The weight of our kind's survival rested on their shoulders, a fate I wouldn't have taken on even if my shoulder had been tapped for the position.
The door groaned under its weight as it slid open, revealing a space that was so large it was impossible to be anything other than almost wholly empty. There were candelabras set up, candles flickering around to give light to the dark space, only a few small windows providing slants of daylight to trickle through.
Two giant hearths were the main attractions in the space, one to either wall, large enough to boil stew when the harvest was plentiful enough for the entire tribe.
Directly in the center of the room was a large round table, worn and lackluster with age, five chairs around it with a large bench to the side for tribe members to sit and wait while matters were debated, while fates were decided.
Heads turned, three I had expected, all being elders from when I had last dwelled in these lands.
The eldest of the elders, Foren and Borena, both white-haired, wrinkled, stooping forward a bit with age, thin and almost frail-looking, something you didn't often see in our kind, something that proved their advanced years. Foren wore his typical brown robes, ones made threadbare with use, the brown matching his eyes save for the bright green specks around the pupils. Borena wore similar robes, but hers were newer, well-cared for. A golden trinket hung from her neck, the image worn away through time, but matching the flecks of gold in her eyes.
Then there was Aurelia who was closer in age to Drayven, her hair long, black, gleaming down her back as it had always done. She forewent the robes of the older of the elders, wearing instead plain white skirts and a long tunic-like top. The collar and cuffs were trimmed with a dyed blue that matched the dark color that was mixed in her eyes as well.
It wasn't any of them, or their surprised inhalation of breath that had me stopping short, jerking back.
No.
That would be the newest member of the elders, someone I wouldn't consider old enough for the job. Someone I wouldn't have thought would have even wanted it.
Kieran had been born the same week I had. Living in the home next door, we had been raised practically as brothers, spending our youths getting into trouble, roughing each other up in both Draca and regular form. As we aged up, we got jobs together, moved out together, chased women together.
He'd always been content with his lot in life, happy to go the normal route of living it up while he was young, then eventually settling down, continuing his lineage.
He'd never once made mention of wanting to be an elder, of having such lofty ideas.
But there was no denying that was who was facing me from his position at the end of the table.
Tall and wide like me was about where our similarities ended. Where I was dark-haired, he was light. Where my hair was short, he wore his long. Where my clothes were a mismatch of the rags I had been given while in captivity and the human clothes Amy had gotten for me, his were the finest our tribe had to offer, deep navy blue. The kind that matched his eyes. Except for the silvery starbursts he also had within them.
It was rare.
Our kind typically had brown eyes with flecks of some other color.
Kieran was the only Draca I knew who had blue as his dominant color.
I used to claim it was the only reason women fell over themselves for his attention when I clearly had the better personality.
My old best friend, the man I had probably been closest to in the world, was somehow a tribe elder?
"No," he said, the word a hiss, disbelief, confusion, and awe taking turns dancing across his face as he looked over me.
"Kieran. I know a lot of time had passed since I have been here, but I didn't realize that so much had that I would be the same age as a tribe elder."
"It's really you," Aurelia broke in, drawing my attention, finding there was a misting in her eyes. "How your family wept," she added, shaking her head. "How they begged."
"Begged?" I asked, brows drawing together.
"To be allowed to search for you," Kieran clarified, voice steel, firm, unyielding, cold. But not, I didn't think, toward me. Toward them, possibly? Toward his colleagues? But why? "They were voted down year in and year out," he added, gaze holding mine. And suddenly, it all made sense.
This man, this friend of mine who never wanted a grand position in life, had joined the council in order to have a vote. To try to sway others in my favor. To try to find me, save me.
"That is all the past," Foren said in that scratchy voice of his, like all the moisture was slowly being sucked out of his body, making his voice dry as aged paper.
Clearly, Foren had never voted in my favor.
And because they were of the old, fearful ways, I bet Borena hadn't either. Or Mevan who Kieran had clearly replaced, who had been the eldest of them all, likely long since passed.
But if there was still voting going on, it meant either Drayven or Aurelia - or both - had voted against my family's pleas as well since majority always ruled.
"Where have you been, my son?" Borena asked, pressing her weathered hand to her chest.
"Captive," I told them, cutting right to the chase. "Enslaved. Kept in chains. Made to work. Beaten to try to force the Change. Day in and day out. For however long I have been gone."
To my side, Kieran's jaw, already sharp, went even harder, a muscle ticking there, a telltale sign of barely-held aggression. He wanted to lash out, to yell, to tell these men and women how they had failed me, one of their own, how their fear and inaction had allowed me to suffer.
But he said nothing.
He had a place now.
A place he would have for the rest of his life.
And there were rules.
Of decorum.
Of procedure.
He couldn't unleash his rage because he had been right when no one else believed him.
That wasn't how it worked.
I'd have to find some time to get him alone, to let him know that I in no way blamed him, that I was sorry he had committed his life to something that would make him miserable all in the hopes of one day getting to see me again.
It was humbling, in that moment, to realize how loved I had been.
Over so much time, it had been easy to almost forget all the connections, all the bonds that had once been such a huge part of my life.
"Who had captured you?"
"The Winters family."
"Light?" Drayven growled
"Technically, yes. In practice, no."
"Forgive us for asking, but we must," Foren started, drawing my attention to him. "Are we at risk?"
"I would never give up my clan," I insisted, voice rough with a hint of anger.
"We aren't accusing you, son," Drayven insisted, holding up a hand. "But men can be made to do terrible things if exposed to the right motivations."
"Believe me, if there was a motivation they could think of, they used it on me. Repeatedly." There was no hint about it at that point. I was full anger. My voice boomed through the empty space, echoing back at us, likely able to be heard outside the walls. "And I never so much as insinuated there were more of me. That we flourished in seclusion. I would never betray my people. It is insulting to imply I was even capable of such a thing."
"Alright," Borena's voice chimed in, her hand raising in a calming gesture. "Let's not let this meeting become hostile."
"Then don't motivate me to be hostile," I suggested, eyes boring into Foren.
"Can you tell us more about your savior?" Drayven suggested.
"Savior?" Kieran asked, blue eyes pinning me.
"Her name is Amethyst. She is the youngest Winters offspring. Don't," I cut off Foren who went to speak, "interrupt me," I told him, voice brooking no argument. They could accuse me all they wanted, but they were not going to second-guess Amy's innocence in her family's wickedness. "Trust me when I say her fate was not much better than mine. She had made up her mind to run away from home in an effort to avoid being used as
a pawn at her mother's hands. And before she left, she risked her own freedom to ensure mine. This is after a lifetime of trying to ease the burden of my beatings, trying to distract the guards. Don't you dare try to question her innocence. She is the only reason I am here now instead of wrapped in chains that would continue to eat away at my flesh for decades to come."
"We will want to speak with her," Aurelia chimed in, voice soft, almost motherly. It would make you think you could trust her. But I wasn't sure I trusted any of them with Amy.
"That's fine. But after she has been able to settle in. She's terrified right now," I added.
"Of us?" Foren croaked. "Her kind is the reason all of us have needed to hide behind a veil, why we had to forbid anyone ever leaving it after we overlooked youthful folly when you and your friends would venture out to explore, and you never came back, why we have needed to..."
"Foren," Kieran cut in, voice sharp. "All due respect, but I don't believe any of us need a history lesson. We know why we are behind the veil. Drake clearly needs to see his family, settle in, check on his friend. Perhaps we can delay any further questioning for another day or two. He has been through hell. I think we can all offer him some solace."
"Of course," Aurelia agreed, giving me a small smile.
"We have no reason to need to get into all the details right this moment, now that we know there is no threat," Drayven agreed.
And that was three.
The majority ruled.
"Kieran, why don't you bring Drake back to his friend. And his family," Drayven suggested. "If I remember correctly, you used to be friends."
"We did," Kieran agreed, but didn't elaborate, simply moved away from the table, brushing past make his way to the door.
"I apologize if I seemed disrespectful," I told the rest, not meaning a word of it, but going through the motions of it anyway. "It has been a long couple of weeks. I'm tired. I will be more open at our next meeting."
"Of course," Aurelia said, waving a hand. "We know you wouldn't mean any disrespect. Go, see your family again. We will find you when we need you."
With that, I turned, taking long strides to the door to catch up with Kieran who closed it carefully behind us, taking several long strides before he let it out.
"Those clueless, fearful, ridiculous old fucks," he growled. "I told them. Dozens, hundreds of fucking times. And they wouldn't listen. So wrapped up in their old, bitch-ass ways to take any fucking risks. Even for the safety of one of their own kind."
My lips curved up. "It's nice to see you again too, K," I told him, watching as he stopped, turned back, let the tension go.
"It's been a misery for you," he said, shaking his head. "But believe me, our pain has been great as well." His arm reached out, clamping over my shoulder, the closest thing to affection we would ever be comfortable with.
"I appreciate everything you've done," I told him, meaning it. "I know all you have sacrificed."
"It's nothing. Your safe. You're home. What's a couple hundred years hanging out with those old, stuck-in-their-ways fucks? Come, your mother must be beside herself," he reminded me, releasing my shoulder to lead me back to the square where the crowd had split in two. There was an inner circle of people allowed breathing room by the much larger outer group.
I couldn't see faces, but I knew.
That inner group was my family.
My stomach knotted, twisted so hard that it made me stumble back a step even as my heart pounded frantically in my chest.
We were all of twenty feet away when someone pointed, making the whole inner group turn.
And they swarmed.
I was pulled from every side, arms closing over me, tears soaking into me, so many voices speaking all at once that I couldn't make a single one out.
But they all seemed here.
My heart swelled at that, at realizing I hadn't lost anyone, that no one had passed without me being able to say goodbye.
There were my parents, a bit more wrinkled than when I had left. Two aunts, uncles, cousins. My two sisters. Their mates, men that were vaguely familiar, but their names lost in time to me.
Not only were they all there, but there were new additions too.
My older sister, Nesta, had a baby at her hip, another clinging to her leg, both possessing the same green flecks in their eyes as their mother.
My younger sister had a belly swollen with what seemed to be her first. I wondered if it would inherit the unique purple accent to its eyes as well.
"Let him breathe, let him breathe," my father insisted, pulling my mother back as she cried, mumbling things so fast that all the words were tumbling together. "Son, we never gave up hope," he told me, blinking away the moisture in his eyes.
Seeing it, I needed to do the same.
"Mama," Nesta's oldest called, tugging at the edge of her jacket. "Who is that?" she asked, sticking a pudgy hand out, pointing toward the fire pit.
My gaze followed, finding her turned to face us, tears falling down her cheeks with abandon. She didn't even attempt to wipe them away.
"Amy," I breathed out, moving away from the crowd of my family, making my way back over toward her, pulling her close as soon as she was in arm's reach. "What happened? Are you alright?"
"My family took you from them," she cried into my chest. "They love you. And we took them from you."
"Not we, honey. You had nothing to do with that. You gave me back to them."
"This is she," Kieran declared, moving in beside me, making Amy pull back a few inches to look over at him. "She doesn't look like she could even lift a chain," he added.
I opened my mouth to defend her, but surprising me, she stiffened, reaching up to swipe her cheeks with the sleeves of her jacket. "And you don't look old enough to be considered an elder. Looks can be deceiving."
Kieran's lips curved up at that, appreciating honesty. "Apparently so," he agreed. "Our appreciation knows no limits," he went on, shaking his head. "For bringing him back to us. You're shaking," he observed, brows drawing low. "Is she unwell?" he asked, directing the question at me.
"It has been a long, cold, snow-filled journey."
"You must have a chill straight through to your bones," my mother declared, moving into the space to Amy's side, pressing a motherly hand to her cheek. "Drake, come. Bring your girl," she added, and neither Amy nor I corrected her. I couldn't help but wonder if it was simply embarrassment on her part, or something more. "We will settle you two into our home for now. Get you fed and changed. Let you rest. What is your name again, angel?" she asked, pulling Amy away from me to cluck over her on the short walk back to my family home.
It was Kieran who hung back a few feet who had the good sense to clarify. "Is she your girl?"
"I'd like for her to be," I admitted as we fell into step a dozen paces behind my family, my mother and sisters fawning over Amy like their long-lost daughter and sister.
"She know that?"
"Not yet."
"You sure it's actual feelings, not just all the craziness of her rescue and now you saving her and all that?"
It was a fair question.
Even if a part of me bristled at the words, I understood Kieran's motivations. After all, we mated for life. You wanted to make sure you made the best choice.
"Well," I said, watching as my mother rushed Amy into the house I had grown up in, made smaller with time. It almost seemed unlikely we would all fit inside the building that was perhaps one and a half of Amy's apartments in the city, only being larger than most because my father and I had put the sweat into it to expand it for my sisters.
It was the same, in most ways, as I remembered it - the same wood my father had felled when he had wanted to mate with my mother, the same ones that my father, Kieran and I had felled when he decided to expand. The shutters were closed over the windows that would be thrown open in the summer to let the fresh air in. The roof looked new, but with the same combination of wood and greenery that had always been there. Smoke huffed h
appily out of the chimney, inviting us into its warmth.
"I guess time will tell."
NINE
Amy
From the moment Aya - Drake's mother - put her hand to my face, everything seemed to happen in a flurry of activity.
I had gone from freezing and alone, everyone watching me like I was about to whip out a machete and start hacking everyone to death, to cozied in front of a fire while Nesta - Drake's older sister - boiled me water for chamomile tea to warm up my insides and Rayna - Drake's younger sister - made me a plate of dried fruits and veggies to go along with the nuts and seeds I had left.
I had snuck a lot of it into the bag I had convinced Smoky to take with her, knowing she would be too proud to take it otherwise, but also that she was desperately in need of the sustenance.
"As soon as you ward off that chill, we will take you into the bedroom so you can wash up. We'll lend you some warmer clothes too," Aya told me, in full mom-mode toward me even as she couldn't take her eyes off her son who was standing near the wall, talking in low tones with his father, both of their faces a bit grim, making me long to know what they were talking about, but reminding myself that Drake needed his privacy with his family.
"You really saved him?" Rayna asked, dropping down beside me at the dining room table.
"My family had been the ones to chain him up," I told her, uncomfortable with the look of gratitude in her eyes. "I don't know if setting him free qualifies as saving him in this situation."
"Don't be ridiculous," Nesta demanded, rolling her eyes as she pushed back her shoulder-length brown hair. "Of course it qualifies. If you didn't take him with you, he'd still be there now, wouldn't he?"
"Yes."
"Then you saved him," she told me, tone brooking no argument. "Accept our gratitude, Amethyst. You deserve it. We were close to giving up hope."
The door might as well have revolved over the next few hours as distant family members, old friends, nosy neighbors all showed up to see Drake, to dote on him, to offer him any help he might need in getting back on his feet.
Escape From The Green Page 16