Chapter 1
Walking down the hall of her childhood home was like sleepwalking through memories that threatened to rip out her bleeding heart. Forgetting the past had been impossible, but she’d managed to move on.
Savon never should have moved back where everything reminded her of the boy who crushed her dreams.
Ignoring her brother’s pleas to move home would have been easy if life hadn’t become so chaotic in San Francisco. Silvertail Ridge offered her a chance at peace. No one there knew of her adventures and strolls into danger.
The small town was the perfect place to fully immerse herself in her art. She could still travel, find new inspiration, and come back to isolate herself from the world.
She had no regrets about moving to San Francisco. Her experiences had been freeing. Savon grew her craft, gained a following for her art, and embraced her magic while learning to wield it to the best of her abilities.
Her powers were a mix of Sylvan Fae and sorcery. Finding training had been nearly impossible.
The only other Sylvan she knew were her mother and brother. Mom had only taught them the basics of communicating with animals and simple nature magic. Savon hadn’t been awakened when she left, so her magic hadn’t reached its potential. And after she was, she was too angry to go back and ask her parents for answers, so she trained herself.
Besides, no sorcerer would train Savon after her power hit her like a tidal wave. They were scared because they couldn’t control their own familiars in her presence. Her father had gone so far as to lock her magic away when she was young. She still heard the voices of entities trapped between planes, spirits no one else saw, and saw the emotions of the people around her through their auras. Since the spells blocking her magic evaporated, her power had been amplified.
Now that her parents were dead and gone, she wished she had gone back to get answers but coming back to Silvertail Ridge was never easy.
Pictures lined the walls. Her, her brother, and their parents. Only Bran was left. And she did miss her brother.
Her gaze was drawn to a photo that threatened to break her apart. She froze, staring into his molten chocolate eyes.
Twelve years ago, the wind blew through the branches of their willow tree. Their haven.
Nate’s even breathing lulled her into peace she rarely found.
Two weeks had passed since she’d last seen him. His college finals had been brutal and he was working his ass off to get to grad school faster so they could run away and start a new life away from Silvertail Ridge.
Nate stirred, nuzzling her neck as his hand covered her heart. “Marry me, Savon.”
Elation erupted. Rolling to face him, she smiled at the man who filled her with love.
His aura shone with shades of white and red, splashed with violet. Love, passion, desire.
“Yes, even if we have to hide it from your father until we can get away.”
“Don’t care about him if I have you.”
“You have me forever.”
He grinned, climbing on top of her, his mouth descending in the sweetest kiss. Happiness shone in his eyes. “Don’t have a ring yet. You’ll have one tonight.”
“Don’t care about a ring,” she whispered, holding his face as she leaned up to take his mouth again.
“Want the world to know you’re mine.” He hopped up and glanced in the direction of his home. “I’ll take you away from here as soon as I’m back. I know where we can go.”
Savon climbed to her feet and took his hands. “Can’t go yet. Graduation is tomorrow. I don’t care about the ring. You’re all I need.”
He pulled her against his body, winding his arms around her. “Two hours. I’ll be back. We’ll leave after the ceremony. I love you.” He stepped away and pulled his pants on.
Fear settled into the pit of her stomach. A familiar voice whispered, “Don’t let him leave.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Stay with me. You can get it another day.”
He shook his head. “Needs to be now.”
“Why now?” she insisted, pulling at his hand.
“If we’re married, Dad can’t argue with my decision.” Nate slipped his sandals on and pulled on a T-shirt before heading down the path.
Pain rushed in with the memory of the last time she saw Nate. Heart thumping, she yanked the frame off the wall and threw the offending memento.
Tears ran down her face as she slid down the opposite wall, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she desperately attempted to shove Nate out of her mind. Too many years wasted on the man who tore her heart out and twisted it to shreds.
Two hours passed. Nate didn’t come for her. By dinner she was frantic. No one knew where he was, and the last place she wanted to go was to his house to ask his father.
Killian hated her.
Savon laid her head against the glass, watching his driveway, waiting for Nate to come home.
He didn’t.
Her door opened, and shades of blue for sadness and gray for worry filled the room as Bran walked in and took a seat next to her. “Still haven’t heard from him?”
She shook her head. “I told him not to go.”
“Why?”
She almost told him that Nate proposed. Almost.
Biting her tongue, she stared out the window. “He needed to go to the city. What if something happened?”
“What could have happened?”
“Don’t know. But he wouldn’t leave and not come back. He—he wouldn’t just disappear. Not without something happening. An accident or something.”
“He wouldn’t abandon you. I’ll see if I can find him.”
“Thanks, Bran.”
He kissed her head and left her alone. She watched him drive away a moment later and spent the rest of the night waiting for Nate or Bran to come with news that never came.
“Savon, are you okay?” It was Nate’s voice, further breaking her shattered reality.
When she finally looked up, she found her brother staring back. “What happened? Did you fall?” Bran demanded.
Shaking her head, she pointed at the shattered glass. Her voice came out a strained cry. “Why would you do that?”
“What?”
“The picture, that fucking picture.”
“What picture?” Concerned, he looked around, then pulled the photo from the mess. “That’s odd. It wasn’t here the other day.”
“Bullshit. How the hell did it get here then?” Savon pushed herself to her feet and gathered the contents of the box. “I don’t want anything to do with that asshole.” She scooted past Bran and dropped the box on the bed.
Magic bubbled up, nearly bursting free with her anger. Usually she could tamp it down, but stress made it difficult. And having Nate shoved in her face was the last thing she needed.
Bran took her shoulders, staring into her eyes. “Hey, Savon, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
She turned back to find his soft brown eyes locked on hers. No reply formed. Hurt and anger stole her words as she stared back.
He pushed his shaggy blond hair off his face. “Honest, I wouldn’t do that to you.” Sincerity stared back with a hint of guilt. Bran knew something, but Savon didn’t pry. He wouldn’t spill until he was ready.
The Roantrees were great at keeping secrets. They grew up in a town of secretive Others. No one shared much about their personal lives, abilities, or anything else. A damned cycle that needed to break.
At least he’d been lucky. Bran never inherited their father’s sorcerer abilities, only their mother’s Sylvan magic.
In the last couple years he’d been changed to a werewolf. He told her part of the story. Bran pulled some asshole over. The bastard shot and left him for dead. Another werewolf changed him to save his life. He never told her who.
A tiny part of her hoped she could find her parents’ secrets in the house. There had to be some clue, some hint. Her last conversation with her mother seemed to be a plea for her to find the answers.
Thinking about it only made her angry. Why not just tell her what she was supposed to find?
Savon cast a glare over her shoulder as Bran followed her into the room.
“Sav, talk to me, Sis. Why does one picture of Nate throw you into a tailspin?”
Tears filled her eyes as she remembered back to the day her world fell apart. Nate’s father wouldn’t tell her what happened to Nate—wouldn’t say if he lived or died. After a month, she moved to San Francisco, expecting Nate to come for her if he was alive.
Three weeks passed with no news. Savon had started to believe Nate was dead.
Then she learned she was pregnant. The spark of life gave her something to hold on to. A piece of her love would live on. She clung to the hope her baby promised.
A week later, Nate started haunting her dreams. Another week passed before his apparition appeared before her in the shower.
Standing under the water, she felt his presence. Her eyes opened, hope dancing through her. His ghost stood out of reach, such a haunted look on his face.
“Nate?”
“I love you, Sav.” He faded away.
Everything in the bathroom started to vibrate.
Glass broke.
Voices rose above everything.
She fell to her knees as pain ripped through her abdomen with a rush of magic more powerful than anything she’d ever felt. Blood filled the tub as she lost the one thing worth holding onto.
Savon strangled back a cry. The bastard came back to town and picked up his friendship with Bran, but never contacted her. Not once. Bran couldn’t tell her why, only that Nate was sorry. And sorry wasn’t good enough when he shattered her entire world. She’d fallen so deep into depression she barely climbed out of the pit.
She pinned Bran with a scowl. “He tore my heart out and you’re still his best friend. I can’t thank all the deities enough that he’s in New York and nowhere near here. He couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye.”
Shoving a big hand through his hair, he sighed. “I tried to tell you, he’s sorry. He couldn’t come to you. You don’t understand.”
Understanding wouldn’t change a damned thing. He didn’t give a shit about her. So why waste her time? Talking about the bastard would only throw open the chest full of memories she wanted to stay buried. It was bad enough her imagination conjured him every chance it had.
Her lips twisted in a sneer. “Fuck him. Don’t give a single fuck about him. I’m done with Nathan Taggert. Asshole can stay in New York, far from here, and I’ll be fine.”
She couldn’t push down the anger, the agony, all the emotions that rolled in when she gave Nate too much thought. The pictures on the dresser started to rattle and vibrate.
Bran walked over and took her shoulders in his hands. “Hey, relax.”
A hysterical laugh escaped. “Easier said than done.”
The memory of the bastard haunted her thoughts, her dreams. All these years and she couldn’t shake him to save her life. He was so ingrained in her soul she couldn’t banish him from her head. And he never made a single effort to come for her.
“Look, I’m around the corner. Call me if you need anything. Even if it’s just to talk. You can rage at me about that dirty, filthy bastard all you want.” He squeezed her shoulder. “And honest, the picture wasn’t there the last time I checked.”
She believed him. However, he was hiding something. Unease set in as she searched his face.
“Fine. Get going. I need time to make the space mine.” Which meant casting wards and unpacking the things she had in her car when she drove up. Not that there was much, but she wanted to banish any thought of Nate, and her brother couldn’t help on that front.
She watched him walk away as an apparition of Nate walked toward her. Crazy as it was, he couldn’t be there. He was a top surgeon clear across the country. Agonizing sadness filled his deep brown eyes.
Her mind had aged him. He’d filled out, grown a bit more, and his taste in clothes matured to business appropriate.
A sigh escaped as she reflexively reached out to brush a lock of his dark hair off his face. Tears leaked down her face as she turned away. Seeing him like this wouldn’t break her heart so much if he were truly a ghost. But no, he was alive. Bastard chose to forget his proposal and the happy life they were supposed to have.
Her phone rang and she grabbed it. She failed at keeping the exasperation out of her tone. “Yes?”
“I know you’ll be too busy to feed yourself properly. So I’m taking you to dinner tonight,” Bran announced.
Anxiety crept up. “Seriously, not necessary.”
“Yeah, it is. I’ll be there at seven. Trust me. You don’t want me to cook for you, and that’s your other option.”
She couldn’t help laughing. Bran was sweet. “Is that a threat?”
“A promise. And wear something snazzy. Love ya.”
“You too.” She hung up and went back to the box.