The Struggle(16)

“He’s not evil,” I said for what felt like the thousandth time.

Alex’s brows furrowed together as she turned back to the ocean. “I think . . . I think you’re right.”

“I am,” I said vehemently.

She nodded again and a moment passed. “I am sorry about your mother.”

The next breath I took hurt. “Thank you.”

Alex dragged the tips of her fingers through the crab grass and dirt. “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here.”

Pressing my lips closed, I nodded. I ran out of words along with the desire to find them. I didn’t say anything else. Neither did Alex. We just sat there in silence, shoulder to shoulder, joined in a way by the terrible things we’d experienced, the heartache we’d felt, and the shared dread of the unknown we faced.





Chapter 6


Seth

The house was as quiet as a ghost as I stood in the room I’d sworn I would never return to. I’d only made it a few feet inside the door when my feet stopped moving.

I couldn’t even believe that I’d walked into this damn house and I sure as hell had no idea why I’d come up here, to this room. It was the last place I ever wanted to be, but I was here, and had been standing here for what had to be hours.

Hours.

The people in the house—the staff or servants or whatever—had given me a wide berth as I’d entered. All except one. He was a male half-blood. He’d stayed back as I climbed the stairs, but I knew he was out in the hallway. Whoever the half was, he possessed major common sense and an admirable amount of instinct, because he’d known not to follow me into this room.

If he had . . . ?

The coldness in my chest spread like a vortex of ice and wind. If anyone had followed me in here, it would’ve been the last thing they’d done.

My hands open and closed at my sides as crackling power seeped out of my pores. The room was just like I’d left it all those years ago. A neatly made bed stood in the center of the spacious quarters. The nightstand by the bed only had a lamp positioned in the furthest corner. How many times had I moved that lamp closer to the bed and then found it the following evening pushed back to the farthest corner of the nightstand? Every single godsdamn day. There was a narrow dresser across from the bed with the same damn TV sitting on it, and that was it. Nothing else was in the room but a fine layer of dust covering the dresser and nightstand.

This had been my bedroom.

I wanted to burn this room.

Why did I want to come here? This wasn’t a place of happy, happy memories.

Emptiness poured into my chest as I surveyed the cold and lifeless bedroom. Coming back to this house meant I’d be near only a few thousand people. Andros wasn’t heavily populated. Coming here was a smart move, but walking into this room was a mistake.

I rubbed my palm over my chest, but nothing filled the gaping hole there, because that void had nothing to do with this house or this bedroom.

Exhaling roughly, I walked toward the heavily shrouded window and pulled the curtain back. Dusk had begun to settle over the courtyard down below. I closed my eyes, and instead of being sucked back into those long nights and mornings of staring out this window, watching my mother, I saw Josie’s face and I wanted to be there. I wanted to see her—

And then it happened.

My heart took a beat and every cell in my body scattered. One second I was in my old bedroom and the next I was standing in a small room that appeared to be a hotel. I took a step back as my gaze swung around the room. Heavy curtains were drawn, blotting out the sun. I caught a glimpse of blonde hair splayed out across a pillow.

Shit.

I hadn’t meant to do this.

But I had.

I’d brought myself to Josie.

Holy shit.

It had only taken a second, a freaking second, and I was suddenly within feet of her, and she was right there, lying on a bed, curled onto her side. Her back was to me, but I knew that was Josie. I knew the line of her body, even under a thin white blanket. That was her curve of the hip and waist. That was my Josie—that was psychi mou. My soul.

Only hours had passed since I’d left her, but it felt like a fucking eternity. I took a breath and it got stuck somewhere in my chest.

She was right there.

I didn’t move or dare to breathe too loudly. She couldn’t wake up. If she did and she said my name—if she looked at me, I couldn’t walk away again.

I shouldn’t be here.

Seconds slid by in a slow succession as a hundred questions rose in my head. Where was Josie? This didn’t appear to be the house we’d been in. Were they still in Malibu or had they left? If I concentrated hard enough I swore I could hear the ocean outside. Where was everyone else? Alex and Aiden? The boys and Poseidon’s son? How in the hell had I come all this way without realizing I was doing it?