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“Don’t you want us to be more powerful?” She presses her palms together.
“No,” I laugh.
“Ungrateful,” Travis grunts. “If we didn’t—”
Betty shakes her head, gripping his hand, and I narrow my eyes.
“Oh, please,” I sputter. “How is that a surprise? You didn’t want to be parents. Granny raised me, and let you live your life. I saw you every two to three years. You stayed for a day and left, having better things to do. When did I get my heart broken for the first time?” I lift a brow and continue. “How old was I when I started my period? How about the first time I cried when I couldn’t control my powers or when someone bullied me for wearing bright clothes?” I pause, and Betty looks away. “You didn’t care. Granny did, and she was all I needed. Just give up on the idea of me falling into your plans.”
I let out a breath and cross my arms, looking at Betty, then Travis. I stopped calling them Mom and Dad a long time ago. The only time I do it is when I’m explaining who they are to those who wouldn’t understand why I call them by their names.
“Does Aria have a soul bond?” Travis asks.
“Aria isn’t any of your business,” I hiss.
“We haven’t seen her for years. We have a right to know her,” Betty sneers.
“This is ridiculous,” Mateo hums.
“Have they always been like this?” Rome frowns, and Mara moves toward him.
“This is none of your business.” Travis straightens, backing up his wife.
The door flies open before I can respond, and Granny hustles inside, slamming it behind her.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she sings, brushing her hair back. “They got the drop on me.” She glares at her daughter. “Way too slick for your own good.” Granny turns to me. “Sunshine.” Holding her arms out, she runs toward me. “I missed you so.”
“I missed you.” I wrap my arms around her and enjoy her familiar scent of love and flowers. “You didn’t miss much.”
“Mom,” Betty whines. “You shouldn’t interfere.”
“Such bull.” Granny pulls back, smiles at me, before she turns to them. “I told you to give it up. You didn’t listen. You never listened, and then you met him, and it’s worse.”
“We have—”
“No.” Granny throws her arm out, and vines wrap around their legs and chests. “I don’t want to hear it. Let me greet my granddaughter.” She finishes with a large vine twined around their heads and mouths.
“Damn,” Lace breathes.
“Badass,” Rome laughs.
Granny twirls around, her eyes crinkling. “Savy. Who are these stunning people?” She looks at Archer and wiggles her eyebrows.
“This is Archer.” I circle his forearm. “My soul bond.”
“Ohh…” She claps her hands. “He’s very handsome.”
“Granny, he can hear you,” I chide.
“I know.” She leans toward him. “You are very handsome.”
“Thanks…” Archer smiles.
“Gwendolyn,” I say.
“Or Gwen.” Granny stares at him.
“Quit flirting,” I drawl.
