Gritting my teeth, I leaned over, inhaling the familiar scent. Tears choked my throat as the comforting smell of my father, his cologne, pounded into me in brutal waves. Joy and sorrow so deep my legs dipped. The few things I did have of his, which were still back at HDF, had lost his smell years ago. Now I had nothing. I wanted to wrap myself in it, pretend for a moment he was alive, that we still had time together. Imagine it was his love surrounding me again. Hugging me and telling me it was all going to be okay.
A pop from the fire twisted me back to the room. Nothing really stood out about the place. There were no pictures or personal touches, but I sensed something homey about it. Made me feel protected and safe.
Why was I here? Why was my father? And why was the book showing me the same house from my dream?
An object on the small table caught my attention, pulling me closer. A journal lay open, and a picture was stuffed behind one of the pages. My heart thumped against my ribs as I pulled it out, seeing a beautiful, dark-haired woman laughing, her hand on her growing belly.
My hands shook as I plucked up the picture, another violent wave of emotion smashing down on me as I stared into the stunning face of my mother. The only picture I ever saw of her was a blurry, faraway one. People told me I looked like my father, but I could see I had her smile and onyx eyes.
Tears slid down my face as I took her in. Her hand lovingly rubbed her belly.
Me.
Little did she know, I would take away her smile, the love of her life, my father’s heart. The night I came into this world, I destroyed both parents, even if I only killed one.
My fingers brushed her face. “I’m so sorry, Mom.” It was a sentiment I said countless times, but now it felt more real, seeing her, young and beautiful, full of joy and possibilities. I took it all away from her.
A tear slid down my face, landing on the journal with a splat, blurring the ink. My focus dropped down to the journal itself, scrolling over my father’s handwriting.
I understand now...
The sentence popped off the page as I felt the book grip me, the picture in my hand fluttering to the floor.
“Nooooo!” I screamed, thrashing against it, but the scene flickered in front of me like it was set on fast forward again, jumpy, choppy, and unclear. Like the dream, I watched my father grab something, his face set with grim fear, shoving the object underneath a stone near the fireplace before I was yanked back, a cry tearing from my lungs, the book spinning me through the darkness and out.
My body flung back into a bag of potatoes, the spuds digging into my spine as the ceiling spun overhead. Shutting my eyes, I took a deep breath.
“Are you okay?” Ash shuffled over to me, his hands touching my face softly.
“Yeah.” I inhaled again, trying to center the rocky waves in my stomach.
“At least this time, you had something to land on,” he scoffed. “Guess we’re having mashed potatoes tomorrow.”
I opened my lids, scowling.
“What? That was funny.” His breathtaking smile was directed at me, his sexual energy throbbing down my legs.
“Ash...” I groaned, feeling the weight of his charm.
“Sorry.” He helped me sit up. “I’m usually pretty good at reining it in... not always easy with you.”
I rubbed my head where a potato had dug into my scalp.
“So what happened?” he asked.
My mouth opened, then shut, my expression twisting into confusion. “I don’t know; this one was bizarre.” I brushed back my hair. I so needed a shower. “I asked where the nectar was now, and I went back to the tunnels. Those pirates were running to the river where there was a boat... and then everything went black. Nothing.”
“What?” Ash tilted his head. “What do you mean nothing? They still had it, right?”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my brow. “I think so.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I did feel something lurking in the shadows, waiting for them.” Killian had said it was taken from them soon after. But something about whatever was waiting in the shadows made me shiver.
“It still would have been recorded in the book if it was with someone.” Ash’s confusion only added to the unsettled feeling I got. “It shouldn’t go blank like that. Not if they still had it.”
“Maybe it was one of those pages Opie used as a dress.” I shrugged one shoulder, not understanding either.
A nerve twitched in Ash’s cheek. “Was that all you saw?”
“Nooo...” I let the syllable drag out. “There was more, but it makes even less sense.”
“Szerelmem, that is becoming the norm with you.”
I scowled at him, but I couldn’t refute the claim.
“It took me to this cottage. It was the same place I dreamed about last night.”
“Wait.” Ash held up his hands. “You dreamed about a place the book took you just now?”
“Yeah.” I shifted back onto my knees. “Why?”
His mouth twisted, shaking his head. “Go on.”
“I’ve never seen it, but I knew my father was staying there. His coat was there, and this journal, with my mom’s picture in it.” My lashes fluttered at the memory. “I’ve never really seen a good picture of her... she was so beautiful. In the picture, she was pregnant with me.” I wiped at my eyes, clearing my voice.
“I’m sorry, Brex.”
“Just strange looking at her, so full of joy, not having a clue what tragedy lay ahead.”
“You know it’s not your fault, right?”
“You know, people have told me that all my life.” I rubbed absently at my chest. “It doesn’t change how I feel. If it wasn’t for me...”
“Brex.”
“They could have had another child, many of me... but for my father, there was only one woman he ever loved. And he lost her.”
“Listen to me.” Ash pulled in his hands, clasping my jaw, turning my head to him. “There’s just one you. You realize how many lives you have already changed? Without you, the man I consider my brother wouldn’t be alive. I’ve known you for a short time, and I already can’t imagine my life with you not in it. And I can guarantee your parents would do it all over again, even for the briefest moment your mother had with you.”
Ash wiped at the tears now flowing down my cheeks; I swallowed the sobs to keep them inside. Seeing my mother opened all my old wounds. Guilt, anger, sorrow. I was pissed I never had even a single moment with her.
Ash’s thumbs stroked my cheeks, his touch calming me down. It was intimate and charged, his eyes locked on mine softly, his sexual energy coiling around me, our eyes connecting.
Not thinking, I tipped forward, my lips finding his. He responded, his mouth soft, warm, and... wrong.
I couldn’t deny a slight spark, but it felt empty.
Ash sensed it, too, his lips twisting playfully as he pulled back, not a shred of rejection or embarrassment.
“You can be mad at him right now, but it’s there. So deeply rooted, it vibrates and weaves through time and space.” His hands cupped my jaw harder. “You can’t run from it.”
“From what?”
He gave me a look. “I knew from the first night he brought you to me. I felt it deep in my bones. You two go beyond mated.”