Chapter 23

Shay

I sit in the booth next to Jayce. The lightbulb above our table burned out, making it dimmer than it usually is at Twins.

I nurse on my glass of wine as my thoughts travel back over the last weeks living with Jayce.

I’ve barely scratched the surface of the rabbit hole I’d sunk into when my attention’s yanked back to reality by the entrance of a woman.

At first, I can’t explain why my heart’s suddenly in my throat. I glance at Jayce out of the corner of my eye, before locking eyes with Priscilla’s, whose back is to her. Cill lifts her nose and sniffs the air. Like a bolt of thunder, we both gasp at the realization that our birth mother just stepped inside.

My mind races, emotions swirl, and I struggle to maintain composure. Damian falls to his knees at the woman’s feet like gravity quit working for him momentarily. I turn my head at the odd gesture.

My shock doesn’t allow me to hear what he’s saying to this woman who had been a mystery until recently.

I have a mother. I have a father. The two people who loved and raised me.

Finding out that my parents didn’t make wild, passionate love one night and conceive me took some time to comprehend. With the revelation of my adoption, on top of finding out that my best friend was, in fact, my long-lost twin sister, I’m spinning through a maze of secrets and truths.

My gaze lingers on the woman who bore a perfect combination of me and Cill’s features—except for the bottled blonde hair cascading in gentle waves. Her piercing green eyes hold a universe of stories. There’s a distinctive scar tracing a path of resilience across her neck, and up along her cheek where it grazes the corner of her eye.

Why now? Are the Fates toying with us? Even in this moment of potential reunion, we remain worlds apart because of the protection spell Willow cast.

I stare harder at my mother. It’s not rude when she can’t see me. She appears older than the demigods in Jayce’s herd. As if she’s aged like a human instead of as a child of Helios.

She carries the weight of her years heavily upon her shoulders. She is neither too thin nor curvy like either of us. It’s the eyes, the nose, the shape of her mouth that captivates me. The blend of my sister and I validates our connection despite the invisible barrier keeping us apart.

What am I feeling? Longing? An ache to bridge the gap between us. To ask all the questions keeping me up at night regarding the mysteries of my identity. Yet, intertwined amidst the longing is fear—fear of what revelations her story will bring. Fear of what’s brought her into our world—now. Shortly after, our father’s henchmen found us.

I don’t remember falling into Cill’s arms, but they hold me like she’s my anchor. My tears and snot soak the sleeve of her jumper. My sleeve’s every bit as wet from her own similar meltdown.

The discussion between Tara and “Nik”, as she calls him, is a welcome distraction.

The way she stands up to him—I just know we’re going to be great friends. I can be her friend. Jayce has never stuck his dick in her pussy.

Willow’s snarky comments at my back put my heart back where it belongs. I turn around and hug her, only the sight of her starts the waterworks again.

She puts her hands on hips. “Okay, who do I need to kill?”

I throw my head back and laugh.