Page 50 of Inheritance
I huffed out, “To save Adrien’s sister because they were threatening to kill her. I figured the boys could handle the soldiers and I would come back here to save you guys...which reminds me, where the hell are Queen Adira and Queen Emberleigh?”
“Next room, where they are taking you, most likely,” Damien’s father offered.
I frowned as a nervous, almost panicked look filled my father’s face, prompting me to ask, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head and gripped my hand, “I just want you to know...well, saying I am proud of you doesn’t seem to cut it. I know I sent you to the Summit when you didn’t want to go, but you are becoming far more a leader than I could ever be—“
“Yes, yes sappy moment,” Queen Ava’s voice filled the space, and my dad let out a frustrated sound. Instantly, the guards were on me as she walked up and offered me a sickly-sweet smile, squeezing my jaw. “Ama, you never should have come to the Summit. It seems women in your family make the mistake of going places they don’t belong.”
“Don’t.” My father’s voice sounded sharp as he snapped at her, and I narrowed my eyes.
“What the hell do you mean?” I demanded.
“Oh, I think you’re about to find out,” she sang happily as the guards led me into the next cell room over. Instantly, my eyes went to Adrien’s mom and Damien’s mom, sitting together on the floor with...with someone new. At the same time, I knew intuitively that this person wasn’t new at all.
I might not have remembered her, but everything about her rang as familiar, and I felt like someone had pulverized my chest, broken my knees, and rolled over me. I felt sickness roll in my stomach as tears of anger filled my eyes.
“Amare?” the traitor asked as she stood up immediately, like she thought she would welcome me with open arms.
The guards shoved me into the cell, locking it behind me, and I turned to face the one woman I had been harboring anger towards for what felt like my entire life...my mother.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ama
Icouldn’t tell you what my mother looked like...I meannowI could, obviously. But the last time I had seen her picture was when I had come across the drawing in my father’s office. I had been looking at one of the desk drawers, snooping around because I was bored, and when I had found the piece of art, I had somehow known who it was.
It might have been the likeness to myself, but it was more the way she stared at the person drawing the picture, with so much affection and love it had me bursting into tears.
Of course, my father had heard and came from his meeting down the hall, realizing that I’d found the picture he had drawn back when they were together.
Since then, I had never come across any picture or reference to her besides our occasional conversation...it was like she’d never existed. Something that I assumed was the point, considering my reaction at the time. I mean, could you blame my dad? He was a single dad raising a daughter all on his own—of course he was going to go out of his way to avoid said daughter bursting into tears and having fits of anger.
I wasn’t bursting into tears now, though. No. Right now I was pissed as I looked into the face of a woman who looked so much like me it was actually a bit terrifying. There was no denying who this woman was, yet there were still clear differences between us.
Everything about her was warm. Her hair was a rich chocolate and amber color with red undertones, and it hung to her waist. Even in prison, she seemed to maintain an elegant air about herself, much like the two other women sitting near her. Her horns were red, unlike mine, and her eyes were a rich amber color that almost seemed to have a hint of red on the outer rim. She was gorgeous and looked like a person you would want to hug...but I didn’t want to hug her.
No, I wanted to punch her. Very, very hard.
“Ama, are you okay?” Damien’s mother drew my attention, and I found the woman watching me with a maternal warmth and concern that had the sting of being in the cell with the same woman who had left me lessening slightly.
“Yes,” I hedged and looked towards Adrien’s mom as well. “Both of your sons are here and fighting. I traded myself to come back here so Senka could be handed back over to them. I figured it would let me check in on everyone before the others came and grabbed us.” Because I had absolutely no doubt that wasexactlywhat would happen.
“Thank you, Ama,” Adrien’s mom wrapped her arms around me, and I melted into the hug then pulled back, my gaze moving back to my own mother. Her eyes were dark and filled with sadness as she stood awkwardly to the side, watching me with a bit of fascination but mostly caution. I imagined that I outwardly looked like I wanted to hurt her, so that probably was a smart idea.
“What are you doing here?” I questioned, holding back the millions of other questions I had for her that would just lead to heartache.
“You know who I am?” she asked, inhaling sharply.
“You look just like me, but with lighter hair and red horns. It would be hard not to,” I said flippantly. My voice was far more even than expected, despite feeling like my knees were about to give out, which would cause me to fall to the ground and rage cry.
Her eyes shaded with pain, probably from the coldness in my tone. “I don’t know what to say—“
“Nothing,” I bit out, not wanting to hear her excuses for being a shit mother. “You literally say nothing to me and stay the fuck away from me until we get out of here...unless...” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you fucking working for the House of Runes? If I find out you are part of this, I will absolutely—“
“Breathe,” Adrien’s mom appeared in front of me, cutting off my line of sight. Which was probably good because I was very close to absolutely losing it here. I closed my eyes as I let out a slow breath, knowing that she was right.
“Carys,” Damien’s mom said quietly. “Maybe she needs some space.”
