Chapter 74 The truth over coffee
DAISY
I sit on my bed, phone in hand, the screen already cracked at one corner, not from any dramatic moment, just life. I stare at the row of unanswered texts:
Me: Hey, you okay?
Me: Call me.
Me: Where are you?
My thumbs hover, but I don’t know what to say next.
It’s been too long.
Ever since Darian picked Iris up two weeks ago, asking her to hurriedly get into his car, she hasn’t shown up at school. Not that morning, not lunch, not the afternoon, not the evening and certainly not the next day.
I tried texting her. Called her. No answer. I choke back panic.
Maybe she’s just ignoring me. Maybe she’s having a moment she doesn’t want me in.
Those are kinder assumptions. The darker ones creep in anyway.
I sigh, toss my phone onto the pillow beside me, and lie back. I imagine Iris laughing, safe somewhere else, hidden. But safety is relative. I know that now.
Night comes. Darkness presses into the corners of the room. I drift off, but sleep doesn’t last. My dreams hunt me: running down corridors, knocking on locked doors, silence in place of a voice. I wake gasping, tears in my eyes.
I stare at the ceiling until dawn. When morning light seeps in, I climb out of bed, stiff and hollow, and scroll my phone again. Still nothing. No texts. No missed calls. Iris is a ghost.
I head to school anyway, shoulders squared. Routine, normalcy, they’ll help. If nothing else, I’ll see someone who saw her last. Maybe Adrian, or Zeus. But when I get there, the halls feel wrong. Empty. Ghosted.
No Adrian at his locker. No Zeus at his usual spot by the window. I cut through crowds, heart thumping. Other students glance at me. I ask, my voice laced with worry, “Have you seen Iris?” Some shake their heads. Others say “not for a while, no.”
The only people I can ask now are Darian’s brothers.
They should know where he is, right?
I fish for my phone in my bag and shoot Zeus a text. He asks me to meet him at a cafe down the road in ten and I head there quickly.
I burst through the café door, skin prickling with urgency. I scan the tables in one lightning sweep. There, Zeus sits alone, smooth and still, like he’s been waiting. My pulse spikes.
I stride over, nearly knocking over a chair. He looks up, startled.
He stands abruptly, face taut. He brushes a lock of hair from his forehead, then reaches forward and gently touches my cheek, tucking a strand behind my ear. The gesture is so small, but it jolts me.
“Daisy,” he says, voice low, cautious. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t wait. “Iris. I haven’t heard from her. I’ve called, texted. Everything. No answer.” I hiss the words. My fingers drum the tabletop.
He blinks. His face stiffens. He straightens, shoulders rigid.
I lean forward. “Do you know anything about it? Please.”
His movements lock up like a machine glitching mid-function. A smile twitches at the corner of his lips, forced and brittle. It looks faker than my overgrown acrylic nails.
He definitely knows something.
“When was the last time you saw her?” he asks, his voice a shade too casual. Like he's trying not to crack.
“Darian picked her up at school three days ago,” I fire back instantly.
That’s when I see it, the flicker. His pupils sharpen. Realization flashes across his face like a strobe light, fast and damning. He tries to blink it away, but I catch it.
He slides his hand over my shoulder, slow and deliberate. It’s meant to comfort me, to ground me. But all it does is make my heart spike.
“If she’s with Darian, then we should be rest assured that she’s safe, right?” He cocks his head to the side, voice a little too smooth.
He’s making sense. Technically.
But something in me rebels. A little voice in the pit of my stomach screaming, No. This isn’t right.
“Then why isn’t she replying to my texts or answering my calls if she’s safe?” I demand, heat rising in my throat.
For a split second, just a fraction, his smile falters. It slips, just a bit. Like a crack in a mask.
He catches himself quickly, clears his throat, and forces it back on. The act. The calm. But now, I’m not fooled. Not even close.
He definitely knows something.
And he’s not telling me.
Why wouldn’t he tell me?
My hands curl into fists on the table. My breath comes harder now. Not out of panic, out of anger.
I narrow my eyes. “You’re hiding something, Zeus.”
He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t blink. Just stares at me with that same unreadable expression.
“Sit,” Zeus says suddenly, voice low, tense.
I don’t argue. I drop back into the booth, my heart thudding like it wants out of my chest. Zeus glances around the café, leans closer, elbows on the table, voice dropping to a hush.
“The Lycan King wants Iris dead.”
I gasp, loud. Heads turn. A man by the window spills his coffee. Someone stops mid-chew. Zeus shoots me a look.
“Keep your voice down,” he mutters.
But I can’t. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. My hands fly to my mouth. “Dead?” I whisper, heart plummeting. “Why? Why would he want her dead?”
Zeus doesn’t answer right away. His jaw tightens. His fingers drum once, twice, against the table. “It’s complicated. Prophecy stuff. Old rules. She’s a threat. To their order. To their power.”
I feel my lungs collapse.
“But Darian,” he continues, “he probably took her somewhere safe. Somewhere even my father can’t sniff out easily.”
I release a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My shoulders slump. Relief washes over me in a wave so fierce it nearly sends me under. “She’s safe,” I whisper. “He got her out.”
Zeus nods once.
Then I ask, “Where’s Darian?”
His eyes flick to mine. And there’s something deadly calm in them when he replies.
“The dungeon.”
I freeze. Everything in me just stops.