A Curse of Shadows - Page 37

Asher steps beside me, his voice steady. “She’s remembering already. Estee, can you hear me?”

Her response is snappish. “Of course I can, idiot. You’re standing right next to me.”

Asher raises a brow and I apologize on her behalf. “She’s never really been a fun person to wake up.” Then my eyes widen and my attention goes back to Elodee. “You didn’t correct him when he called you ‘Estee.’”

Her eyes finally open and instead of the brown I’ve always known them to be, they’re golden and bright. “Why can’t I tell what’s real and what’s not?”

“Do you know who I am?” Asher asks her and she shakes her head. “That’s okay. You’re not supposed to remember everything at once.” He turns to me. “Why don’t the two of you go into your room and you can explain things to her?”

I glance behind me, wondering why Grayson hasn’t said anything, and then I realize he’s not here. “What happened to?—”

Asher cuts me off. “He thought it would be best not to overwhelm her more than she already was. He’ll see her soon.”

Why doesn’t that surprise me?

I smile down at my best friend and now sister. “Think you can walk or am I going to have to carry you?”

“It’s about damn time you did some of the lifting between us,” she jokes as she pushes herself up, looking around. “Where the hell are we and how did we get here?”

“That’s what we’re going to chat about,” I promise, happier than I’ve ever been in my life. We might not have all the answers even between the two of us, but just having Elodee here is everything to me and I hope she’s about to handle this a hell of a lot better than I did.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ISLA

As my sister and I enter my room, the weight of anticipation settles heavily between us. I guide Elodee to the table, where she sits, her expression taut with confusion and curiosity. Silence stretches uncomfortably, amplifying my anxiety about explaining our surreal reality. The truth about Lunara and our existence as wolf shifters feels daunting, almost suffocating.

“We’re in Lunara,” Elodee states, her voice brimming with an inexplicable certainty.

I fidget with my fingers under the table, bewildered. Though also thankful for her confidence. “How do you know that?”

She gives a half-shrug, her gaze darting around the room, not quite settling. “I’ve been here before. I don’t know how, and maybe it sounds insane, but this place feels like… home.” When her eyes finally meet mine, they shimmer with an unspoken recognition.

Emotions swirl within me—relief mingled with a sting of envy. Relief that she’s accepting our reality with ease, yet envy because how does she remember and I don’t?

This might be more than I can handle on my own, yet I’m not ready to share her with anyone, so I decide to wing things on my own.

“From what I’ve learned,” I begin, “we were born here and died way too many years ago, being reborn on Earth—like reincarnation—and we, um, we’re…”

“Wolf shifters,” she finishes for me, but she frowns. “I’m remembering bits and pieces, but I don’t remember you. If we’re both from here, why don’t I remember you before these last twenty-something years?”

Her voice cracks, sending ripples of distress through me. “I don’t know,” I admit, my heart sinking with inadequacy.

Suddenly restless, Elodee stands, pacing near my bed as memories seem to flicker behind her eyes. “I’ve lived multiple lives, most on Earth and a few here,” she says, stopping to face me, tears brimming. “I had parents before. Different ones, with each life. And the last ones, the ones we shared… Gods, Is. They were everything we always dreamed of.”

“Our dad is still here,” I blurt out, seizing the chance to bridge her fragmented memories with our present. Maybe Asher was wrong. I’m not sure I’m the right person to be having this conversation with my sister, considering she seems to know much more than I do.

She comes back to me, fingers wrapping around my arms and lifting me from the chair. “Where is he?”

I wince. “Easy, El. You’re stronger here.”

“Elodee,” she muses. “That’s not actually my name. It’s Estee.”

“Oh, yeah. Mine was Isobella, but they’ve been okay with calling me ‘Isla,’” I tell her, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason.

She smiles softly and shakes her head. “I think ‘Estee’ will be just fine.”

“Right.” Why is none of this going like I imagined?