks a bit unsteadily, her back to me as she hangs up her apron on a hook behind the counter.
“I’m, uh, actually, do you ship to Eastonia?”
She looks at me over her shoulder. “Eastonia? No, never. Plus, the borders are closed again.”
“Right.” I click my tongue. “Never mind.”
“What, exactly, do you need to send to Eastonia? They have very strict environmental laws when it comes to shipping flora–”
“I know,” I say, chuckling.
“Of course, you do, being the prince and all.”
Her tone is… not teasing, no. She’s nervous, and it’s painfully obvious as she keeps her back to me and keeps her hands busy by picking up random items and setting them down again.
“My cousin and her mate just found out that they’re having a son. I was going to send them flowers. Something blue, I guess.”
“Congratulations,” she says in a near whisper, and turns back around.
She’s pregnant–visibly so. Her sage green dress barely hides the swell of her belly as she eases onto a stool and looks up at me expectantly. I hadn’t noticed it before because of the apron. “I’m sure they have florist in Eastonia.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I run my fingers through my hair. “Never mind. I–you have a nice shop. Have a good day–”
“Wait. Wait–” She tries to stand but winces as she grips the counter. “You should take some flowers back to the queen, at least. On the house, of course. Or for yourself. As a thank you for mending my finger–”
“No, it’s fine, really, I–are you hurting?” I fight the urge to leap over the counter and help her back onto the stool, but she shakes her head.
“I’m just sore. My bed in the apartment upstairs is… well, it came with the building, and it’s terrible.”
“You should replace it,” I say stupidly, and her eyes narrow slightly.
“I’d love to, but people generally don’t come in to buy flowers in the winter. I make most of my income during the festivals in the summer and–” she waves a hand over her belly, “I’ve had expenses come up.”
“Ah.” I nod. “Does your mate help you out around here, or is it just you?”
“Just me.”
“Where is he? Does he–”
“I don’t have a mate,” she says, and her lips twitch into a ghost of a smile. “It’s just me.”
I feel like an asshole. “Did you do the flowers for the festival this past summer?”
“A bit, yeah. Enough to keep this place afloat during the winter, I hope. I just opened this past spring.”
“And you’re alone?”
“I already answered that,” she laughs, her eyes suddenly a shade lighter than before. I’m sure I’m imagining it.
But she’s even more beautiful now that she’s smiling, and I feel a nagging ache in my chest at the sight.
Like I know her. Like I remember that smile.
I walk toward the door before I can say anything else, but stop mid-step and turn back around.
I meet her gaze, holding it. “Have we met before?”
The silence between us is deafening. She chews her lower lip–a motion that sends my body into a sudden frenzy.
“No, Your Highness. I don’t think we have.”
“What’s your name?”