by Amo Jones
“Where the fuck is Lilith?” he snaps at me, rocking me out of my deep and meaningful solo therapy session.
Rolling my eyes, I stand back up to my full height and stomp down the makeshift stage. I take one step. Two. Another. Until I’m close enough to him. I’m an ant beside Killian, with his staunch height towering over mine.
I crank my head up. “I don’t know, Killian.” Then I shove him out of my way, stepping out to the heat and making my way to my RV. Lilith has moved in with me, naturally, and to say that she’s taken the transition easy from Patience to Midnight Mayhem is a lie.
It’s as though she needs to be dominated. She needs to need something more than what Midnight Mayhem can offer her. In saying that, she’s going to cause an absolute shitstorm during the shows. I’m here for it.
“Yo! Don’t fuckin’ run away from me!” Killian yells from behind me as a few people pass me by. I reach for the handle and pull the door open. Too many words are swimming in my head, and I want to drown them all.
Just as I pull it open, his hand slams against it and closes it with a bang. I feel his chest against my back, his heat radiating off him in violent waves, threatening to pull me into him.
“What the fuck is this, Little Dragon, thought we were over this shit?”
I close my eyes to reach for some self-restraint as I feel the fog from his breath whisper over the back of my neck.
He killed your father. He killed Hope. He bullied you as a kid. He tricked you while you were here and you believed him. You will always be second to Maya.
“Leave me alone, Kill.”
“Fuck that,” he growls. “I’m not leaving you alone, Saskia. You’re not winning this one.”
“Winning what?” I yell, spinning around, as rage takes hold of me. I search his eyes, the brilliant flecks of blue a deadly reminder that not all that glistens is gold.
He gestures between the two of us. “This. You’re not fucking winning this.”
“What do you want from me!” My throat swells as defeat slowly bleeds into my veins. My shoulders sag as the release I’m fighting begins to win, the rope from the tug of war that we’ve been struggling with finally about to snap.
He presses against me until my back slams against the RV. “Isn’t it obvious?” The corner of his mouth tips up, his dimple sinking into his cheek. “You.”
Tears threaten the corner of my eyes, and I find myself once again angry that Killian has me between a rock and a hard place.
Metaphorically and literally.
“That’s not something I can give, Kill.”
He stills, his hand coming to my cheek. The tug of war begins again, but my hands are tied. “Babe, talk to me.”
I dampen my lips with my tongue, squeezing my eyes shut. “I can’t forgive you right now.” My body shakes as my legs threaten to give way. My stomach flips upside down, desperate to empty its contents. “I can’t—”
His lips brush over mine, both his hands caging me in on either side of my head. “Look at me.”
I can’t. I refuse. I turn my head to the side, needing to find something else to fixate on. Something that doesn’t make my heart feel like it’s about to expire. He gently hooks his fingers under my chin, turning my face to his.
I bite down stubbornly, my eyes crossing as I come face-to-face with my—whatever he is.
“I know I’ve done fucked up shit in my life. Shit, you don’t even know the half of it. I killed your dad, I did, but I was a fuckin’ kid that was being raised with an AK as a damn pacifier. I was born a killer. We all were. If you want me to stand here before you and tell you that I’m sorry for killin’ your dad, then I can’t do that. He was a piece of shit for allowing Patience to come for you. For running as soon as your mom wasn’t here anymore to stop him—because you know that’s what happened, right? And if you don’t believe me, I have fucking proof.”
“What do you mean you have proof?” I ask, and I don’t know why I skipped over all of the other raw details he spilled and reached straight for that—closure maybe—but I did, and I wanted to know.
He pushes off the RV and takes my hand. “Come.”
I do, because aside from my trust issues with him, there’s one thing that with all that we’ve been through that I absolutely know, and it’s that Killian wouldn’t kill me. Maybe that’s the first plank that has been laid down on our bridge. I follow him through Delila’s home, ignoring how haunted the mansion feels now with her not here. I don’t think I’ve come to the realization of her not being here anymore.
He continues down the hallway and into a room that’s at the very end of it, opening the door.
King, Keaton, and Kyrin are inside, talking around a mahogany table. My eyes fall to the picture frames that are on top. All of Delila and Maya. My heartbeat thickens again.
“Give us a minute,” Killian says to the boys, and they all look between him and I.
“You sure about that?” King asks, an eyebrow raised. “Don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
Killian picks up a black remote before his eyes collide with King. “Give us a minute.”
They all spill out of the room as Kill leans over the desk, his arms flexing. “I’m showing you this because I don’t want to have this conversation again. You can forgive me, or not, it doesn’t matter to me. I’d still want you to watch this.” He runs his hand over his sharp jaw. “Kyrin is a fucking genius. When we were kids, he used to do a lot of fucking filming.” Kill shakes his head, turning to face the TV. “There are hours and hours of film, a lot with you in it too, and a lot with your dad…”
My brows pull together as I round the sofa.
Killian presses play and the TV shows static before two boys come on.
“You’re a fucking idiot.” I shoved Kyrin in his arm when he aimed the camera right at me.
“No, I’m actually not.” He knew I was kidding, because he was the furthest thing from an idiot. We were fucking around outside after target practice with our dads, when the front door to our pool house slammed closed, stealing both of our attention.
Kyrin’s eyes came to mine. Dead. Angry. Hateful. That’s Kyrin.
I smirked. “Let’s go.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Kyrin asked but follows me. Everyone knew to follow me. My ideas were always bad, but they always followed.
I brought my finger to my lip signaling for him to be quiet.
He glares at me before stomping up the stairs.
I hit him with the back of my hand. “Shut up and film, asshole!”
“I don’t give enough of a fuck about this world to be an asshole.”
I rolled my eyes while slowly pushing open the front door.
“No,” Peter hushed into the phone that was pressed to his ear. “I can’t. She’s not gone yet.” There was a pause as Kyrin lined up the camera to be pointed directly on Peter. Peter sighed. “I don’t know when. Soon. She’s not got long, and then it’s done and I’ll be back in Patience.” Pause. “Yes, I will keep up my end of the deal. You grant me back into the trust and I will allow her to become a Little Doll.”
“What the fuck does he mean?” Kyrin whispered from behind the camera, shocking me out of my trance.
“Don’t know. But we’re going to tell Dad.”
My ears buzzed
“What else happened?” I ask, my throat dry.
It’s silent for a while before Kill clears his throat. “I went and talked to Dad. We concocted a plan. We knew that your mom was sick. I was angry…” Killian whispers, and I turn to face him.
He falls down onto the chair that was tucked under the table, running his hands through his hair. “I didn’t know why, but I remember that I was angry.” His eyes came to mine and sucked what little life I had inside of me out with it. “I wanted to protect you as a kid. It was three weeks later that your mom died and sure enough, your father packed up and was heading to Hope to drop you off.” He glares at me. “You know what family does, Saskia?” he asks, h
is tone a notch softer.
I swipe the stray tears that have fallen down my cheeks away angrily. Annoyed that I’m once again crying.
“Fuck,” he whispers, pushing up from his chair, making his way toward me. He pulls me into his chest and for a very brief second, I allow myself to be healed by him. In this moment, it didn’t matter that the same hands that had caused so much carnage were the only ones that could tame my sadness. It didn’t matter to me in this moment that most of the battle scars that Killian hides beneath his sharp looks and swagger were inflicted by the same man I called Papa. Or the same woman that I admired growing up.
He kisses me on the top of my head as I breathe in his scent. “The biggest fuckin’ lie that the world tells us is that family is what matters. Fuck that. Blood only stains the way you see toxicity. Your mom was good, baby. She was good and pure and smart. She stayed with us to protect you.”
I swipe my tears away and step out of his hold. I need space, because if I don’t get it, Killian will possess every part of me.
“She was?” I ask, relieved. The memories I have of my mom are pure, so to hear that she was good, is a relief.
Killian nods his head just as a voice booms from behind me. “It’s true.”
I instantly freeze before turning to face Draya.
She looks me up and down. “Your mom was good, but I still didn’t like her.” She picks at her fingers, crossing her legs.
“You’re fucking hateful, that’s why, and people who are filled with hate start spreading it all around them when it becomes too much for them to contain.”
Draya laughs, her head tilting back briefly, before her eyes land on mine. “Maybe, but let me tell you one thing, Little Dragon. I may be a hateful bitch, but I love my son.”
“Are you saying that she didn’t love me?”
Draya brings her eyes to mine. “Yes. Because if she did, she would have fought harder to keep you away from the monsters, knowing full well that you would become one.”
I take a few slow breaths.
“Why are you here?” Killian snaps from behind me.
When her eyes shift to him, I see them soften around the edges. “Maya is looking for you.”
Killian exhales. “I’ll be up soon.”
I find the door that she snuck in from, leading out from the back of the office. I could hear music spilling down the stairs loudly, as the silence in the room stretches for too long.
Draya stands, walking back to the door she came from. Just when I think she’s about to go upstairs, she turns to face both Killian and I. “I tried so hard to keep you both away from each other. I was friends with your mother, Saskia, and though you may think I’m a bitch, that is only because I, unlike my son, tend to have stronger family values. We didn’t want you two to become like this.”
“Why!” I ask the question that I’ve been desperate to ask since I noticed her animosity toward me.
Her head tilts. “You would both comfort each other as kids. You were actually a restless baby. You struggled to sleep some nights, so I would come to the pool house to help your mom while your father was off working for Kallisto. Of course, I’d have Killian with me during those times, because he didn’t let me leave his sight.”
She smiles softly as if the memory comforted her in some way. Deep down, I know why. Killian can be cold toward her at times, but I’m thinking that has more to do with her sexual relationships within Mayhem and less to do with his childhood trauma.
“It happened at random one night. Your mom and I decided to leave you to cry, see if that helped or if you’d put yourself to sleep after screaming. You went silent about three minutes in, and we were shocked. We both ran for the room—albeit quietly—which was when we found Killian in your crib. He had climbed up the rail and snuggled in with you. He was just over two years old, and you were weeks old. Your mother and I thought it was cute until it kept happening. You would cry, and Killian would know. It was as though you were a siren for him, singing his very own song. We knew then and there that you and Killian were somehow drawn to each other. As though his soul was waiting for your birth.”
I wrap my arms around my torso, fighting the shivers that are running through my veins.
“I needed you away from my son, Saskia. You, a girl of Patience, the very first hybrid, you could ruin him. This brotherhood. This world. I didn’t know what part of the spectrum you would fall on, good or evil. All I knew was that my son was wanting to do anything to soothe your cries.” She shakes her head, tucking her long black hair behind her ear. “Then Maya arrived not long after you, and well, that changed things drastically. He was torn even as a child between you and Maya. Eventually, I helped push him toward choosing Maya, by convincing him that you were a pest. By the time you were both of talking age, he didn’t like you anymore. I was sure deep down he still struggled, but for the most part, he fought to hate you.”
“Yo, okay, stop…” Killian steps in front of me like a protective beast. “That has nothing to do with what you were talking about, Mom. Back the fuck up, and I will never forgive you for the things you said about Saskia when she was a kid.”
“What?” Draya torments. “I didn’t do anything that you wouldn’t have felt eventually, Killian. I didn’t manipulate you by using a talent.” She looks between the two of us. “And you don’t think that girl already knows that you and Maya will end up together?” Then she brings her eyes to me. “Because let me tell you something, Saskia. My son comforted your pain, but you could never comfort his, and that’s the difference between you and Maya—”
“Enough!” Killian snaps. “Leave. Now.”
“Killian Cornelii, I’ve had about enough, and I’m not done talking.” She once again brings her eyes to mine, and the dagger that she flung into my heart thrusts deeper inside of me, missing every important artery and slowly killing me. “Your father was Killian’s first kill. As you know, if you do math, that made him very young. But that day wasn’t when his nightmares started, he wasn’t born that way. He was a happy child. Until he learned his first responsibility—you. For whatever reason the gods graced us with, he felt the need to watch over you—even when he hated it.”
I suck in a breath, my heart beating in my chest. Boom. Boom. Boom. Blood rushes through my eardrums as my world feels as though everything is caving in around me. The edges of my vision blur, a buzzing sound ringing out in my ear.
“Hey!” Killian’s hands are on my cheeks. “Don’t fucking listen to her. She’s crazy.”
“She’s right…” I whisper. “You may have hated me as you got older, but she’s right.”
His arm hooks around my waist, pulling me farther into him. “She’s not, and I didn’t hate you. I was a kid, confused with my feelings.”
I shove away from him. “I need a minute.” Turning around, I run out of the kitchen and through the house, shoving my way out the door. My breathing doesn’t slow. Not when I’m pushing my way through the trees, and not when I’m leaning over my knees heaving, my stomach flipping at every turn.
I stop running when I’m in the forest that connects Delila’s house to mine, swiping the sweat from my forehead.
“I can’t—” I shake my head, spinning around when I hear footsteps.
Killian is heading straight for me, but before I can say anything else, everything goes black.
“She’s going to be fine. She fainted. Can’t say I blame her. She was bound to snap sooner or later.” King gestures to Sass, who is stretched out on my bed. After she fainted in the forest, I carried her back to my bed at the house I have on the property.
“I told you all to leave her alone,” Perse mutters, brushing her hair back from her face. “She has just found out all this information, way more than I had to, and you expect her to also stand up against your mother?”
I flinch, because she’s right. I didn’t think about everything being piled on top of what she already knew.
“Is it true, Kill?” Perse asks, turning to face
me. The sun hits her red hair from the back, beaming through the binding doors that open out onto the patio.
“Is what true?” I ask, even though I half know what she’s about to ask.
“That you’re stuck between her and Maya?”
I can’t help it, my head tilts back and a laugh erupts from my mouth. “Let me ask you something, if I wanted Maya in that way, would she not already be mine?”
“But Saskia isn’t exactly either…”
“Saskia was mine the day she was born, Perse. That was inevitable. When she came in as a Royal, and if she had stayed a Royal, she would have been wife’d already, but then Dragavei was revealed and Patience happened. I tried to fight my impulses at every turn because to be honest with you, I didn’t trust her. Her intentions. Patience is manipulative and toxic, and I wasn’t sure exactly how much of that was sewn into her—but the day I found out that she was my Saskia, it all made fuckin’ sense to me. Even if I didn’t trust her.”
Perse grins. “So she is yours?”
My eyes snap to hers as a round of chuckles sound off behind me. I flip them all off. “Don’t act like you all didn’t already know.”
“Oh, we knew,” Keaton mutters. “But we weren’t sure you did.”
There’s a knock on the door, and I make my way toward it, swinging it open to see my mom on the other side.
“What?” I love my mom, and I hate disrespecting her, but every time she does something to hurt Saskia, it’s my impulse to rear my back up and protect her, because I know what my mom is like. I know how she plays. I know that she doesn’t just play a game, she owns the whole board.
“Maya needs you.”
My grip on the door handle tightens. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s not handling this well, Killian. I get that you want to be here for Saskia.” She looks over my shoulder, and I turn, following her sight.
Sass is awake, watching me across the room. A pool of emotions begins swimming in my gut. Confusion, need, hunger.