“Is it supposed to hurt like this?” Aster yelped, trying not to instinctively squirm away from her sister.

“It’s a tattoo, Sunshine. What do you think?” Cin asked, chuckling at her naivete.

“I thought it only hurt in certain spots,” she said as the needle buzzed over her shoulder blade.

“Sorry to burst your bubble. Do you want to keep going? If I stop now, I could probably turn it into . . . a flower? Or something?”

It was the uncertainty in Cin’s voice that crushed any hope Aster had of backing out. “No, keep going.”

She tried to focus on what it felt like to wake up in bed next to Dem that morning. At some point, he’d jumped them home, clothing and all, without disturbing her sleep. She’d climbed out of bed as stealthily as she could, trying to repay the favor, but when she came back from the bathroom, he was awake nonetheless, not that she minded considering the way he pulled her back into bed and kissed her senseless.

The kiss had turned into morning sex, which had been just as mind-blowing as before. When he had to leave for a meeting, she didn’t want to stay in his house without him, so she went over to Cin and Thad’s place, and for once didn’t want to barf at their lovey-dovey crap. That was what Dem did to her, made her tolerate all the touchy feely that happened between couples. She was even starting to think she wouldn’t mind it if he acted the same way, which was definitely not her M.O.

“Whatchu ladies up to?” Tony’s drawl came from the back of the store, startling Aster out of memories she should not be thinking about around her sister.

The shop was usually closed on a Monday, but he let them come in to have some quality sister time while he did paperwork. They had done it a couple times before, and usually Aster just watched as Cin tattooed herself, but this time, she’d been brave and owned up to the fact that she’d wanted a tattoo for years.

“Aster finally decided to get some work done!” Cin called back to him.

“Say what now?”

“You heard me, old man!”

The two of them had such a unique relationship. When they were growing up, her mom, Julie, had never really brought any of the men she had dated home, at least, not until they were in high school, so there hadn’t been many male role models in her life. Seeing Cin and Tony together reminded her of what they both missed out on since neither of their parents could keep them.

Tony’s slow footsteps came toward them. The man was severely overweight, to the point that she knew it worried Cin. He sat down on the bench next to Aster.

“Whatchu havin’ done, Sunshine?”

“Swallows. One for my trip to the Underworld and one for my trip to Mount Olympus. I figure I deserve them, having survived both.” She grinned, but didn’t add that the swallow she said represented the Underworld represented her own hell even more. Being trapped and experimented on had been . . . well, it’d been hell.

The fact that Tony knew about the brothers and all the creepy crawlies in the world and beyond was one of the main reasons she liked hanging out at the shop. It wasn’t so much that it felt like a secret club, but more that she just didn’t have to sensor herself around him.

“Been havin’ some adventures, huh?”

“Some I’d rather not have,” she added, her anger showing just a little before she was able to clamp it back down.

“Here, Cin, you stop that now. I’m gonna soup up your work.” He winked at Aster and stood, the sides of his Hawaiian shirt flapping with the effort while his T-shirt strained against his belly.

“What?” Cin shook her head and turned toward Tony, but he was already shuffling away.

“Just hold on a minute.” He rummaged through his area of the shop. Tony had a special table that allowed him to move clients around more easily, along with his own chest of drawers and supplies, all of which the other artists knew were strictly off limits to them.

“Here, now,” he said as he came back over, holding a pot of ink. “Trust me, this here will help keep ya safe.”

“What is it?” Cin asked, peering into the pot of black liquid.

“It’s some of the ink that my grandmama taught me how to make. Special herbs and oils and whatnot, gives it extra juice. If y’all are doin’ colors, I can get some of those for you too.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Aster said, suddenly on the verge of tears.

“Hey now, little bird, no need for tears.” He smiled down at her.

Aster shook her head, unable to speak through the knot of emotion in her throat.

“You girls are family. I protect my family best I can, so there’s no need for thanks, either.” She saw him look at Cin out of the corner of her eye. “I’ll leave y’all to it. Let me know if you want color, though. I’m just workin’ in the back.”

“Thank you, old man, really.” Cin’s voice was soft, as though she was trying not to disturb Aster, or make her more upset.

Once they were alone, her sister came and squatted in front of her. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. Try again.”

“Cin, really . . .”

“Aster. I’m serious. Either you tell me what’s wrong, or I leave a half-finished bird on your back.”

“I’ve just been really emotional lately, and what Tony said about keeping me safe, it meant a lot. I don’t know many people who would go out of their way to do that.”

“I can name at least nine people who would do anything for you.”

The number startled Aster. Sure, she had friends, but they were never close since she couldn’t risk them finding out about her visions. “Nine?”

“Me, Tony, Mom, Thad, Dem, Hal, Alec, Ellie, and Robin,” she said, raising a finger for each of them. “Plus, I’m sure you could add your biological mom to that list and make it ten. Ten people would go to war for you. That’s pretty good in my book.”

“Thanks.” Aster rubbed her arms, trying to ease the flow of emotions within her. She didn’t have any reasoning behind them. It was like a ball was bouncing around inside her, and each time it hit, a new emotion took over. It was getting old.

“How long has this been going on? Since The Farm?” Cin lowered her voice, and Aster knew she hadn’t told Tony everything about what had happened. It wouldn’t have been like her, anyway. Her sister only ever told information or stories that were about her, standing by the philosophy that other people’s stories were theirs to tell.

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know. Can you finish my tattoos, please? I don’t want to end up with just one bird. I want him to have a friend.”

“Is that what this is about? Are you lonely?”

“Yes. No. Kind of. Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters!” Cin’s forehead wrinkled in concern. “If you need us to figure out a way to keep you safe on the mainland, that’s totally something we can do. You are in no way, shape, or form a prisoner on the island. We all just got wrapped up in other things.”

“It’s not like those other things were small, so—”

“You aren’t small, either. You matter, Aster.”

“I know, I know. Now, tattoo, please?”

“Okay, but try not to squirm as much this time. Unless you want your bird to look drunk, then by all means, squirm away.”

A laugh bubbled through Aster, and just like that, all the sappy emotions were gone and she could focus on not flinching as the buzzing of the tattoo machine started up again.

* * *

Dem knew he had to speak with Aster about Leonard, but he’d been putting it off. Everything was going well between them. Neither of them seemed trapped by their hang-ups, at least, for the moment, so he didn’t want to rock the boat. But Cin had requested that they release the waste of space soon, so whatever Aster needed to do, she had to finish it to find whatever closure she could. Hell, if she’d tell him what happened, he would probably even help her with it.

There were so many questions that swirled in his head about that time. The time between their weekend together and when she was on his island. He even wanted to know what had happened between them sleeping together and her getting taken.

Everything about her was a mystery to him, and he wanted to peel her secrets away like the layers of an onion. Most of all, though, he wanted to peel the clothing off her body. If they ever spent much time together, then she would probably wind up spending most of that time naked, or, gods, just in a T-shirt. Desire surged to his cock at the thought.

He needed to get control of himself. They had to talk like grown adults, which they both were. Hell, he was more than a grown adult. He was centuries old, for crying out loud. It shouldn’t be this difficult to think past the haze of lust that coated his brain. Cin and Aster appeared moments later. The woman he looked at as a little sister waved before disappearing to go home to her own soulmate, while the woman who captivated him stood there, looking guilty as sin.

“What did you do?” He growled the question more than he’d intended.

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.” She bit her lower lip on one side as an excited smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Oh?”

She spun around then, displaying the new artwork on her skin. Two beautiful swallows, one on each shoulder blade, faced each other. Greens, blues, golds, reds, they were all in there, but the way the colors were positioned made it look like a painting, with the birds appearing to fly toward each other. When he looked at it, he could almost see them in motion.

“That’s beautiful.” He could appreciate good work, and Cin was a very talented artist.

Aster looked over her shoulder at him, a radiant smile on her face. “Thanks!”

“Listen,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the floor. When he glanced up, her smile was gone, and there was a wariness in her expression. The glow that had been there moments ago was missing, and the room seemed darker and colder for it. “I know that you’ve been getting into the training room somehow. I also know you’ve been beating on Leonard. What’s going on, Aster?”

Her face paled as all the blood drained from it. She went to take a step, and her whole body swayed. Dem stepped forward and pulled her against him in a hug, before walking, which was putting it loosely since he was supporting most of her weight, them both over to the couch. He could feel moisture through his T-shirt, and the delicate shoulders he had his arms around began to shake.

She was crying.

His tough little cookie was crumbling. He didn’t know what to say or do to make her feel better, so he just held her.

They stood like that for a while, his T-shirt getting progressively wetter as her tears soaked into the fabric. Finally, she pulled back just enough to look up at him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from holding the tears in.

“You don’t have to apologize. At least, not to me. I just want to know what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.” He brushed some of the golden waves away from her face. “Sit. Let me get you some tissues and water.”

When he came back, she was huddled into herself, as though she could disappear if she tried hard enough. The sight broke his heart, reminding him too much of when they’d rescued her from the farmhouse.

“Here,” he said softly as he held the items in front of her.

She took a couple tissues and the glass of water. Sipped it even though her hands were shaking before putting it on the table next to the box of tissues. Dem sat next to her, waiting. This was not the time to push, he knew that, but he was also impatient, so he mentally berated himself into silence, waiting with baited breath to hear what she would tell him.

Eventually she began to speak. Her voice sounded distant, as though she wasn’t quite present. “I’ve been angry most of my life, but I got good at hiding it. It’s hard growing up without any true friends, except for my sister, who I fought with because, well, she’s my sister. I think the anger is what got me through everything with the Order of Talos; it gave me the core of steel I needed to not break. I need you to understand that I had to let it out, and he was the only thing I could think of that I could hurt without also hurting someone I cared about.”

Dem nodded when she stopped. He needed her to know he was willing to listen and support her any way he could, but he also didn’t want to fully interrupt her.

“When I was taken, it was like I was watching it happen to someone else. I had no control. The commands he gave me were impossible to ignore. I couldn’t stop it from happening. Then the next thing I knew, I was handcuffed to a chair in a room with no windows, one lightbulb, and only one door.

“There were two men there, Mitchell and O’Connell, and I was terrified of what was about to happen. They just stood and stared at me. Then Mitchell stepped forward and demanded that I have a vision. I tried to explain that it doesn’t work like that, but he wouldn’t listen. They would leave for periods of time and come back demanding I have a vision. It felt like forever to me, but in all honesty, it could have only been ten minutes or something. I had no sense of time unless I counted it myself, and that started to drive me crazy, so I stopped.

“After a while, they left me alone for a long time. The fear came back then, thinking they would just leave me down there to rot. When they came back, Mitchell walked straight up and backhanded me, telling me to have a vision or he would keep going. When I said I couldn’t, he spat in my face. O’Connell came over and dumped a bottle of ice-cold water over my head, telling me I would freeze, but if I had a vision, he would bring in a heater. O’Connell barely ever spoke, but he was always inflicting a different stimulus on me—hot, cold, knives, bats. He never technically touched me. At least, not that I was aware of.

“Whereas Mitchell never shut up, and he was the violent one. It went on like that for at least a week, I think. There was a small cot that kept me off the floor, but that was it. When they did leave me to rest, they would chain me to the cot so I couldn’t move. That was always when they gave me the injections. I have no idea what they were, but they stung, and if I tried to resist? Well, it wasn’t worth it.” She glanced up at him with weary eyes, as though she was checking he was still listening. When she found his gaze, her eyes lowered and she continued speaking.

“Eventually, I was sent up to see Randall. It was when I first met Robin. She was so kind and sweet. She even made them uncuff me, which was the first time I hadn’t been in handcuffs or ankle cuffs since they took me. Meeting Randall was like stepping through the looking glass. His office was sleek and modern. He was dressed in expensive clothes and ordered Robin around like she was his personal doll.

“I, on the other hand, was filthy. Hadn’t showered in over a week, I think, maybe closer to two. I knew I disgusted him, but it wasn’t like it would benefit me to throw it in his face. So I listened as he tried to persuade me to have a vision or be taken to The Farm where I would be bred like a mare. They were going to harvest any eggs from me that they could, fertilize them, and implant them in surrogates, while I, of course, would be impregnated and be the control. If my child had visions and the others didn’t, then they would know that it was not just DNA related.

“I flipped out, telling him I would kill myself before I let that happen. It was only after I’d said it that I realized my mistake, because while he didn’t come right out and say it, I knew that I didn’t have to be conscious to carry the child to term. When I was taken back down to my holding room, O’Connell and Mitchell were even more vicious with me. It was only for another day or so, and then I met Leonard. He was a peach.”

Aster paused, and the venom that rode in her voice as she spoke of the man they currently held prisoner was shocking, even for Dem, but at that moment, he was having a hard time focusing on anything other than her words and keeping his anger in check. The idea that she’d been so violently abused created a fury in him that hadn’t existed in years, not since he went to Mount Olympus and accused Zeus. His hands were folded together, his fingers clenched so tightly that the skin had turned white. He had to force himself to relax his hold.

“Leonard told me exactly what was going to happen, and executed his plan flawlessly. He knocked me out, and when I woke up, I was at the facility they called The Farm. Everything there was different. I could sense that I was above ground. The air was lighter. It didn’t have the mildewy smell that the other room had, but unfortunately, it did have the same guards. Mitchell and O’Connell were considered my carers. O’Connell was somewhat nicer now that he didn’t have to be around me with Mitchell. He gave me some water to drink on a couple occasions, and he was the one who gave me the injections. It was almost like he could see me as a person again. Mitchell was always with Leonard. Always leering when Leonard examined me, which was the first thing he did.

“I was allowed to shower, and when I came out, my clothes were gone. They had me stand naked in front of him while every part of me was measured and cataloged. After that, I was given a hospital gown and chained to the bed. He put me under anesthesia more than once, and I still have no idea why.

“Sometimes I would wake up and my kidneys would hurt. Other times it would be my lungs, or my abdomen. It terrifies me to think about what they did while I was at their mercy. Everything I just told you is what Phobetor plays on. He puts me back in the room, chained to the bed with Leonard or O’Connell there, or he puts me back in the underground cell, chained to the cot once again. He’s the god of nightmares, and my recent history has given him plenty of material.”

Dem knew she was done talking, and he knew that she had spoken mostly without emotion, because to go over all of that, she had to shut that part of herself off, or at least, he would have to.

“Don’t tell anyone. This is between us.” She looked up at him then with her arms wrapped around herself, her amber eyes burning into him.

“I would never.” He wanted to reach out to her, to pull her to him and close his arms around her so he could protect her from anything that could do her further harm, but that was no way to live. Isa had taught him that.

He paused. It was the first time he could ever remember thinking of Isa without feeling pain and guilt. What Thad had said to him was true; Isa would have hated what he had turned into by letting himself be consumed with grief. When he looked at the woman sitting next to him, his insides quaked with an emotion he thought he’d forgotten how to feel.

She’d withdrawn into herself since her speech, and he hated that. Aster was a complex, beautiful woman, and he wanted nothing more than to see her happy. If that meant beating the snot out of the human garbage in the cage downstairs, well, then, he’d help her do that. After everything she’d told him, he would probably join in.

“Aster, what do you want to do? Do you want me to take you down there? Allow you to keep whaling on him? Or do you want him off the island?”

“I—” Her voice caught and her eyes rolled back in her head as her body slumped against the couch.