Sighing, I cross my arms over the railing, staring out onto the expanse of the acreage. The distant bellow of one of the lumbering creatures, the strong scent that burned my senses, and the thrumb of their hoof beats. It reminded me of our pastures of horses, of course, we couldn't ride these creatures but there was an echo of home here. Acres of cows and farmland, we could build a life in a place like this if we didn't destroy it first. 

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the pack of cigarettes, rotating the box in my hand as I take in the scent. His stuff was still here, so where was he?

"What if you don't want to come back?" I mutter. Thinking of Randy's attempt to take his life, thinking of the way I felt laying in bed last night, it wouldn't surprise me if he was out there in the ether trying not to come back to us. It was a pathetic thought, I knew he loved us, I knew he would do whatever it took to find us, yet I was still questioning. 

Setting the cigarettes on the rail, I pull out my phone, calling him once more to listen to the voice mail again. "Hey. This feels silly.. but you'll laugh about it when you come back." I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose at the ridiculousness of calling him. "I'm not good at this whole parent thing, Darrius is really missing you and I'm not helping matters." Frowning, I press my cheek to the cool screen, wishing I could hear a response. 

"I really miss you, Randy." Hanging up, I find myself wishing I'd taken more pictures of us. 

Helen appears beside me, placing the plate on the rail and snagging the box of cigarettes to nearly repeat my ritual. I nearly snatch it back out of her hand, only to opt to grab the apple off the plate instead. An oversized mixture of reds and yellow, "It's a Honeycrisp." She tells me, placing the box back down as I take a bite. 

Appreciating the sweetness, I can't help but feel appreciative. 

Helen looked different, wearing a flannel shirt over a thin tank top, and a pair of aged jeans, her slender body looked stronger than I remembered. No longer girlish, she looked older, fit, with the same short hair cut though it appeared to have been cut with scissors as opposed to professionally. Her full lips were slightly pursed as those light eyes watch the boards on the deck, arms crossed over her chest. 

"Have you watched the news?" She asks, her voice low. 

"I don't have a ton of free time," I grumble, taking another bite.

"There is a movement of hero lead protests, making waves in our favor. Lotta and Ron are doing a good job trying to turn this press around on the murder charges. Hero's and magic users are making their way to the streets, defending our cause. It would seem Caspian's absence from the underbelly of this society has slowed down the wraith sightings and disappearances. I think they are going to try to spin this that Artifice and its contacts are the true murderers."

Of course, they were in some sense, but the truth was this would put us all in an interesting position. Would we stand by and lie that Verando wasn't a hired hand? We were no better if allowed that to pass too easily because we were the ones deciding who was killed.

When I don't respond, she pulls her lips into a thin line and looks over her shoulder to see what I'm looking at. The truth was nothing, in particular, I was trying to figure out who I was and where I stood in all of this. "Are we ever going to be normal again?" I finally manage. "Is this a normal thing for humans to talk about?"

She scoffs, "I've had normal human conversations for most of my life, trust me, you aren't missing anything."

So had I. Until I was eighteen, I was a prince but the lowest version of one. I was no contest for the throne, I read, I studied, I pined for friends, and wondered about my sexuality. Now, I can't help but feel like I'd missed out on how to function with a family and those around me. I was one tracked, my ability to multitask fell short in the normal parts of living day-to-day lives. It no longer occurred naturally to me, as if I was becoming defective. 

My mother had raised me, but I wasn't Darrius's mother. How could I fulfill a fatherly role when my own had written me off?

"I miss boring. I feel like I've taken the last year for granted, I spent so much time being miserable, I didn't even realize how much he did for us. I wish I had disappeared instead. I wish I hadn't pushed so hard to get my magic back..." Our children would be better off if I was the one who had to vanish. 

Her lips part to argue but my expression seems to make her reconsider. I wasn't looking for pity, or explanations of self worth, "We need your magic." She tells me, validating my drive to become whole again. It was a part of who I was, a part I'd been missing, but as Classy had warned me everything would come with a cost. I was trying to be two different people, the Nic who was a lycan, and the Nic who was the most powerful Solomonari to have existed. 

"We need each other." I finally conclude. "I've turned my back on this family, I've been so obsessed with this one portion that I don't know what to do with myself now that he's gone. I feel like... when everyone died... when we had our final push against Caspian, I locked away the part of me that would allow me to experience a loss like that ever again. Now, I don't even feel human." 

Stefan had been waiting so patiently for me to come back, I'd found a home again in my life with Marisol and Verando, Legardo and his wife, then it all came crashing down once more. I'd stopped allowing myself to start over, I'd stopped allowing myself to become attached because it only hurt that much more when they were all taken away. 

It wasn't just me anymore. I couldn't fall apart like this, I had to pull myself together if Darrius was going to have any semblance of a normal life. Helen shrugs one shoulder, "We all have at some point or another. That's the whole point of family, they're there even when you suck."

"What if he doesn't come back?" I murmur, running a hand through my hair without a shakey breath. "Helen, why hasn't he come back?"

Watching the cows just as I had, she turns to cross her own arms on the rail. Her profile was so much like her mother's, yet she had the same nose that her father and grandfather did. The same piercing eyes, the gentle sweep of her tangled short hair, a pristine white that was almost transparent in the rising sun. "Landon says we don't know what happens when people disappear. Darrius is so young, it's hard to tell if he's putting them somewhere or if they just.. stop.. existing."

"Do you think Darrius did this?" My voice is small, how could I ever forgive him? The thought killed me. 

"I think we have no idea what is going on. Kestrel has not returned, we've looked all over for people in history who have died with the same name, it would appear as though he never existed. Yet, all of Verando's things are still here... Nic, if there is anyone who could find their way back from purgatory, it's Papa."

The thought brings me very little solace. If he truly was in purgatory, I'd been there, there was no returning without magical influence. My father had appeared and pulled me out every time. Sighing heavily once more, I consider the demi-god side of his body. "Have you spoken to Malka? What does she think? Can she feel Whitewind?" My own wolf was woefully disconnected, a fracture of its former self with its mate missing. 

"Malka is guarded. We still aren't on the best terms now that she knows I wanted to overthrow Papa. Malka is a queen, she is not an Alpha, she doesn't want to be a part of the three." 

Neither did her grandfather. 

It made no sense, the timing was perfect for the cause of the disappearance but the causation didn't seem to be adding up. Caspian knew it would happen, it had happened before, so if anything sinister was to be plotted, now would be the perfect time to do so. While I was quick to blame Caspian, I'd been good at predicting his nature and this teetered on the edge of beyond what the man was capable of. He'd had dozens of chances to kill Verando, why now? How could he when he was with me?

"What does your wolf think?" She presses, bringing me out of my internal monologue. 

"It's devastated. I feel like I've been ripped in half, like a piece of me is gone and they pulled it from my core. It's beyond missing him, I hurt... I feel like I have a gaping wound in my chest." 

She tilts her head. "How would it have a bond if he stopped existing?"

"You tell me?" I snap, irritated. 

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she slowly closes her hands into fists. "We know so little about this side of things. Malka was furious the entire time I was with Kestrel.. she craves to be with Tyler. It's been tough." I'm not sure if she's trying to create conversation or change the subject, I blink in surprise that she would claim to be bonded to Tyler. I thought that ship had sailed, I figured they were done for. 

"So that's where you were," I mumble, glancing her up and down. 

"Telling him to get lost." She retorts sharply. "I'm not going back into a relationship where I'm treated like porcelain. I'm not someone's prize to be won. I don't care what the wolf thinks."

I track the herd slowly ambling across the open grass. "I'm proud of you. It's hard to fight that instinct, I'm trying like hell just to think around it and not ruin Darrius's life at the same time. Don't write him off... but don't go back just because you feel like you have to."

My advice was not what she was after, too many people in this pack were pro Tyler, I understood how being treated 'to' well with ill intentions was almost worse than being treated poorly. He loved her, adored her, but didn't see her as an equal when she could eviscerate him very easily. While I'd never had that problem with Verando, we had had our own trials that we had to overcome without people sticking their noses into every portion of our lives. Relationships were complex, especially ones that were as deep as these. 

"Thanks." She grumbles awkwardly, scuffing the wood with the toe of her shoe. "I think Darrius needs you more than anyone. He needs to learn to get a handle on this magic." 

Easier said than done when I had no magic to help him with, unless I take the enhancers that could be slowly killing me. How could I risk him making someone else disappear, or upsetting him and causing him to destroy the entire house? Darrius was the embodiment of the world's soul, he was never meant to exist in a human form. Yet, I fought for him, I so desperately wanted to give Gabriel a second chance, I couldn't spend the rest of his life being afraid of him. 

"I know."

Tilting her head, we watch the faded moon sit in the full sky. Come nightfall, we would be a totally different war zone, coming on a full month of the timeline being removed and rewriting history. "I bet Fenrir is pissed Verando cut off Caspian's hand.. there's no way he can be a vessel now, besides the fact that it probably reminds him of Tyr."

I scoff. "We haven't seen hide or hair of Fenrir since Caspian switched sides. I don't really give a fuck what he thinks, long as he gets trapped back in the underworld where he belongs."  

Helen tilts her head. "I thought Caspian had another outburst?"

"That's just Caspian... he's been steadily more tame as time has gone on, man's always been hostile," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. 

"After he touched Verando?"

I blink. "I suppose so."

"After Randy's scar's turned black?"

I had put them there, I had locked away Shadowcast into the numb tissue. "Shadowcast came to the surface."

"Why did they touch Verando if not with the intention of using him? What would be the purpose? What if the creature you put into his scars wasn't Shadowcast."

I consider this, shaking my head. I'd seen Fenrir try to get out of Caspian since then, but if we could pull humans from the timeline, surely anything was possible. I hadn't gotten many details into what had occurred during the interrogation between Verando and Caspian, I'd only seen Verando lose control and nearly become consumed by the blackness. 

We'd all assumed it'd been Shadowcast. 

I never imagined it could have been Fenrir transferring bodies. 

If that was the case, then it was me who bonded them together, it was me who sealed Fenrir into Verando's scars. 

Shoving away from the railing, I race into the house, pushing past Tonic and Legardo, rushing through the doorway to spot Caspian sitting beside Tiberius. I rush to them, gripping Caspian's shirt, yanking him up and out of his chair as I bare my teeth. "You son of a bitch."

"You don't know my mother." He spits back, dryly. Shoving him, I send him flying across the kitchen, cracking the tiles of the floor as he lands. "To what do I owe this outburst?" He scowls at me.

"You did it, didn't you? You touched him, you made Shadowcast come to the surface, only it wasn't Shadowcast was it? You're dying because your body is used up, you've already passed Fenrir on."

The room goes quiet, all conversation halted, all eyes on the dark-haired man who stares at me with a look that takes me by surprise. 

Horror. 

"No. Fenrir is inside of me." He tells me sharply, sitting up, patting himself as if somehow he could produce the creature. "It's just dormant."

"Dormant or gone?" I snarl, stepping towards him before Tiberius holds out his hand to stop me. I slap his hand away, flashing my teeth at him to back off. "Show me. Go berserk, pull the beast out, prove me wrong, Caspian. I'm begging you."

Nothing. 

Nothing happens and I can see by the look on his face that he was attempting to produce the creature. 

"Shadowcast is back in your body." Echo confirms my fear. "I can feel it, you're whole. With Whitewind gone..."

"There was an empty slot." Tiberius curses under his breath. We had all seen that he was different, lashing out, and increased acts of violence, but I'd thought it was Shadowcast's influence. Fenrir had been transferred to Verando, a more worthy vessel, a greater potential for survival when the time came. 

"Are we sure that Kestrel vanished?" Tiberius demands of Echo. 

"He gone. We've searched everywhere." Echo retorts sharply. Helen slips into the room, wrapping her arms around herself. "We would know if something had happened to him."

"Not if a professional did it." Tonic frowns. "Not if someone who's a hired gun took him out because he's not in control of his body."

"You think Verando killed Kestrel?" I think back to when we could have been apart but can't wrap my mind around many dates. We spent most of our time together, save for when I was gone but then he was either with our children or performing. 

Tiberius grows quiet, I cover my mouth with my hand and try to process the reality. "The timeline was a clever cover-up to do what he need to do to move through our ranks and figure out our plans without being noticed. I don't think Verando is out of the timeline, I think Fenrir has taken him and possibly mistaken Xaiver for our magical influence. If this is true, there is no one left to put Fenrir in... he's succeeded. He's found a vessel."

"Verando would have to accept him." Caspian retorts, climbing to his feet. 

Tiberius frowns. "Fenrir sired two sons. One of hate and one of greed. Greed and hate could embody Fenrir, I always mistook you for hatred but your Greed has definitely wrung true. Verando could easily embody hatred, while he would have to accept him, one can only resist for so long as I'm sure you know, Caspian."

He had been fighting so hard to keep that side locked away, to stay in control. We'd exhausted him, ourselves, trying to fight a villain that was in our ranks all along. Caspian being here, stirring up old emotions constantly, his younger self reminding him of his weaknesses and failures, we had worn him down. 

So it left the question, where had he taken Verando and Xaiver?