Page 82 of Fae Farewells

Nate sighed in exasperation. “By birth, yes. She’ll always be your daughter. But Sloane is strong-willed, steadfast… Private. She doesn’t care that you birthed her; she cares when—”

“You worm your way in,” I finished for him.

“It’s a delicate process,” Palmer added.

“Not for the weak,” Stone murmured, glaring at Amelia. “And you continue to show her you’re weak-minded. Being associated with Sloane is dangerous. She’s dangerous. And so are all the enemies that, not only you and your mates collected, but the ones she’s collected too. When you’re weak, she pushes you away. It’s for your own good, though.”

“Otherwise, you’d die trying to keep up,” Vaughn elaborated. “And she would feel like it was her fault.”

Amelia stared at us for a moment, then gave us half a smile. “I’ve never felt so insulted in my life.”

“Now you know how she feels every time you rank your brother above her,” York affirmed. “Every single time his imminent death is more important than the daughter you haven’t seen in two decades. You have to choose one, Amelia. There is no scenario in this lifetime where you get to keep both.”

“She’s more like you than you know,” Nate said to Amelia. “You keep waiting to hear exactly what you want, but you won’t hear it tonight. For that, you’ll have to fight. She’s been waiting for us to be safe before she makes her move, because to Sloane, actions such as those speak louder than words. It’s past time for us to get out of their way.”

Nate gripped Amelia’s hand, pulling her through the portal before she could say anything else. We waited for the shimmer to dim, then collectively let out a sigh of relief.

“I vote we don’t tell her about this,” Palmer suggested.

“For once, I think a little withheld information would be the best course to take,” York agreed.

I rubbed my forehead with my middle finger. “You want to lie to her?”

“No,” the druid responded. “I want to take some of the weight off her shoulders before we tell her we gave her mom sound advice on becoming her friend.”

Vaughn snorted. “That was sound advice?”

“If she can’t figure it out from here…” Stone shrugged. “That’s not our fault.”

Saturday, June 20th

Early Morning

My head ached so badly I couldn’t focus on keeping the bonds closed between my guys and me. It felt like iron brands searing their way through my temples.

Every flare caused me to grind my teeth until I feared they would crack.

Every reprieve had me doubling over as nausea swept through me.

I didn’t know if the agony ebbed or if my tolerance was that quick to adjust, but eventually, the pain led to clarity…

And clarity led to all-consuming anger like I’d never felt before.

“Franklin,” I rasped, watching him shake his head. “Do it.”

“Aside from the excruciating pain—”

“I don’t care,” I growled. “I have six mates to control me. You’re here. The hellhounds are here. So is Pete. I can’t fight her like this. I can control myself enough to not hurt innocent people.”

“What makes you think demonic Sloane is a better option?” he challenged. “At least you have some control in this form.”

Novak pushed my hair away from my face, passing me a glass of water. “What are you asking him to do, Trouble?”

Franklin answered before I could. “She wants me to dive into her mind and fight the presence back while Valano and Vaughn lock bits of her mind away.”

“And that’s a bad idea because?” Novak prompted.

I sighed. “It would leave me defenseless in this body. I would still have two other forms to take, though.”