Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Mates were locked at the soul. For her to anger Cerberus to such a degree… They all believed Cerberus’s abuse was somehow caused by her actions, which it had never been.
When Christian was born, she pushed for him to have a seat on the council and as soon as he came of age, the Bishop took him under his wing. Then, she was left alone—for centuries.
Juniper’s heart broke. How could anyone survive such endless isolation?
The despair was too much. The hopeless acceptance that this was all she deserved made Juniper want to hold her and convince her she was owed so much more.
When she reached the presence, she found only traces of Cerberus in her mind, but he was not there now. She looked again and again, but only found traces of pain in his wake. He existed in the scars. Her memories draped like torn lace and wilted cobwebs all throughout her mind, casting shadows like permanent tattoos that she would probably always wear.
Juniper lowered her hands, fighting hard not to shed a single tear.
Adriel’s eyes opened, and she looked up at her with the same familiar innocence she had as a girl. “Is he gone?”
Feeling like a failure, she looked away. “I couldn’t find him.”
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“I don’t know.” Unlike the fatigue she usually felt from magick, she now only felt discouraged, drained to the point of emotional bankruptcy. Depleted.
Sad.
Adriel read it in her eyes. “What’s wrong? You saw something. Tell me.”
She didn’t know what to say. She could confess how much she initially downplayed the level of abuse she experienced. When Adriel told her how awful her mate was, Juniper had listened but she hadn’t truly understood. Not by a long shot.
She’d been unprepared for such raw memories. No resolution. No knight in shining armor. No magic apples or fairy godmothers or any of that other bullshit kids are shown to believe good will always triumph over evil. It was just…bleak.
She cleared her throat. “Your mind is different from Dane’s. He’s been there several times, but…”
Perhaps it was the mating that made her psyche so complex. She wished she never saw those tender scars. She didn’t want to pity her, yet she couldn’t shut off her sympathy.
Adriel drew back in offense, likely smelling her emotions as immortals so annoyingly tended to do. “You said you were only looking for a presence.”
“I was.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that now, with regret?”
She was so worn out and tired, she didn’t have the fortitude to argue or even the cognitive strength to explain what she saw—at least not gently.
“He’s everywhere, Adriel. I was honestly only searching for his presence, but he’s ingrained in you.”
She stiffened and Juniper honestly didn’t know if that level of entrenchment might also trigger some bizarre protectiveness. If that was how deeply mates rooted in each other’s minds, maybe they really were fucked.
“What did you see?” Adriel’s stare hardened as she waited for an explanation with unflinching stoicism.
Juniper shook her head, feeling small and far too attached to her. “It was a lot.” She swallowed. “I…” A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare shed a tear out of pity for me.” She shot to her feet. “You had no right to rifle through my memories.”
Upset she’d unintentionally hurt her, another tear fell. “Ade, I didn’t do it on purpose. I swear, I was only trying to sniff him out.”
“And now you see how deeply embedded he is?” She scoffed and looked away. “What you must think of me.”
“What? No.” Juniper grabbed her arm. “None of that was your fault.”
Adriel turned her face away, her eyes closing in shame as she pursed her lips. Her hands tightened into fists. “I had no one. I was young and foolish.”
“You survived,” Juniper explained. “That’s all that matters now. You did whatever you could to survive and save your son. And here you are…living.”
Adriel nodded tightly. “Yes.”
Juniper slipped her hand into hers and squeezed. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to violate your trust.”
She dashed away her tears. “There’s nothing to forgive. You were only trying to help. This is who am. Now you know.”
That was not who she was. Those hideous memories were only part of her. Scars. She was a victim. That was it. An innocent child who was somehow mated to a monster.
The experience of seeing Adriel’s memories bothered Juniper more than she could admit. Dane said mates were supposed to be two halves of one soul. Yet Cerberus’s presence seemed very surface, up until he physically punctured her life, implanting himself in the whole of her new reality until he alone consumed her entire mind.
That felt very different from the romanticized crap she’d been told. But without seeing the topography of another mated immortal’s mind, she had no basis for comparison and no real data to make sense of what she saw.