As dinner winds down and House members drift off, Alivia touches my shoulder and inclines her head toward the door. My heart rate immediately skyrockets into my throat, my palms sweat, and I start an internal lecture about not making an ass out of myself again.

I follow Alivia out the door and slowly we start walking over the grounds.

“I hope they all weren’t too overbearing,” Alivia says with a little smile.

I smile too, shaking my head. “They were just fine. I really like Elle, and Leigh. Even Christian, I think.”

She laughs at that.

“But, I don’t know that Ian is ever going to like me much,” I add, sobering my tone.

Alivia sighs. Her eyes wander over the property, as if searching for words to form an explanation. “Ian is…stubborn. He gets kind of set in his ways and a change of mind isn’t easy for him.”

I bite my lower lip, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “Not that I care if he likes me, because honestly, I really don’t. But is it just because of…our first conversation?”

She looks over at me. “In part.”

But her eyes are holding back so much information.

“What’s the other part?” I ask.

She offers a sad smile. “We’ll get to that later.”

A white gazebo comes into view and Alivia heads for it. Two cute swings hang from the edges, looking out over the river. Alivia sinks onto one, so I sit too, a large gap between us.

“I’m really glad you have a brother,” she says through the comforting dark. “I was an only child, and it was lonely. I always wanted siblings.”

“Eshan can be a punk sometimes,” I say with a huff. “But I love him. Even though we came to our parents in very different ways, from different parts of the world, we still get each other.”

Alivia nods.

She’s quiet, and I can feel the thoughts rolling through her head. Digging through the past. Sorting through the present.

“I’d like to know,” I finally say when she says nothing. “About the beginning. The…circumstances leading up to me becoming a Pierce.”

Alivia bites her lower lip, just as I did a minute ago.

Maybe we’re more alike than I realized.

“I guess it starts with my beginning,” she says. Her eyes fall to her lap, where her fingers lace together. “My mom grew up in Mississippi. She was here in Silent Bend, working for the summer after her first year of college. She met my father one night and they bonded. It was just a one-night thing, though. Their paths never crossed again. My mother was going to school in Colorado; she wanted to become a veterinarian. So at the end of the summer, she went back, and a few weeks later, realized she was pregnant with me.”

She’s barely even begun, but already she’s making my heart ache for her.

“She never told Henry about me,” Alivia says. She looks up, her eyes looking over the river, but not really seeing anything. “She was determined to do this on her own. And she did. She was a great mother, more than I probably deserved.” She smiles, her eyes going soft. “But it was hard. She dropped out of school and worked at the same diner my entire life. She’d work these crazy long hours, just to pay the bills. We lived in five different tiny apartments over my life. She was always so stressed.”

She swallows, her eyes falling back to her lap.

“But I didn’t really mind. I told myself that material things didn’t matter, and really, I was okay with it all. But I felt kind of guilty, you know? Like, because I came along, I held her back.” She gives this little shrug.

“I’d been dating this boy most of my senior year of high school, but we broke up two weeks before graduation. So, when I met this guy at the end of summer break, and he was so sweet and attentive, I jumped in to try to patch myself back together.”

She grows very still. Very quiet.

“It wasn’t fair of me, but I’d always judged my mother a little bit, for getting pregnant when she was still just a kid, had no idea what she was really doing.” Her voice grows tight, her voice a little hoarse. “And there I was, even younger than she was, pregnant. And I didn’t know a thing about the father.”

My own throat grows tight. I blink five times fast.

No one knows. No one has known who my father is.

And here’s the account, from my own mother’s lips, about him.

“I was scared out of my mind,” Alivia continues. “But I was going to do it. I was going to raise you. Mom was going to help me. She had done it, and I had turned out happy and healthy, so I was determined I could do it, too.”

Emotion thickens her voice. She stops talking and the thickness of the air doubles.

“And then she died,” I say. My eyes drift back toward the family graveyard. To where I stood before her tomb.

Alivia nods. A single tear slips down her face.

“I was wrecked,” she says. “She was walking home from work. This girl…she was on her phone, she ran the light.” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t… I didn’t know what to do. My mom was all I had. The only family I knew. I kind of shut down.” She holds her stomach and the breath stills in her chest.

“I couldn’t even take care of myself,” she says. “I knew I had no place taking care of a baby.” More tears roll down her face. She covers her mouth with her hand.

My chest hurts. It hurts to breathe. To move. To exist.

I feel Alivia’s pain in every inch of me.

“I did what I thought was best for you,” she says finally. “Let you have a family. Not just a broken kid. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. But I knew it was the right thing.”

She doesn’t look over at me, as if she can’t handle the answer in my eyes if it was the right thing or not.

I’m not always a nice person. But I can’t just let her sit in uncertainty and agony.

“You did the right thing,” I say. I begin to reach over, contemplating touching her hand. But I can’t yet. “My parents are great. My dad is enthusiastic and on board with everything. My mom’s whole life was about me and my brother. I had a great life with them.”

She smiles, and finally, looks up at me.

Her eyes are filled with tears. But there’s hope in them.

“Thank you,” she offers.

We both look back out over the river. Only a few lights are still on now. It’s the middle of the night, the darkest part.

“You were three when I found out about Henry Conrath and moved here,” she continues the story. “When I came here, and everyone tried to use me and manipulate me.” She abruptly stops. She looks down in her lap again, shaking her head.

I hadn’t really stopped to consider it. What Alivia was walking into. How hard that must have been. When she had known nothing about this world, and was suddenly expected to be a leader.

But I see it now, in the eyes of every one of those House members. They respect Alivia. They love her. Even Edmond said they had died for one another and would do it again.

“I’d never been in love before I met Cyrus,” I say. My heart is racing. But I have to ask. “Before I died. So I guess this is the part I’ve struggled with the most. Everyone has had all these things to say about you. But so much of it is about your romantic relationships. I hate to ask you to explain yourself, but can you please help me understand? Can you please tell me the truth?”

She looks over at me, and I see it there in her eyes. She knows she made mistakes. And she can’t believe my opening statement.

“These are not short stories,” she says. “There’s so much history, back story. But there’s nothing wrong with asking for the truth.”

She tucks her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Ian and I should never have fallen in love. We were bound to be enemies from the time we were born. I had my heritage, and at the time, he thought vampires had killed both of his parents,” she begins. “So, he was very up front with me, that we could never be together, once I had Resurrected.” The distance in her eyes tells me how hard that must have been at the time. “But, we fell in love, anyway. And then, early on, someone who wanted my House killed him, right in front of me.”

Enemies. There are always enemies in our world, no matter if you are a Born, a Royal, or the King of them all.

“But four days later, Ian came knocking on my door, Resurrected as a Born,” Alivia says. “His mother had an intentional affair and conceived him, but he never knew. And Ian just couldn’t accept himself. He hated everything about himself, and everything I was about to have to embrace.”

“You knew Cyrus was coming,” I say. “Once word got out about a new female Royal, he would have been very eager to see you die.”

Just as he had me, just a month and a half ago.

Alivia nods.

“The tension leading up to Cyrus’ arrival drove the wedge between Ian and I even deeper. And finally, it got to be too much. We called it off, dark, bitter words were said. And we ended things.”

She toys with the hem of her shorts, picking at a thread there.

“During that time, Cyrus had sent a spy to watch me,” Alivia moves on. “Raheem. He eventually came into the light. Over a few weeks, we got to know one another. In him, I saw darkness that I recognized in my own heart. He encouraged me to accept my fate, to embrace the life I was born to be. Raheem accepted me and never once resented who I was.”

Acceptance.

It’s what we all need.

And I begin to understand.

Raheem gave her what Ian never could.

“But he kept his distance,” Alivia says. She looks up. “He knew the weight of Cyrus’ arrival and the potential for what could happen after I resurrected. It continued to rip me to pieces, my heart. I knew I didn’t love Raheem, but in a way, I needed him just to breathe.”

I try to recall his face. Raheem. Dark skin. Dark eyes. Mysterious, and a child of the desert.

But it’s been a long time.

“And then Cyrus arrived, and the end of my life came,” my mother continues to tell her story. “There is something to be said about Cyrus. He’s captivating. He’s intriguing. He’s intense. I didn’t expect that.” She shakes her head.

“The way he looked at me. The hope and longing in his eyes.”

She looks over at me. “I wanted to be you,” she says softly. “I wanted to end that pain in his eyes. I wanted to remember a past life so that I could forget the pain in my chest. So I could move on. Whenever I was with Cyrus, I desperately wanted to be you.”

Everything she says about Cyrus is true. He is engrossing. He holds a power over people.

Without even realizing it, he put a spell on Alivia.

I know it now; she never really stood a chance.

But Alivia Ryan Conrath is capable of far more than she looks.

Cyrus didn’t stand one either.

“I knew I was playing with fire,” Alivia confesses. “That I shouldn’t do what I was doing. Shouldn’t let Cyrus hope. But I wanted it. I also wanted to make the pain stop. Because there was Raheem, waiting in the shadows, soft touches and stolen kisses. There was Cyrus, looking at me with so much longing. But all I wanted was Ian.”

Her voice grows breathy. Quiet.

The two of them are toxic. I have spent hardly any time around the two of them, but I can already tell. They’re toxic around each other.

But we all have our brands of acid. Maybe they are the only two who could mix with one another.

“I didn’t mean to break Cyrus,” she says, looking over at me. “And I regret what I did, every day.”

I swallow and my eyes drop away from hers for a moment.

Everyone does things that they regret.

And I’ve heard more stories.

I think I understand now, another reason Ian will never like me. I’m married to the man who tortured his wife. Ian has only ever seen the dark side of Cyrus, only has a few years of history and a limited set of experiences with him.

I can tell: Ian is a man who does not forgive.

“Rath said Cyrus held you at Roter Himmel, and I’ve seen the brands,” I say quietly. “I…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I don’t know that I want to hear those stories. I know what Cyrus is capable of. How big of a grudge he can hold. So I think it’s safe to say that you’re probably even.”

She gives a little huff, and I see it in her eyes. Not even close.

I wonder again, just what exactly did Cyrus do to Alivia while she was at Roter Himmel?

“Well, at least one good thing came out of it, well, two I guess, since it was our time there that brought Ian and I back together,” she corrects herself. “But that’s where I saw your father, and knew he was a Royal.”

I look back at her. “So you do know who he is?” My heart plunders my body, raging.

She shrugs. “I recognized him, but I never spoke to him. I knew he hadn’t given me his real name all those years ago. And I was terrified. What were the chances that I, a Royal who didn’t even know she was a Royal, would sleep with another Royal?”

“Slim to none,” I say, my brows furrowing. “Alivia, do you think that somehow he knew what you were?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know, but it just can’t be coincidence, it just doesn’t seem realistic.”

I nod. The odds…

“So you don’t know his name?” I ask. She shakes her head. “But if you were to come to Roter Himmel, you would be able to identify him again, right?”

Her face pales. I understand. Not many come to Roter Himmel under positive circumstances. And if she was there so Cyrus could get revenge… Asking her to go back is big.

“I could,” she says. Her voice is tight. “And I will. If you want me to.”

I offer her a small, appreciative smile. “Maybe. I’ll have to think about it. This is all…everything. It’s just happening so fast. Just a month ago I was worrying about money problems, and now I’m…”

Alivia reaches over and places a hand on my knee.

“Please,” she says, and her tone makes me meet her eyes again. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But ever since I realized, I knew, that you would be the one, when you were just four years old, I tried to keep you out of this, for as long as I could. Can you…can you please tell me what happened?”

I look at her for a long moment, my eyes flicking to hers, one and then the other.

This is our biggest difference. Our eyes.

I did not get them from her.

“Rath and I had had a fight,” I begin. “There had been some attacks in the area—vampire. He wanted me to move back in with my parents, I told him that was never going to happen. Anyway…” I shake my head, remembering the annoying night. “We stumbled upon two vampires dealing with the attacker. It was a mess. Rath begged them to let us go, but the man, he kept looking at me and demanding to know who I was.”

Realization creeps into Alivia’s eyes.

“I look a lot like you,” I say softly. “And finally he realized it. He probably would have let it go, considering I was the daughter of a female Royal, but with Rath there…”

Alivia sighs. “In the end, the man I sent to protect you was the one who gave you away.”

I nod. “Cyrus arrived just hours later,” I say. “Tested my blood, confirmed I was Royal through both lines. He wanted to kill me, right then and there.”

“How the hell did you ever stop him?” she asks.

I laugh. “I made a deal with him. He could kill me, but he had to give me a month to wrap up my human life. And he had to get to know me during that month. My intent was that it would change his mind and he would decide that I didn’t have to die.”

Sadness creeps into her eyes. Heavy. Regretful.

“So I assume your month ran out,” she concludes.

But I shake my head. “Someone tried to kill him. I stopped them, but it cost me my own life.”

Alivia angles toward me, leaning in closer. The moment grows heavier. Denser.

“And what made you do that, Logan?”

I look up, my eyes rising to the stars above us. I search them, trying to remember everything I know about them. So that I can know which same ones Cyrus might be looking at.

“You said you’d never been in love before you met Cyrus,” Alivia says softly. “You didn’t say that as Sevan, did you?”

I take a few more breaths, still staring at the stars. Slowly, I let my eyes slide closed. I feel his breath on my neck. I imagine his lips. I hear the sound of him humming.

“No, I didn’t,” I answer.

She lets me sit in the quiet for a few moments, just lost in thought. In my own memories.

A helicopter ride.

A fake bowling date.

His hand in mine.

Looks across my parents’ kitchen table.

A kill defending my honor.

The look of guilt in his eyes.

“It’s kind of annoying, isn’t it?” Alivia says eventually. “When our hearts want something that logically seems so bad for us?”

A little chuckle escapes my lips. I open my eyes and look back at Alivia, who smiles back, and I realize, she does get it.

She sighs. “I’m sorry all of it, every piece of this, is such a mess,” she says. “But I’m really glad you’re here. And I’m really glad we’re getting this time.”

I smile. “Me too,” I say. “None of it is how I thought it would be, someday. But we roll with the drama, don’t we?”

She smiles. “I guess it’s what we do.”