Wicked Ties (The Tether Trilogy Book 2)

After the shower, we lie in my bed, smelling of Native’s coconut and vanilla soap. The apartment is quiet at this hour, several minutes past midnight. There are no cars driving by or noisy neighbors stomping above. The heat pours out of the vents, giving the room a comforting warmth.

I curl into Caz’s body, the left side of my face resting on his chest as he lies flat on his back on the bed. One hand is tucked behind his head, the other wrapped around me.

He’s been quiet since the shower. I wish I could hear his thoughts right now. It feels weird not hearing them for so long while being with him. Now I can understand why some consider the Tether a gift. In moments like this, it would come in handy to read him, figure out what’s truly bothering him, because I’m sure if I don’t ask, he won’t tell me. But I would bet a hundred bucks that most of what has his mind tied up involves Decius.

I reach over Caz for my phone on the nightstand and click the Safari app, typing in the words cold tether and allowing the results to load. I doubt I’ll find anything, seeing as I’ve done this before, but it’s worth another shot.

“What the hell is that thing?” Caz asks, focused on my phone.

“Remember that cellphone I kept asking you about in Vakeeli?”

“That’s what that is?” He makes a noise of disapproval. “How are there so many words on it? And why is the screen so large?”

“Right now, I’m on the internet.”

“The inter-what?”

I laugh. “Okay, look.” I scroll through the phone, explaining how it all works. He’s surprised, even more so when I open Instagram and scroll through images of people he’s never seen before.

“And people voluntarily post these videos and images of themselves? For anyone in the world to see?”

“Yep.”

He shakes his head, blinking several times. “That’s absurd. Why put so much of yourselves out there? You’re revealing all your weaknesses.”

I shrug. “Sometimes in this world, people enjoy seeing others’ weaknesses because they can relate to them. It makes us realize we’re all human, and that we all make mistakes or have our bad days.”

He takes a moment to digest that. “Seems a bit excessive. You can browse for whatever you want on that thing?” He scoffs. “If I were you, I’d get rid of it.”

I fight a laugh. “I’m not getting rid of my phone, Caz.”

“Well, you won’t be seeing me with one of those things.” He straightens in the bed, bringing me back to his chest and burying his nose in my hair. A pleasing warmth swims through me, and I can’t fight my smile. I love when he does that—holds me close, nuzzles his nose everywhere.

“I want to ask you something.” I shut the screen of my phone off and return it to the nightstand.

“What’s that?”

“When we were on the way to the portal, I saw…flashbacks of certain events.” I pause, and he tenses beneath me. “They were of you and your mother. And some men on horses, chasing both of you.”

He’s still tense, and his breathing is now shallow. As badly as I want to look at him, I don’t. I want him to process what I’m saying.

“What of it?” he finally asks.

I lift my head, eyeing him. “I didn’t know that happened to you.”

“Of course, you didn’t because I never told you. Or anyone for that matter,” he returns rapidly. Then he softens it with, “I just don’t like talking about it.”

“So you bottle those memories in?” I ask in a low voice.

He’s quiet, but I don’t miss the way his jaw pulses.

I sit up fully to look at him. He’s staring up at the ceiling fan, purposely avoiding my eyes. “Caz, look at me.”

He doesn’t, so I reach for his face, forcing his eyes on mine. They shine beneath the slits of moonlight. “Tell me what happened with your mom.”

“Willow, not right now. Please.”

“I want to know.”

“Why right now? We’ve barely even escaped those awful memories. You saw them? They’re fucking devastating, Willow. Why would I want to relive that?”

“I only saw pieces of the man hurting you. I didn’t see everything.”

Briskly, he sits up and turns his back to me. Propping his elbows on his knees, he drops his head and drags his palms over the length of his face. I watch him a moment as the moonlight highlights his creamy skin, contouring the curves and muscles. I scoot to the edge of the bed next to him, and when he meets my eyes, they sparkle, but not with any sort of happiness. They sparkle with sorrow.

“You can tell me anything, Caz. You know that, don’t you? I won’t ever judge you,” I whisper.

A stretch of silence passes, then he exhales slowly. “You really want the story?” he asks.

“I just want to understand more about you, but if you’re truly not comfortable telling me, I understand, and I’ll back off.”

His head lowers, and his eyes fall to the floor. I take one of his hands, wrapping it in mine and resting my cheek on his sculpted upper arm.

“When I was eight,” he starts in a low voice. “My father, Magnus, found out about me. He had no clue that he had a son, and apparently his wife was barren, so he had no heirs.” He pauses, looking through one of the windows. “After all this with Manx, or Decius or whatever we’re to call him, I realize Magnus found out I existed because of him, and when he did, he sent my mother a message that he was coming for me.”

“Why?” I ask, confused. “Why would he just try to take you?”

“He was getting old,” Caz informs me. “When you are monarch and you turn the grand age of one-hundred-fifty, you must have an heir. Otherwise, The Council will revoke you of the position and give the role to someone else within the family. Magnus didn’t want that. He was a power-hungry piece of shit, and he was willing to do anything to keep his place. Sure, he’d slept with women, but he was very careful not to leave any of them pregnant because of his sparkling reputation, according to Maeve. Especially if the women belonged to Blackwater. I’m assuming Manx knew of Magnus’ disposition and provided him a solution: me. I’m not quite sure what Manx would have gotten out of that, but it happened. So…Magnus came for me, just to have someone fill the position. He didn’t care what my mother wanted, or that he hardly knew a damn thing about me. His goal was to take me and train me to become monarch of Blackwater. But it didn’t help that I was a bastard, and what made matters worse was Magnus’ wife hated me. She hated me for being born, for existing, and she shoved that hatred down Magnus’ throat daily. Here I was, the product of his adultery, and she despised me for it.” He sits up taller, drawing in a breath and then exhaling again. “My mum…she tried hiding me when she found out he was coming, but he found out the coordinates of where I was hiding. I assume it was Manx who gave them to him.” He clenches a fist, brows stitching together. I rub his hand, and the fist loosens. “She tried getting me away, running to Vanora where we’d be protected, but we had no time. I was taken, and so was she, and after that day I never saw her again. I lived with Magnus in Blackwater up until I was nineteen. Nineteen is when he died, but before that, he wanted to harden me. I was rebellious and didn’t want to be a part of the monarch life, so to punish me, he took me all the way to Ripple Hills, where the fighting caves are. He and Rami’s father, Buckley, were chummy then.”

“Ugh, Rami,” I mutter. Rami was the piece of shit who tried to rape me in Ripple Hills. Even though he’s dead now, courtesy of Caz blowing his brains out with a gun, I still hate him.

“Yes. That fucker. Anyway, his father and mine casted their bets on me and made me fight. If I lost, they’d beat me, or worse, shoot me with guns and then heal me with a powerful healing elixir from one of their hired Mythics. Sometimes they’d use razors to slice my abdomen or my chest. Sometimes they’d bring other fighters in to team up on me. The punishments were past the point of suffering, but always short of death. But I can tell you, in that moment and many, many years after, all I wanted was for death to steal me away.”

I wince at that, remembering the time I saw him point a gun at his own head. I squeeze his hand tighter, and he turns his gaze to me.

“I was just a boy, Willow. I was scared, alone, afraid…and Magnus didn’t care. He forced me to grow up cold and angry, just so I would become like him—a cold and angry monarch. I’d never felt such relief when I found out the lady monarch had died, and that he would be dying too. I swore when I took over that I’d never be like him—that I’d make a change and better the people.” He pauses, very briefly. “I realized some people are no better than he was, though, and that there will always be others out there who wish me dead or wish harm on the people I care about. I suppose it comes with being a leader. When I took over, Buckley thought he could still control me. He thought that I was afraid of him until I headbutted him and left him with a permanently crooked nose.”

“Is that why Blackwater feuds with Ripple Hills?” I ask.

“No. There have been many feuds between us. There are battles and wars that go back centuries. It depended totally on the reigning monarchs. Magnus and Buckley were too arrogant and lazy to feud during their reign, so they were allies for over a century. But when I and Rami took over, we were enemies from the start. I could see Buckley all over Rami, and I despised him. He thought he could come to my territory and tell me what to do, steal my rubies, and make his demands. I shut that down, and if there was one thing spoiled Rami hated, it was being told no.”

“Yeah.” I roll my eyes. “I remember.”

He studies my face, a pained expression filling his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask quickly.

He shifts beside me and exhales through parted lips. “When you said in Ripple Hills that I was killing people for no reason…” He trails off, his gaze dropping, and I feel a clench in my chest. “It’s never not for a reason, Willow. I do it before they can do anything to hurt me.”

“Oh, Caz. I’m so sorry I said that. I didn’t mean for my words to hurt you. I just didn’t understand any of it back then, but I do now. Trust me, I do.” I hold his eyes for as long as he’ll let me, and he sucks in a sharp breath, as if he finds relief in my understanding.

“As for me mum, well, she died when I was nineteen. I never got to see her again between the time I was taken and when she died…but I could have. At that age, I found out Magnus had been having one of his hired Mythics cast a spell over me. It was a shield of sorts, so that whatever I endured negatively would not be seen by The Council. I only found this out because the Mythic was so bloody drunk one night and angry at Magnus about something, that he told me everything. I was livid when I found out, so I left Blackwater and sought The Council, demanding to be out of his care. I told them all about what he was doing to me, about the fighting caves in Ripple Hills, and even let them see for themselves as they laid hands on me and filled their minds with my memories. And as I’ve told you before, harm to a child is one of the most punishable crimes. The Council decided to execute him once they found out, and when Magnus was given his sentence, he came to me, full of rage. Then he dragged me to the dungeons my mother had been kept in and had one of his men hang her.” Caz’s voice has changed. It’s thicker with equal parts agony and rage. His hand squeezes tighter around mine, not to the point of pain, but enough for me to feel just how much anguish this confession causes him.

“He killed my mother before he was executed. He did it to spite me. One last punch to the face and stab to the heart before it was his time.” He makes a strained noise. “I was so naïve and stupid then. I should’ve saved her first. I should’ve found her before going to The Council, but it’s because of me that she’s dead. I gave him that window of opportunity to kill before The Council came to end him.”

“Caz, no. No, you cannot blame yourself for that. You were just a kid. You had no idea—”

“I was a fucking idiot!” he counters, snatching his hand out of mine. He shoots off the bed and walks across the apartment, raking his fingers through his hair. “I would still have her if I’d just stuck it out, let Magnus die on his own. She didn’t deserve it—she didn’t deserve anything he did to her. He tortured her for years! He raped her and got her pregnant, and she didn’t have to keep me, but she did. She did, and after all that, I’m the one who got her killed.”

“It’s not your fault.” Hot tears creep to the corners of my eyes as I rush across the room to get to him. I clutch his face in my hands, and he tries jerking away, but I hold on to him. “You didn’t kill her, Caz. Magnus did. None of what you went through was ever your fault. You can’t possibly think that. I can’t believe you’ve spent all these years treating his burdens as your own.”

“All of it was my fault. Everything.” The lump in his throat bobs. “I’m broken beyond repair, Willow. Can’t you see that? Everything I touch either gets hurt or dies. Why do you think I rejected our Tether for so long? Why do you think I fought tooth and nail to resist you? Because I couldn’t afford anyone else I care about getting hurt. That’s why I told you to forget about me when Decius had me trapped. You deserve far better than to be with a man as terrible as me.”

My head shakes. “I don’t believe you’re broken beyond repair. Pieces of you may be broken, but they can be mended. I know they can. You have a good heart, Caz, whether you see it or not.”

“I’ve hurt and killed so many people because of my rage—because of this anger he poured inside me. He shoved it all down my throat and forced me to digest it, and now I’m this fucked up man who hates everyone and everything, and I can’t even enjoy life because I’m so angry and bitter all the time!” His blue eyes glisten as they bore into mine. “How can you still want me after all you’ve seen? After all I’ve done? Because you don’t even know the half, Willow. I’ve done so many bad things. Some of it still gives me nightmares.”

He’s shaking now, and I don’t know what to say to that as I look into his teary eyes. I wish I had the words, but I don’t, so I pull him in and hug him tight instead. I hug him until his body stops shaking and the tension melts just a little.

“I’m bound to you, Caz. And if that means I have to share your pain and help you forgive yourself, so be it. I will.” I lean back to place a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll help you heal. We’ll help each other heal.”

The pain washes over him like a tidal wave. I feel it riding through me, sinking into each organ, nerve, and strand of us. It’s astounding that I can still feel his sorrow while on Earth. Makes me think this Tether is so much bigger than anything we’ve ever imagined.

The grief in his crystal eyes lingers, and I’m not sure what else to say to make him feel better or to bring him out of this darkness that has consumed him, so I lead the way back to the bed.

He spoons me from behind, cradling me in his arms. His warm lips press to the top of my shoulder before skimming up to the bend of my neck, and we remain like this. Quiet thoughts in close proximity.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you,” he whispers on my ear. “You’re the greatest thing I’ve had in a very long time, Willow.” His arms tighten around me, like he never wants to let go, and I release a satisfied sigh, placing my hand on top of his and closing my eyes.