The Degenerate (Mythics Book One)

16

 Daphne Noble lived in the small, hut-like treehouse in front of us. Wooden walls were molded smoothly into a rounded square shape, and its roof was nothing but a large patch of wildflowers. Chaotic and messy, the flowers held a certain sort of natural beauty in their uneven arrangement. Blue hyacinths drew my gaze, along with the tie-dyed petals of dahlias, tiny forget-me-nots, and classic white daisies. Trails of wisteria vines crisscrossed the house and branches of the tree all around us, wrapping all around the giant trunk and down to the tree's roots below us.

Her name was all the information we had as Rafe went in before us to make sure she was up for visitors. The way he acted had me thinking that this girl must have gone through something absolutely terrible yesterday.

Theo sneezed loudly, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

I shot him a nasty look.

He chuckled. "Sorry. Allergies."

Shadows drifted over the cream-colored curtains, illuminating them from behind.

"This place is weird," Theo said, interrupting the silence. He kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze on the curtains. There were no panes of glass in the windows, just thick scraps of fabric providing the only sense of privacy to be seen.

I thought for a moment. "What do you mean?"

His dark brows furrowed. "Everything feels too...easy. We've been on the run for months, Ivy, and now that things finally kick up a notch, we're whisked away to a safe haven?"

"These people have been nothing but nice."

"That's beside the point." His gaze held the weight of ages and all of the cobwebs of distrust that came with them. "Your mother seemed nice at first, too."

My fingers flexed at my sides as I held back the involuntary flinch that came with the thought of that woman. "She's not my mother," I stated. No matter how many memories told me otherwise. No matter how many times Jacquelyn put me to bed, cooked me meals, and even taught me how to braid my own hair. That woman was nothing to me. "I never knew her, not really." My voice came out soft and fragile.

Theo's gaze was heavy with sadness. "You deserve better."

I swallowed down my emotions. "Do I, though?" I had my doubts. The only person who'd ever raised me was able to turn her back on me in the blink of an eye. What kind of child was I? What kind of person, to make her throw me away like yesterday's trash?

I said things straight up with myself. I was unlovable, but that was nothing new. Old news, really.

The door in front of us creaked open, revealing golden lantern light that spilled across the wooden bridge we waited on. Muttering voices ceased. Then, we saw her. Daphne Noble.

Scarcely a couple of years older than us, she was barefoot and wore frayed jeans with jagged holes in the knees, the hems brushing the floor. Her shirt was a work of art itself, pink, flowy fabric covered in numerous splashes of green and orange and yellow paint. Kind gray eyes met my own, crinkling at the corners in a jubilant smile. Daphne tucked wayward locks of long hair behind her ears, each strand the white-gold of the hottest fire. Her skin was the color of sand on the beach, golden and sun-bathed.

I startled as Daphne leaned in and gave me a hug, arms tight around me. She sighed and let go, then gave Theo a hug just as fierce. His arms hovered uselessly a few inches above her embrace, as if he were unsure of what to do with himself.

As she stepped away, she beamed at us. "I know you've probably heard it so many times before," she began, "but welcome to Sanctuary."

She was so bright, so vibrant, I felt my own lips curling up in response to hers. "Thank you. I never imagined a place like this existed."