My aunt’s gaze lingered for a few more moments before she returned her gaze to her brother.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing, Derek. You, Sofia and the rest… You do what you have to do. I think this pregnancy is just making me extra sensitive to… things.”

My aunt, I knew, had a gift of sight.

I had to be careful of her.

As they exchanged words of affection and bade their goodbyes, I couldn’t ignore the slight tugging deep inside of me. It felt like these people were missing pieces from my life.

And yet overshadowing everything was a burning feeling of resentment. Of frustration. Of anger.

Nuriya had revealed to me the way my father had always been treated by them. How my grandfather had gone out of his way to pit him against Derek, how his siblings had always held a bias against him—almost as though he was an outsider—and how neglected he had been by the whole lot of them.

They’d never bothered to take the time to understand why he behaved the way he did. Not his own father, and not even Vivienne—who’d certainly been more partial to him than Derek. Why would they, when it was so easy to just label him as the black sheep?

These people were the reason I’d never had the chance to meet my father. The reason I would never meet him.

And they were the reason why Benjamin Novak was prince of this place instead of me.

As Gregor Novak’s eldest son, my father should’ve been ruling over this magnificent island today. Even when my father had still been living, Derek Novak had taken the spotlight—for no reason other than some so-called prophecy that he was to be the one to lead.

Indignation boiled up within me, as it always did whenever I thought of the injustices done to my father. I breathed in deeply, regaining control of my temper and calming my mind.

As the dragons shifted into their beastly state and the crowd of vampires climbed onto their backs, I forced myself to think of more positive things—like how perfectly The Shade’s rulers leaving along with all these dragons had panned out for me. I couldn’t have asked for better timing.

I remained in my spot, watching as the dragons disappeared into the overcast sky, before continuing on my way. I sped up into a sprint, moving away from the beach, through the woods, until I reached the most rural and least inhabited part of the island. I stopped at the end of a sprawling field where an abundance of vegetables were growing.

I set my eyes on a small wooden building at the far end of it. I guessed that it had once been the house of a farmer, or perhaps a family of fieldworkers. From the state Amaya and I had found it in, it clearly hadn’t been stepped inside for years. Which made it the perfect temporary residence for the witch and me. She had fixed a few leaky holes and made it overall more comfortable, and this had been our shelter since arriving in The Shade.

I traveled the rest of the way to our residence, and, gripping the old handle, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

I was pleased to see that Amaya had not gone wandering anywhere. She was sitting on a wooden rocking chair and looked up the moment I entered.

Sensing that it was me, she removed the invisibility spell, her eyes widening as I lowered the body of the mermaid down onto the wooden floorboards.

“I wasn’t expecting you back so soon,” she said, moving closer toward the mermaid.

“I wasn’t expecting it either.”

She crouched down and gripped the hair of the mermaid, tugging roughly at it as she examined the state of her.

“You know what to do now,” I said.

She looked up, locking eyes with me. She nodded, a stoic expression on her face.

“I’ll start preparing the potion,” she replied.

Amaya lit the old stove and placed on top of it a black cauldron that she had managed to swipe from Corrine’s spell room—along with an assortment of other ingredients. As the witch picked up a rusted blade and stooped down to slice off the first sliver of flesh from the mermaid’s tail, I stepped back out of the cabin.

I moved away from the building—and the creature’s groaning—and further into the fields. I stopped once I reached their borders. I breathed in the rich woody scent emitting from the soil, still moist from the light rain we’d had earlier in the day. A refreshing breeze blew against my skin. I listened to the humming of the birds, and the whispering of the trees.

As I stood there, relishing the peace and beauty of the island, even in the midst of adversaries, I felt closer to what I imagined home should feel like than I ever had in my life.

And although his time here was long past, I also felt closer to my father. Closer than I’d ever hoped to feel. And soon, I would feel closer still.

Once my ode to him was complete.