A knock on the door finally breaks me away from Sam. Who is it? His mother? My parents? His grandfather? Everyone?
Evelyn, seriously, calm the fuck down, Eliza mutters, trying to sound annoyed, but I can tell she's a little worried about my panic.
"Do you want me to get it?" he asks. I lift my head to sniff the air and I catch a hint of my parents' scents lingering outside. I shake my head before placing a kiss on his cheek.
"I want you to spread the oleo and seasoning on the rolls now that they're warm and then put them back in on a lower setting," I tell him. "Do you mind?" He grins in response and shakes his head. I hear another knock, more tentative this time.
"Go," he nudges, kissing me quickly before turning me towards the doorway.
I quickly find myself in front of the big red door, ignoring Eliza's grumbles of how long this is taking. I open the door to see my parents practically holding their breaths. They both look me up and down and release huge sighs of relief. Normally, my mother would have ambushed me in a giant hug by now; what is causing her to be so hesitant with me?
After she, once again, verifies that I have no visible injuries on my body, her eyes meet mine.
She looks better than I expected, I hear Ophelia, my mother's wolf, comment gratefully. She sounds as if she wants to say more, though.
But, I should still give her space, I know, I know, my mother responds sadly. Her arms twitch as the urge to wrap me up in them overwhelms her. My heart breaks for a moment at the thought of my own mother stopping herself from hugging me.
She's listening to us, her wolf tells her. I glance at my father, then, whose thoughts are more difficult to peak into.
I realize I haven't really said or done anything since opening the door. They know I have experienced a life's worth of trauma in a very short period of time and I'm the one who could fall apart at any given moment. They're clearly taking my lead on this one.
The problem is, they've been through a lot, too. I can't imagine everything they've been through since we were separated. My mother was on the brink of death when we found her and I'm not sure she will want to talk about anything she experienced; I'm not sure I'd even want to hear it. I just want to take their lead on this.
I suck it up, though, and instead of making them wait any longer, I attack them both in a warm embrace. My mother instantly bursts into tears and nuzzles her face into my hair. My father strokes both of our backs comfortingly as we all just cry. No one knows exactly what to say. What is there to say?
They won't want to hear my unnecessary apologies. And I surely don't want to hear theirs.
"Tell me everything," my mother chokes out finally, pushing me away slightly. It's as if something breaks inside of her. Whatever she had holding herself together falls apart with those three words and she begins babbling so fast I can hardly keep up. "Evander kind of told us what happened here, but I want to know everything. Have you made friends? Do you have things you like to do? Do you like your new house? I cannot wait for you to tell me everything about your mate."
The more she talks, the more she turns into her old self. The worried, traumatized woman that stood before me a minute ago has melted away and left me with this gushing, invasive personality that I always loved.
"I haven't met too many people, yet," I tell them. "But I've made a few good friends so far." I think of Connor and Penelope, who I haven't seen in what feels like an incredibly long time.
"Evander's mother showed me the garden you're helping her with," my father comments, pride in his tone.
"It's been a welcome distraction," I tell him. "I've been watching movies, too," I add cheekily. In reality, I've maybe watched three movies in total, since realizing I had the ability.
I escort my parents inside and lead them to the kitchen so they can greet Sam. He smiles brilliantly at us as we enter, finishing up the last of the rolls.
"Good evening, Katye, Isaac," he greets my parents.
"Hi Evander," my mother beams, "did you make dinner?" She eyes the meat and beans on the counter. I can tell her mouth is watering. Sam chuckles, shaking his head and wiping his hands on a cloth.
"No way," he admits, "Evie has been slaving away all day since she decided to have everyone over." He reaches his hand out to squeeze mine before pulling dishes down for our meal. "It's taken every bit of control I have not to eat it all now. I'm surprised she left me alone in here." My dad chuckles and presses a kiss to my mother's temple before leaving her side.
"I can relate to that," he tells my mate. My father begins grabbing dishes without direction and carrying them into our dining room. Sam chuckles and follows him out of the room, leaving my mother and I alone.
I bite my lip, contemplating if I really want to ask the question that's been bothering me since I woke up after finding them. "You guys...like Sam, right?" I ask my mother. Her eyes find mine and she glances at the doorway to the dining room before looking back at me.
"He's your mate, Evelyn," my mother answers carefully. My stomach churns. "I believe that he loves you and wants only what is best for you. I can see that he makes you really happy." She pauses to offer me a proud smile. "I think he is a wonderful man and I like him very much." I smile to myself, feeling slightly relieved. I was really worried after Sam told them about how he treated me under the curse.
"He's everything you told me he would be," I tell her, trying to hide my grin but failing miserably. "And more."
As if to prove my point, Sam's voice pops into my head to remind me that he loves me as I hear him and my father laughing loudly from the dining room.
"So, I hear you've been making friends?" I question, leaning onto the counter and shooting her what I hope is a relaxed smile.
"Marianne is very welcoming," my mother laughs. "She knew my parents before they passed away. She has a lot of spare time on her hands and we have a few things in common, so she's been helping us get acquainted."
"She's really good at that," I comment, remembering how helpful and understanding she was when I first arrived. "Do you guys like it here?" I ask the heavy question before I can stop myself. I really hope they like it here. I couldn't bear the thought of them leaving.
"We're not going anywhere, Evelyn," my mother assures me. "We do like it here, but even if we didn't. We would never leave you. You are the most important thing in the world to us. Wherever you go, we'll follow."
♥♥♥
"So, how are you feeling, Evelyn?"
My breath catches in my throat and my hand freezes, halfway from my mouth to my plate. I glance around the table, noting five pairs of eyes watching me carefully. Marianne picked a lovely time to address the question everyone seems too uncomfortable to ask me.
I thought I was the only one who felt the awkward pauses or noticed the eyes lingering on me gently, observing me, as if I could shatter like glass before their very eyes. It appears everyone is very aware of how strange the aura of the room feels. No one seems to know what to do about it, though.
You don't even know what to do about it, Eliza points out.
I can tell that everyone is worried about me. Sam was doing a great job of hiding it before, but his muscles stiffen as he awaits my answer. I'm taking too long, now.
"I'm tired," I say simply. It's not a lie, but I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say. Sam has done a wonderful job distracting me from the burdens that try to infiltrate my mind. When I let myself think about it, though, I feel incredibly overwhelmed.
I did love you.
I shake the thought away, careful not to shake visibly so as to not worry Sam.
I look at my parents, who are trying to decide what to say to me.
How long has it been, really? Since our lives were turned upside down. Thirty days?
Only thirty days and they sometimes look at me as if they don't even know who I am anymore. My father, the one who seemed to always know what to say, opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out.
"I miss you guys."
It takes me a moment to realize that the quiet, cracking, broken voice that speaks is mine.
"I didn't mean to disappear," I promise them, "I just...miss everything being simple...simpler."
I don't notice the tears on my cheeks until Sam wipes them away and pulls me close to him.
"Things are going to be simpler now," Sam promises me, running a hand over my hair.
"A lot has happened, Evelyn," Samuel's smooth voice informs me, as if I didn't very well know the events that have occurred around me. "It is likely that a lot more will happen, but we all know that you are strong and brave and can handle anything on your own. But, you won't be on your own. We'll be here with you."
"We want to help, Evie," my mother whispers, "my wolf can feel your turmoil. But, we can't help if we don't know what you're feeling."
Confused, Eliza mutters, you don't know how you feel half the time.
So, I tell my family that. I tell them that everything is pretty overwhelming and I'm really not sure where to start sorting through it all.
"Well, just pick something and we'll go from there," Marianne suggests. I close my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts.
What will be the easiest thing to talk about right now?
"Why did you never tell me I was a Cosmic?"
I hear the clatter of silverware before my eyes even open. When they do, I take in Samuel apparently choking on a bite of food. He clears his throat for a moment before glancing at everyone around the table.
"Oh, I'm the only one who didn't know this?" he asks after composing himself. "Don't mind me, carry on," he mutters, dabbing his mouth with his serviette.
"What's a Cosmic?" Marianne asks. She appears amused by Samuel's reaction.
My father takes the opportunity to give a brief explanation of what the cosmic talent is. He also notes how rare it is and that only two people are recorded to ever possess the gift.
"And you're a Cosmic, too?" Marianne asks, furrowing her eyebrows at me. "How many talents is that, now?"
"Six," I confirm.
"And you said no one is recorded to have more than four?" I nod my head again. "Who all knows about this?"
"About me being a Cosmic or having more than four talents?" I ask her.
Does it matter? Eliza asks me. I ignore her and focus on Marianne.
"Both, I guess," she shrugs.
"We're the only ones that know that she's a Cosmic as far as I know," Sam tells his mother, "But anyone could know that she has at least five talents now that she's shifted; that was kept a secret beforehand." Marianne nods, digesting the information.
"Maybe we keep your sixth talent under wraps for now," Samuel suggests. "What deities have you communicated with?"
"Only Tagara," I respond. "She came to me to warn me about my shift. I haven't talked to anyone since."
"You can just...reach out to them?" my father asks. He looks at me with the same inquisitive look that Connor always has in his eyes.
"I don't know, honestly," I tell him carefully. I don't want to see the disappointment when he realizes I don't have the answers to his questions. "I haven't really tried."
"You should read Estelle's journals," Samuel suggests before filling his mouth with a large bite of his bread. It is my turn to be taken aback as I stare at Samuel.
"Estelle kept journals?" I ask.
Are you seriously asking that? Eliza chides.
Well, that's not what I'm so shocked about, butthead, I mutter back.
"And they lasted this long?" I elaborate.
"I guess so," Samuel confirms.
"Darius had them," my father chimes in. "He thought she may have written about hybrids, but as she communicated with the gods more, she began to write in a language that no one can understand. We think its Deolos, the Gods' Tongue. Darius's theory is that only another Cosmic could read it."
At the mention of Darius, the whole mood in the room shifts. We have been careful to avoid discussing him since everyone arrived. I don't know what Sam has told everyone about our encounter, if anything. Obviously, everyone knows that Darius is dead and that I killed him. But, do they know about how he tore out my heart and shred it into a million pieces beforehand?
I shift in my seat uncomfortably, not really wanting to think about Darius, but knowing that I can't avoid the topic forever.
Sam, on the other hand, appears to be fuming. I can practically feel his body temperature raise as he flushes with rage.
I build up the courage to glance at Marianne across the table. How does she feel about me killing her nephew? Does she wish I had spared him? Allowed him a chance at reform instead? Or does she realize how far gone he truly was? Just as I did when he looked at me with that feral look in his eyes.
Marianne's eyes are downcast, looking at her mostly empty plate. It's nearly impossible to tell what she is feeling. Guilt wells up inside me and I turn my gaze to my own plate.
"Evelyn, I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but-"
"-Mother," Sam snaps, halting Marianne's sentence. He follows the curt word with a low growl. The reaction almost makes me flinch. I've never heard him speak to his mother that way. He must notice my reaction because his voice is much softer when he speaks again. "I told you not to ask her about-"
"-it's okay, Sam," I mumble, placing my hand on his leg gently in an attempt to relax his tense muscles. "I have to talk about it eventually."
"But it doesn't have to be now," he argues. I can hear the pain in his voice, see it in his eyes. I feel it every time he catches me thinking about what transpired just a few days ago. He's the most worried about me, I just know it. And he has every right to be.
"If not now, then when?" I whisper, glancing at Marianne and nodding for her to continue her question. She hesitates before deciding to ask away.
"What did he...say? Before..." she trails off. Before he died? Before I killed him?
"He broke Evie's heart into a million pieces," Sam mutters angrily, grabbing onto my hand and rubbing circles in my palm. This is a new way for him to let out his frustration, but I won't question it.
I love you, ae cale, I tell him through the link. I can tell you're hurting. I'm so sorry.
"He blamed me for his parents' death," I tell Marianne. "He said they were obsessed with wanting to protect the first hybrid. That's why they turned to dark magic; he blamed the hybrid for the accident."
"Samuel, you said you knew more about that," Marianne comments, looking to her mate's father.
"Just a little over a hundred years ago, my sister had a vision about you, Evelyn," Samuel begins. "She told me that the first hybrid to ever be born would be the key to our pack's future. She also said that there were legends and stories that the hybrid would be threatened."
"She saw Darius threaten me?"
"Well, not exactly," he answers. "She saw you and sensed danger around you. But, essentially, yes; she saw that your life was in danger. It was Geoffrey who managed to figure out that your mother would be blessed with carrying the hybrid and he found her mate's location."
"Samuel came to me when I was twelve years old," my mother picks up the story. "I was orphaned at the time, living with friends of my family. He didn't tell me about you, but he did tell me about my mate. He brought me to Silver Pearl to meet him." She glances at my father then, smiling wide and taking his hand in hers. "What you didn't tell me, Samuel, was that he wasn't even alive at that point." The whole table chuckles at her faux irritation.
Of all the stories my parents told me, the story of how they met is my favorite. But, I've never heard it told like this. With my mother waiting around for over thirty years before they finally crossed paths.
My father's favorite part of the story was when he got to tell me about all the times he noticed her without her noticing him.
"If she had just looked to her left before she went inside the book shop, she would have seen me, and she would have known," he would always say. "But she looked right, and she saw a toad instead. And you know what she did?"
"She kissed the toad!" I exclaimed back every time. I always made a gagging noise and stuck my tongue out in disgust, which only amused my mother.
"And I knew right then and there, if that woman could love a toad, then she could love me!"
That was always my favorite part of the story, too. Then, he would go on to tell me how he didn't work up the courage to follow her into the shop. Instead, he walked right past and out to a meadow where people would spend their days in the sun.
It was after maybe an hour of sulking in some tall grass, that he finally looked up and realized that my mother was there, across the meadow, pretending to read the book she had just purchased from the book shop.
"The sun was shining down on her like she was the only girl in the clearing," my father would say dreamily as he recounted the tale an endless number of times. "And she was already staring at me, just waiting for me to notice her."
"I smelled him as he walked past the shop," my mother would explain. "I followed his scent to the clearing, but didn't really know how to approach him when he looked so sad. I didn't realize he was upset about me."
Never, not once, did she tell me that she had been waiting to pick up that scent for decades. I'm not sure why it feels like such a big deal, but it is.
"Geoffrey had told me that he believed that Estelle started to lose her mind after she saw someone threatening the hybrid's life," Samuel is continuing with the story, pulling me from my memories. "He theorized that she was trying to figure out who, how, and why so that she could warn people to protect you. I asked Marianne's sister, Carissa, to help me keep an eye on Katye and keep you safe."
"Did Darius know that?" I ask, though I know the answer. I want Samuel to tell me otherwise, though. I want him to tell me that Darius did know all about keeping my mother safe because she would carry the hybrid. I want Samuel to tell me that Darius lied when he said he never pretended to love me. I want to be told that Darius knew all along and was plotting this from the start. I truly think it would hurt less.
"He knew we wanted to protect the hybrid, but he had no idea how Katye was involved," Samuel confirms. "Carissa and her mate thought it would put Darius in danger if they told him too much, but I asked him and he said he didn't want to know what we were doing. It turns out, we only turned him into the danger that started everything..."
With those words, everything is confirmed and the weight of his betrayal wraps around me all over again as if I am hearing it for the first time. My mother's worried eyes question this change, and I know I have to tell them what Darius said.
"When I asked why now..." I trail off, "I asked why he feigned love for me-" My throat closes up, my voice cracks, and it takes every bit of strength I have to swallow the giant lump that rises in my gullet.
Sam squeezes my hand gently, raising it to his lips to press a feathery kiss to my knuckles.
"He told her that he never pretended," Sam continues for me. "He told her that he did love her, but he never expected her to turn out to be the hybrid."
The gasps from my parents are enough to get the tears flowing freely down my cheeks. My mother makes a noise that I can only describe as heartbreak.
"And he still did this to her?" my father asks, his voice strong, but weaker than normal. He looks at Sam. "To you? His own family?"
"I think he thought that cursing me was supposed to protect me," Sam responds with a shake of his head. "He told me he tried to keep me out of it. He said his plan was for me to fully reject her; that's probably how he intended to keep me out of it. If I rejected her, it wouldn't have harmed me if he killed her."
Marianne's sniffles don't go unnoticed by me, but I can't bring myself to look at her as I recount the next part.
"He told me it would never be enough," I tell the table. "His love for me would never be enough to make up for what I did to his parents. He said I would never be enough to make up for what I am."
"Oh, Evelyn," Samuel whispers in shock. I need to just finish the story so we can move on.
"After that, I couldn't take anymore," I tell them, looking at my plate and allowing my tears to soak the dinner roll I only picked at. "I shifted into my dragon and ended it before he could beg too much."
The table is silent for several long moments. It's clear that no one really knows what to say. I don't think anyone really anticipated Darius's hatred going this deep. Just like me, they all must have assumed that his motive was simple. The general consensus was that he must have known my secret all along and was just planning his revenge while carelessly pretending to love me. It's so much more damaging to know that he can still execute such a horrific plan on someone he loved like his own daughter.
As easy as it would be for me to believe that he never loved me, I know it's not true. He did love me. He proved it to me time and time again. The happiness in his eyes when I drew pictures of us together as a child wasn't faked. Darius was the first person to show me kindness and support when my peers tormented me because of my mixed blood. He was the only person who was able to make me feel like I wasn't a mistake.
But, I was the biggest mistake to him all along.
Silent tears stream down my cheeks as memory after memory flashes through my mind. I am suddenly reminded of every single time that I ever felt like Darius loved me. Sam's arms wrap around me as tight as he can manage, trying to give me any sense of comfort.
Finally, Marianne's quiet, feeble voice breaks the silence as she mumbles words I never thought she would say.
"Thank you."