Epilogue

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It takes weeks to get up and do even some of the otherwise easiest activities in the world.

Sometimes I go out for a walk, sometimes I get up and cook for myself. But most of the time I don't know what I'm doing. How has it been weeks? It doesn't feel like weeks.

Either way, there seems to be a hollow in my mind. I don't remember what I've been doing these past few weeks. Have I been sleeping? Eating? Or have I just been crying?

It doesn't matter.

All I know is that in the time it took in those months to shape me into a siren who knew what she was doing, who had the supernatural world at her fingertips, it only took a few seconds for it to all fall back.

There is no vengeance, there is no hope. I have no idea where to start. And besides, I don't think a broken girl with no parents and no love and no power would be able to do anything anyway.

I tried to hit Kira after Theo disappeared down into the depths of the earth. It was wrong, but people do stupid things when they're angry, I suppose. Even so, I had still focussed any of my remaining energy into punching the hell out of her. Before I could do anything substantial, there was Scott McCall who, fast as lightning, held me back and held me as I dissolved into sobs.

I don't seek any sort of vendetta on the pack. What will that do? Nobody tells me anything, anyway. Sometimes Lydia comes over and she hugs me and tells me everything will be alright.

I don't believe her.

I don't feel as though my heart is beating or my head is working.

Theo is gone. Gone. And I'm as good as helpless. Lucien Caraway no doubt is lurking somewhere around, cultivating his strength, saving it.

But I don't mind.

There's nothing left here, is there?

It's a carcass of a life. There is no warmth nor hope.

I try not to give up hope, but as the days go on, the probability of finding Theo grow slimmer and slimmer.

One day, there's a knock on my door. I think it's Lydia, at first. I like it when Lydia visits. It makes me feel as though I'm not completely alone.

But no, Lydia would already be coming down the hallway, crooning about how I can't hide forever. No, this person just stands at the door and bangs their fist against it harder. No 'open up' or 'is there anybody in there?'

They just knock.

I get up off the couch with shaky legs, taking step after step towards the door. The person bangs their fist on the door furiously and I will my legs to go a little faster.

I grip the doorknob and twist it slowly, pulling the door open.

He stands straight and tall, with his distinct curls atop his head and a trench coat down to his mid thighs.

"Arden," Isaac Lahey says. "I have to tell you something."

END OF BOOK ONE

FLECTERE SI NEQUEO SUPEROS ACHERONTA MOVEBO

Sirens (Theo Raeken) [1]Where stories live. Discover now