37. Alina

"Yes, the breeding compound,"King Cain says, confirming Orcus's statement. "There were twelve Offerings that year from Nightingale Village. Only two went on to Monsters Night. The others were sent to the compound to create more ideal mates."

King Cain clicks his little device, bringing up more information. But I'm too lost in his statements—as well as Orcus's mental comments—to read the words on the screen.

My sister went to a breeding compound? To create… create more… potential Offerings. Is that… is that as bad as I think it is?I wonder, feeling deathly ill.

Flame's arm flexes around me, his voice suddenly in my head as he tells me it's going to be okay.

But nothing about this is okay.

My sister…

But how…? How did she…?

I don't understand.

This doesn't make any sense.

I… I…

"Indeed, that's where Alina and her sister were made, too," King Cain says, the mention of my name bringing me back to the conversation. "They were placed with humans in the village to be raised with greater care, as their genetics marked them as ideal Offerings."

"This is what I was telling you about last week with the placement program—ideal Offerings are given to certain humans for child-rearing," Queen Helia adds. "Some of those humans are later rewarded for their efforts as well by being given access to the Elite City."

"Yes, it seems that happened with Alina's guardians." Another screen pops up that shows my parents.

Except… except they're saying these are not my real parents. But my guardians.

"Their village death day was a little over a decade ago. They now live here in the city." The image he shows is of them on some sort of patio, dressed in similar attire from Monsters Night.

"I see." Orcus's tone gives nothing away, but I feel him in my mind, caressing my thoughts and assessing my emotional state.

I have no idea what he finds inside me because I'm not sure how… or what… I'm feeling.

Dizzy? Yes.

Nauseous? Also yes.

Confused? Absolutely.

Angry? A little. Or maybe… maybe a lot.

My parents faked their deaths?I wasn't even ten years old when they died. Serapina was only eight.

"As I told you, we don't govern the villages. The Elite families do," Queen Helia murmurs. "Whether we agree with the practice or not is irrelevant. But I will say it has worked well, as evidenced by your mating Alina Everheart."

Orcus says nothing. However, I can hear him conceding the point in his mind. But he hates that he agrees. Because nothing about this feels right to him.

And not just because I'm starting to scream in my own mind about the injustice of this insanity.

I was created in a compound.

My parents are alive… and they're not my real parents.

Sera is in the same compound now.

Being bred.

And creating…

More ideal mates.

Fae, I'm going to be sick. This is all too much. Too overwhelming.

"If she's in the compound, how did she send Alina a note?" Reaper asks, his question making me freeze. "I assumed she had mates who managed to magically place it in Alina's rooms. But it sounds like that's not the case at all."

"What note?" Queen Helia asks, causing my stomach to churn even more.

Flame squeezes me close. It's all right, little panther. We need this information to find your sister. Something isn't right.

While I agree with him, I… I still don't feel well. The world is starting to spin around me. Everything is upside down. I?—

Reaper's voice interrupts my thoughts as he repeats the note aloud. But all I hear is my sister's words in my head, uttered in her voice.

There's an Elite City. Find an old map, Lina. Look for Chicago. I'll be waiting.

"That's how your mate knew about Chicago," Queen Helia says.

"Yes." Orcus's reply is flat.

"But it doesn't make any sense." Queen Helia's statement is one I've been repeating in my mind for what feels like hours but has really only been minutes.

It's also not the same.

Because she's talking about the letter and I'm thinking about this situation.

"It's not only impossible for Serapina to have sent that letter, but it also doesn't serve a logical purpose," Queen Helia goes on. "Alina wouldn't have been able to get to the Elite City, even if she found a map mentioning the old Chicago name."

"If such a map even exists," King Cain mutters. "I haven't heard that name in over three centuries."

"Exactly," Queen Helia says. "So what purpose did this note serve?"

"We originally assumed it was to prompt Alina to rebel, to gain more entries into the Offering selection pool," Orcus says. "But I'm starting to realize that can't be the reason because it sounds like all the humans are selected based on genetics, not a random luck of the draw."

"Correct. Duke Nightingale always picks the Offerings ahead of the ceremony," Queen Helia replies, her words a punch to the gut.

Because that means I wasn't chosen randomly. I was chosen purposely.

And so was my sister.

"The Day of the Choosing is just an opportunity for the Village Viscount to assert authority and inspire fear," King Cain adds. "One of the former Nightingale Dukes believed fear was an excellent motivator to ensure the villagers cooperated and remained obedient."

"Again, it works," Queen Helia says. "Whether we agree or not?—"

"Is irrelevant," Orcus finishes for her. "Yes, I've gathered that you don't actually care how the humans treat each other in this realm. It's an excellent way to disregard your responsibility as the higher species."

Queen Helia frowns. "We choose not to interfere with fate."

"Yet you profit from that same fate and reward the humans responsible for providing said fate," Orcus drawls. "But I'm not here for a moral lesson on right and wrong. We're here for our mate and her sister. You've mentioned Serapina is in the Nightingale Compound. I know that's near here. Where exactly is it?"

King Cain and Queen Helia say nothing.

"If you tell me we can't interfere with the Nightingale breeding process, then I suppose we will begin a conversation on moral ethics," Orcus says. "And as a God, I will win that discussion."

His mind tells me that conversation and discussion don't mean talking. He means power. He will fight for my sister's freedom because it's the right thing to do.

And he'll destroy a lot of infrastructure in place to make way for that battle.

For me,I marvel. He's saying he'll destroy this world… for me.

It's… a heady realization, one that has my heart skipping several beats in response. Because Orcus could follow through on his threat, and he will if Queen Helia and King Cain don't start speaking soon.

Reaper's mind tells me he's more than ready to watch Orcus in action, and he's prepared to fight alongside him.

While Flame has already decided he'll shift to protect me while the other two go to work.

These fae… they're everything. My everything.

King Cain's jaw ticks, his gaze meeting Queen Helia's on the screen. Then he pulls up another image with my sister's name scrawled across the top.

Serapina Everheart.

Nightingale Compound.

Second Floor.

Room 37.

Genetic Markers…

My mind skims over a series of codes, none of them making any sense, and lands on the photo beneath it.

I blink.

Then frown at the redhead with hazel eyes on the screen.

"That's not my sister," I blurt out, interrupting whatever King Cain was just saying—something about needing to go with Orcus to find out more about the letter.

But I don't even care about what that means or what he's implying.

Nor do I care about conversational etiquette.

Because that woman isn't my sister. "That's her name. But if that's supposed to be a photo of her, then that's not Sera's file because that isn't my sister."

I picture my sister in my mind, trying to show my mates what she looks like. Because I need them to hear me, to understand that this woman is not Serapina.

"She's… she's not my sister," I say again, even dizzier than before.

The world seems to be blurring before my eyes as I picture Sera. Her blonde hair. Bright blue eyes. Gentle smile. Petite physique that rivals my own.

I close my eyes, willing her into existence.

"Alina," I hear her say.

It's all so real.

Like she's standing right beside me.

I sigh, frustrated that my mates haven't replied. And irritated by the screen depicting a different woman.

Actually, no, I'm furious.

All this information. All these lies about the Day of the Choosing, the unnecessary stress of the ceremony, the fact that my parents are not really my parents, that they faked their deaths and left me to grieve with Sera.

To create monster mates.

Everything… everything is for Monsters Night.

This world… it's a horrible place. I want to leave. For my mates to whisk me away to their home world, where humans are not subjected to such hideous fates.

But I need to find my sister first.

And that means opening my eyes and reengaging with this conversation. To demand that this King Cain tell me where to find Serapina.

My spine straightens, my mouth opening to issue an order as my eyes flutter open.

Only for that order to die on my next breath as I stare into the familiar eyes of my sister.

She's gaping at me.

Which makes me gape at her.

"Are you real?" she whispers.

"What?" I ask, glancing around the garden we appear to be in. Did I fall and bump my head? I wonder. How…?

"Alina," she says, making me realize I actually did hear her voice my name once before. Because she really was standing next to me when she said it. "Are you real?"

"Yeah," I tell her. "I… I think so?"

Unless this is a dream.

A very realistic, very messed-up dream.

Sera takes a tentative step forward, her hand lifting to brush my arm. When her palm makes contact with my skin, her eyes widen. "Oh my monsters," she breathes, yanking me closer. "You're here. You're really here!"

Suddenly, she's hugging me, her strength surrounding me in a way that can't be a dream. Because I can feel her.

"Sera…" I whisper, my eyes falling closed.

"Lina," she whispers back, squeezing me harder.

I embrace her in kind, thrilled to feel her in my arms again.

My sister.

My family.

My Sera.

But something… something isn't right.

It's an intrinsic itch inside my mind that keeps me from thoroughly enjoying the moment. I'm missing something.

No. Not something.

Someones.

My mates.My eyes fly open again, my sister's light hair blending with the garden around us. I can't feel my mates…