Tornado of Nightmares (Book 2)

three

☾ Ember ☾

"THIS IS POINTLESS," I WHINE. We've been trying this for— I don't know how fucking long. But long enough. I try going through the mirror, going through the memories and pain, and all I come out as is more confused. I think it hates me, well, it dislikes me—that's for sure—but I'm not sure hate is the right word.

I've gotten no where with this angry mirror. The biggest problem is becoming my biggest problem right now. I am so close to punching the mirror; breaking it into a million little pieces and refusing to deal with it.

Don't even try that. Gatsby laughs in my mind.

I whirl on him. "I don't see you coming up with any solutions, it seems to be just me trying to get us out of here."

He chuckles again. We've been over this—I can't tell you how to fix it. That is up to you to find out, Ember.

I huff a sigh and lay back on the floor. What am I going to do? I've tried everything, but each memory is worse than the others. Each brings me back to that dark place inside of myself. That part that I loathe being in. I don't have time to wallow in self pity.

I need to get the hell out of here—and fast.

"You and my father—" I choke on the word, like acid. It burns it's way through me. Through my lungs, my blood, my skin. Scorching me raw. The word shouldn't feel like that. That title should feel nice, soothing. To be able to call him my father. To enjoy having him in my life. But can he ever truly be in my life? He's a God, I'm a . . . I don't know what I am. Do I count as a Goddess? And if so, would I be like the rest of them?

These questions have burning through me for weeks, months, years.

I wish I knew how long it's been.

I turn my head to Gatsby, he lies next to my head, his snout inches away from my face. "Did you know him?"

He blinks.

"Did you know him?" I repeat.

Gatsby looks away from me, but I saw the look in his eyes before he looked away. Guilt. He feels guilty.

I bound to my feet. "Did you know him?" I demand, angrier this time.

Gatsby stands, his eyes shine with regret. I stumble back a step.

"You did." I point an accusing finger at him. "Did you know?" My heart beats rapidly out of my chest. Betrayal sitting heavily on me. "Did you know who we—who I was the entire time?"

He stares at me for a long time. I silently beg him to say no. To tell me he never knew who my parents were, never knew who I was and who my sister was. If he admits to that—to never telling me in eighteen years of living that I was sired from two great beings and kidnapped and turned into a weapon—

He dips his head, a shallow nod.

Rage pours through me. "You knew, this whole time, you knew."

Another shallow nod.

Ember, you have to understand, I was under strict orders—

"Woah woah woah, hold on," I stop him, "orders? Orders by whom?"

He blinks again, shock at the truth he let slip through. The truth he's being hiding for years and years and years.

Your parents—your father.

My brows bunch together in confusion. "How is that possible, you're my Bound, how would he communicate with you . . ."

He hides his head, averting my gaze.