Chapter 29: Pulse - Hunger & Harmony
By Rosslyn Whims
The music box twinkles softly. Along with it, I can almost hear her. A bard with a fierce spirit and a beautiful voice. With a dark-haired child swaddled in a peasant’s cot, a bastard disregarded. He was richer than any of the king’s heirs, though—power and gold pale in comparison to a mother’s love.
Silence harbors the end,
The crown will crack before it bends.
A song unsung will call her name,
And love will set the halls aflame.
No blood will bind, no voice will reign,
She’ll laugh and dance where once was pain.
Her pulse that calls the last-born heir,
The hollow throne and subjects stare.
For change comes cloaked in red and light,
The rhythm that disrupts the night.
A queen comes soft with shattered key,
And crowns a king that longs to be free.
The true lullaby fades out, and I clutch the paper tighter. These last four sentences complete it.
“I wrote this?” I ask, and my parents nod.
“You’d just started first grade,” my dad says. “Of course, we were proud that you were writing so well, but . . .”
I glance down at the big, rounded handwriting. It’s jarring compared to the words themselves. No wonder they were terrified.
“I’ll admit . . .we don’t know everything. Probably not even half of it,” he continues.
“We’d heard this word ‘Dissonant.’ They’d appear in human bloodlines touched by vampires,” my mom says quietly. “Firsthand accounts passed through generations. Warnings of children who had a particular connection with music, who could hear things others couldn’t . . .” She gestures to the paper. “That knew things you couldn’t explain. Even your grandma knew it when we showed her.”
My parents exchange a sad glance. For the first time, everything starts making sense.
“She told me we haven’t had a Dissonant in many generations, but we couldn’t risk it. Her dying wish was for us to protect you to any end.” Her voice shakes. “Erasing you was doable. Even if you hated us, you were still here. Safe.”
I sit with those words for a silent moment. A Dissonant appearing meant tragedy. The threat of vampires, yes, but even Hunters have tried to weaponize me. A wave of guilt wells up with a few more tears, but I can’t blame myself. It still stands that they hid everything from me.
“I know we’ve been harsh,” my mom continues. “I admit, my obsession with saving you became stifling. My worry became anger.”
“And the night . . .I ran away . . .” I murmur.
Apprehension passes over their faces. I’ve never let that old wound become a scar. That ends tonight.
“What do you know?”
My question is firm, despite my quivering tone. They exchange another look before my father speaks.
“We still don’t know. All the signs of a vampire attack, but . . .”
He chokes up.
“You were bruised, but not broken.” My mom fusses with the music box. “Our worst fears came true, and just a few hours of losing you . . .We could never risk it again.”
A nightmare, through and through. It’s sobering. My anger remains, but smaller, softer in my understanding. If only they’d just told me. I stare at the music box, watching her fingers run over the metal details.
Knowing myself, I would’ve continued rebelling. I was always meant to end up right here.
If they don’t know what happened, at least it means they didn’t orchestrate it. Cold comfort, considering I’ll never know what did.
“We’ve always assumed it was a vampire seeking to destroy you,” my mom whispers as she pulls away from it.
“Dissonants are known as weapons. Created by who? That, we’ve never learned,” my dad says. “But vampires were suddenly public knowledge. Revered, even, over the coming years. They didn’t move in secret anymore, and that made concealing a threat against them all the more important.”
A threat. According to the Court and even Hunters, I’m Niko’s demise.
But this lullaby. My heart steadies at its promises, and even Cass spoke of it being the truth. With each lyric clicked into place, I see the whole picture now.
Can I trust that? Am I the queen with a shattered key? Will I crown Niko?
Can I set him free?
I look back at my parents. I’ve resented them for so long, I don’t know how to fully repair that. Maybe I don’t have to, though. If I take it from here, one day at a time . . .
“I don’t think I’m a weapon,” I say, folding the paper again.
“What?”
My dad’s eyes bug out at me. Just as alarmed, my mom pauses.
“How?”
When my parents speak, I feel my stomach tightening. Only this time, I take a breath. We haven’t trusted each other for almost twenty-three years. It has to start somewhere.
“These sentences aren’t just words,” I say, holding up the paper. “They’re lyrics.”
How do I explain Dissonant notes? That the Vox Crown knew my name? Could they ever understand Lady Evelyn’s signature butterfly etched over my heart? That my bond with Niko settled once we didn’t resist?
When I look at their cautious faces, I know now isn’t the time.
“This is the last piece of a puzzle I’ve been searching for. It’s . . .the answer.”
I gather myself up, sliding the folded paper into my pocket after I stand. My parents quickly follow, my mom’s worry returning.
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
A small smile touches my lips, and I nod.
“I am.”
“Where?” my dad asks, voice just as hesitant. “Why? You know now why you shouldn’t.”
For the first time in a really long time, I open my arms. After we’ve all huddled in an embrace, I let myself relax against them. They hug me, and for once, it feels genuine. Like they’re holding me, and not just a fragile ideal.
I can finally hug them back. I don’t know how long it will take to fully forgive them, but I won’t rush myself.
When I pull back, I blink away my tears. They’re both barely holding it together.
“Trust me.”
It’s what I need more than anything right now.
“Cadence . . .”
Before my mom can finish, my phone starts ringing. I hear it from downstairs, echoing from my open bedroom. My brows crease. Who would be calling me?
Why is my pulse stuttering?
“Hold on,” I say before I turn and hurry down the ladder.
It’s not anxiety over my parents. Something different flares under my ribs, sharp and building.
When I get to my personal phone, I don’t recognize the number. Still, something in me is screaming to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Cadence!”
The pressure in my chest deepens when I hear his frantic voice.
“Ez?” I exclaim. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Where are you? I’m coming to get you,” he says, and I’m nearly breathless at how wrecked he sounds.
“My parents' house.” I clutch the phone tighter. “What’s going on? Isn’t everyone heading to Sancte Noctis?”
“His Majesty and Selene went ahead.” His voice drops, and my heart almost stops beating. “There was an ambush.”
Phantom pain crescendos, and I clutch my chest.
“How did Hunters—”
My blood runs cold.
“It wasn’t them.”