The Six: Genesis | A Reverse Harem Novel

Three

It's difficult to step into the room.

When the biometric scanner turns green with a sharp ping, I hesitate at the threshold, glancing behind me for one last reason to walk the other way. Cool air wafts down the narrow, darkened hallway and with it comes the comforting scent of jasmine and lavender. The soft glow of candles flicker in the far recesses.

Huffing, I slide my right foot forward. As I move deeper, my confidence builds. I'm ashamed to admit I haven't been to visit the altar in a few weeks. I'm afraid.

I don't want to face the hanging portraits of my mother and father. Even though I know they can't see me and the dead have no opinion about what the living do, their possible disappointment stings. I'm so damn close to chickening out, it's ridiculous.

I want to live.

Life is short. Life is precious. And if I fail now... before I've even had a chance to do the other things I want...

Do the dead have regrets?

The walls of the hallway are solid black marble. Despite the darkness, they shine like someone has recently buffed them, but that's impossible. Dull clinks echo back, responding to my heavy, dragging steps.

By the time I make it to the chamber, my heart is pounding against my chest. It's thudding so harshly, I can hear it in my ears and I worry someone else will, too, but I can't stop now. At the end of the hallway, the passage thrusts in every direction.

Just passed a white trimmed archway is a sphere shaped room. A single portrait hands in the center on the far wall, it's massive, and trimmed with the original, hand carved white trimmed frame. My parents take up the entire focus.

They're young, happy and the smiles on their faces are directed at a tiny bundle cuddled in my mother's arms. She holds me, partially leaning over my sleeping face, as my father's softened gaze kisses the both of us. His hands rest on her shoulder and cup my head, gripping us against his chest.

It's a far cry from the last facial expression I'd seen on him.

My mother was kind but firm. She pushed me to my limit while respecting the boundaries I set. He wasn't so nice.

I can't remember how many times I'd nearly drowned in our indoor pool while I learned how to swim or how many times he ordered me to run mile after mile around our familial home. Grueling hours of fitness followed advanced class, tutoring, and testing. He planned every second of my life to the razor's edge, and there was no room for diversions.

On either side of the 200 centimeter tall portrait are flat topped square end tables covered with battery operated white and yellow candles. A few have wicks, but they sag from use and the sides ooze. In the center of the room is a massive round table with a glass vase nearly as tall as me. White stargazer lilies explode from the top, artfully arranged.

Ryker's visited recently.

Next to the vase lays a periwinkle box with a neatly tied bow the size of a matchbox. Transfixed, I stare at it apprehensively. Worse things have arrived in boxes far smaller than this one.

It takes much courage to snap the light switch on and move to the table. Air from the ventilation system ruffles my hair. Instinctively, I close my arms around my stomach and venture forward.

The bow is soft in my hands, velvety and well made, and it slips away from the box with little effort. Periwinkle blue greets me head on, taunting me to take the next stop and flip open the top. Tears slip down my cheeks when I open the box.

Nestled in a silk bag is something I'd never thought I'd see again.

It's long, rectangular and features two columns of nine white diamonds side-by-side. The jewel, made from pure platinum, hangs from an anchor style chain. Clutching it in my palm, I fist my hand to my chest and sob loudly.