Waiting patiently, time stretched out and darkness wrapped around us.

Aunt Ellena began to speak so quietly that had to lean closer. "I used to accompany your mother as her chaperone when she dated your father, even after they were engaged. Asta and Jasper liked to meet in Ascendria and spend the day there. I was annoying, and they, like most couples, wanted time without me dogging their heels. It was terribly wrong of me to leave them alone, but I did."

She left them alone? It flickered in my mind briefly before it was dashed away like dust by the wind. Maybe I hadn't been conceived on the wedding night, perhaps it was beforehand if they weren't chaperoned.

But did it matter?

I was born in wedlock.

"It was there at the lake that I met him—Wyatt."

I rolled the name Wyatt around in my head, liking it, wondering which House he belonged to before my mind charged ahead imagining a young Aunt Ellena out in Ascendria meeting a boy on a pretty trail winding through the woodland surrounding the city's lake.

I was unable to stop the snicker as I grinned. "Wyatt sounds like one of those cowboys."

My aunt swallowed thickly as if nervous.

My grin fell off my face at her guilty silence. I breathed, "Wyatt was a mortal?"

It was even more dangerous for any of us to be tangled up in a relationship with a mortal. No one from our world could leave the Horned Gods, nor expose our dark sect to the mortal world. If it had been discovered my aunt's life would have been ended as well as the man she'd fallen in love with. "How did you two meet?"

Aunt Ellena chewed her lip and actually looked sheepish. "I saw him working at the lake's garden. He was so handsome. I pretended I was new to the city and lost and asked him for directions."

"You did?"

She nodded. "I did, and then later on when he started showing me the sights of the city, I had to act surprised and awestruck every single time."

A laugh bubbled from my throat at the thought of my prim aunt doing that. "How old were you?"

"Seventeen."

"Oh my... Aunt Ellena!" I gasped, shocked.

Her teeth flashed out to nip her lower lip as the corners of her mouth turned up. "He had wild blond hair and these striking blue eyes. Every time he smiled at me with those dimples I melted. He was a few years older, but there was something about him I could never quite explain. A sense of timelessness. Everything he touched became more vibrant."

"What was he like?"

She stretched out her hand and the tips of her chilly fingers pinched my chin. I basked in the glorious smile shining in her eyes. "You would have adored him. Wyatt made me laugh so easily. He was clever and sweet, if a little unruly. A knowledge gatherer. He seized hold of life and lived, really lived. He was a wandering soul and you could see the yearning in his eyes to hit the road and keep on moving. Before we met, he'd already traveled a fair bit and had so many great stories. He had a motorcycle and he'd take me on rides all over the city and through the countryside." She sighed wistfully. "I loved sitting on the back of his bike with the wind whipping around us, the sound of the engine roaring as we ate through the asphalt." Her fingertips left my chin and cool air swirled between us as she drew back and spread her hands on her thighs. "Wyatt was the one who actually taught me to ride a bike. Later on, when I bought my darling Vespa, I had to pretend all over again to learn."

My aunt, with her secretive youth, was astonishing.

"What did he do?" I asked. On occasion, we replenished our ranks with mortals who had caught our eye. "Maybe you could have petitioned for him to be initiated into our ranks?" It was a long shot, and one, as I rifled through my memories, not a single servant had done before.

Strands of hair ruffled as she shook her head. Her smile faded. "No. We initiate criminals, Tabitha, those who serve one of the crime syndicates. Someone we take a liking to because they display the kind of qualities that fit into the role of enforcer or soldier. Someone who could easily disappear into our world without leaving a trace in theirs. And we bind them with their given word." She glanced away into the murkiness of the trees behind me. Sorrow laced her tight voice. "Wyatt was lovely but ordinary. No, he wouldn't have been accepted into our ranks. And if we'd been discovered, well...I'm not sure I'd be sitting here with you here on this lovely night."

A heavy weight settled on me. No, she wouldn't be.

"How did it end between you two?" How did he break your heart was what I was really asking.

Golden eyebrows slashed upward and her bottom lip quivered. The distress in her voice cracked apart the words. "I broke his heart."

Her shoulders drooped as she bowed her head, long hair falling forward to hide her face. Her torment pierced my own heart and agony clenched my throat. I reached out to take her trembling hand in my own and ran my thumb in comforting circles over the back of hers. It was quiet for a bit, while she collected herself and rubbed a knuckle beneath her eyes. She sniffled and lifted her head to meet my gaze, tears clinging to her eyelashes. "I had the most amazing time of my life, ever. It was so easy to fall into Wyatt and give him my heart. And he felt the same way too. A year later, he proposed, knowing I was far too young, but he said he'd wait until we were older." She pressed a shaky hand to her chest, her smile tremulous. "He wanted me to be Mrs. Wyatt Kenton."

Mrs. Wyatt Kenton had such a lovely ring to it, and I couldn't help but share her smile.

"He was kneeling at our spot by the lake beneath a weeping willow, offering me the engagement ring, and I woke up to the fact that we couldn't have a happily ever after. And utter terror fell upon me. If someone from the Houses found us together, they'd kill him." Her words became more rushed, her tone spiked with wretchedness. "I panicked and acted recklessly. I drove him away by bruising his ego. I laughed as I told him I didn't love him and certainly wouldn't marry him... I said some cruel and vicious things that day." Pain rolled down her cheeks as the salty droplets fell. "I hurt him so badly," she breathed, her lips a grief-stricken line and glistening with wetness.

I wanted to cry myself. I surged up on my knees, wrapping my arms around my aunt in a hug as a sob shuddered from her. She clung to me, her chin resting in the crook of my shoulder, and my eyes stung with hot tears of commiseration. When she spoke my neck was warmed by her breath. "I was sick to my stomach at what I'd done. I could barely keep any food down that week. I was brokenhearted and hated myself for hurting him. I went back the following week, wanting to apologize. To make things right. To tell him what I could of my truth. To tell him I did love him. I loved him with everything."

Silence hung heavily in the air, ruptured only by her muffled weeping and the wisp of fabric as I tightened my arms around her.

She gently eased away, and I handed her a napkin wishing I could take away her heartache as easily as it was for her to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She balled up the napkin and held it in her fist as she heaved a deep sigh. She raised her gaze skyward and spoke quietly, almost to herself. "I'll always remember that day. The sky was torn apart by a storm as if it knew I couldn't bear to see sunshine and startling blue skies. Perhaps it felt sorry for me and wanted to hide my tears with rainfall. We'd been waylaid. Asta and I arrived late in Ascendria. I wasn't thinking clearly, and mindlessly panicking, I fell on the slippery pavement trying to get to our spot in time and shredded my palms and knees. And my hands..." She lifted her hands, turned them palm upward, and stared down at them, her eyebrows knitting together as if she were still trying to understand. "My hands kept bleeding and the rain kept washing it away. I didn't feel the pain there...I felt it in here." She pressed a palm to her heart.

"Did you get to Wyatt in time?"

Moonlight shimmered across her blotchy cheeks as she shook her head. "I saw Wyatt at the edge of the lake and I tried to call out to him to wait, wait..." But the wind ripped the words from me and the storm drowned them beneath thunder. He walked back to his bike and rode away. And I never saw him again." She stared into the distance at the bushy trees brushed in darkness and silver. "I loved him so much." There was such raw anguish on her features it cut apart my own heart.

Aunt Ellena wiped her nose with the napkin before jamming it into her jacket pocket. "I went back to our spot for a few more weeks, hoping, like a heartbroken fool, he'd return. He never did. And then life changed irrevocably... Your father and mother married, and your father went to South America, and there was no reason for me to chaperone your mother. No more trips to Ascendria."

Though her sigh was laced with defeat and acceptance, her voice was much stronger. She shook her shoulders as if bolstering up her confidence. "It's so silly of me to be holding onto him for so long. It was a lifetime ago."

But he was her first love and I could finally understand that now too.

My aunt brought her gaze back to mine and smiled with her whole heart. "I lost Wyatt, but I gained so much more." She leaned closer and cupped the sides of my face with her hands and stroked her thumb along my cheekbone. "I had you. A wonderful niece. A little girl I'd always wanted for myself."

Surprise rattled in my chest. "You did?"

"Of course." She tapped me on the nose before drawing her hands away. "When I was your age, even younger, I dreamed of sharing a life with someone else and having a big family of girls."

Me too.

"I'm sorry about Wyatt. But I'm glad for Markel," I said, tugging on a lock of her hair.

She nodded and her bright smile was true. "I am too."

Aunt Ellena got to her feet and offered her hand. I slipped mine into hers and she helped me to my feet, throwing an arm around my shoulder and squeezing. "I'm sorry things didn't work out with Tomas. I'm sorry he didn't want to take you out on a date. But I'm also not sorry. Tomas is a fool not to see what was right in front of him. A sweet girl with a big heart."

I shrugged. "Tomas can be a little obtuse, but it's okay, I think I like Tomas as a friend anyway."

She jerked her chin toward the path that led down the knoll. "Time to go back home. It's late and you've got a big couple of days ahead of you." Yes, I did. A full day of work before joining Oswin at his Stag party and then the wedding the next day.

We packed up the telescope and all the other bits and pieces into our backpacks and struck out for the homeward march. While we navigated the path winding down the knoll, leaves and stones skittering before us, my mind was filled with my aunt and Wyatt Kenton, their tragic love story, and how my aunt was forced to give him up to save his life.

And then I wondered, not if but when the time came, would Varen let me go too?

Abruptly, an eerie sound had me freezing to the spot.

A mournful howl pierced the darkness.

My hand holding the flashlight was braced against the cold papery bark of a slender birch. Tension ran rife throughout my body and my ears were keenly attuned to the doleful howl as it drifted apart. "A wraith-wolf," I whispered over my shoulder.

"It's far away," my aunt whispered back.

I hadn't ever seen a wraith-wolf in real life, just sketches of them in dusty books. They were magnificent beasts and not-quite-alive so they were able to shimmer in and out of existence and pass through the wraith void in short bursts. Wraith-wolves roamed the wilds in small packs, and from what I learned from the books I'd read in the Deniauds' library, their dens were near the Heart of the Hemmlok Forest. They were also the favored sentinels of a House, cursed long ago by a witch, that guarded a forest prison.

Upended stones and dirt rattled down the track before me as I carefully navigated the knoll's incline, leading the way home after our evening of stargazing. Despite my aunt's chatter, my mind still remained on her tearful tale of how she lost her first love, a mortal, and how it mirrored my relationship with an heir. The flashlight wove with my unsteady gait, cutting through the darkness and offering a sliver of sight: drooping branches adorned with thorns, gnarled roots poking through a carpet of rotten leaves, spiderwebs beaded with moisture that glittered like jewels.

Behind me, my aunt cheerily continued on about her favorite pastime, which was spending time with me and my mother at the Szarvases'. Her voice was pitched too brightly, as if she was trying to distract herself from what she'd shared about Wyatt. "Years ago I found an old path that connects the estates. I'd ride my Vespa along the trail and visit you at the Szarvases'. It was thrilling and so much fun. It was like being one of those dirt bike riders." She made a noise like a revving engine—vrrrooom vrrrooom.

My belly jiggled with an abrupt snicker at the thought of my aunt carving up the track like a motocross rider. However, it twigged a memory of a rutted track serpentining through the Hemmlok Forest like an adder. I spun around, astonished. The picnic hamper I carried thumped against my outer thigh. Motorbike wheels, of course—now the gouged earth made sense. "I've walked part of that path." I'd stumbled across it while checking my traps when I was much younger, but I'd never followed it all the way to its end. "It leads to the Szarvases'?"

I'd lowered my flashlight so as not to shine it right in her eyes. It grazed her brown slacks and hiking boots with their lime-green laces, the yellow light bleeding upward and blending with the murkiness surrounding us both. The dark stained her knitted hat a deep burgundy and the pompom bobbed as she nodded enthusiastically.

"But wouldn't it be easier and faster to use the road?" I asked, frowning.

She hitched a shoulder casually and the top of her backpack rose with the movement. "By using it, I could visit any time and without having to sign into the Szarvas estate."

And curiously, I realized, no one from either estate would know that she was there.