‘You’re a prince. Bethan, you need to tell us these things. Ally would have brought out the good tea set if she knew royalty was coming.’

‘I wouldn’t waste Mum’s good china on him,’ she jested.

He gripped the wheel, staring at her; it wasn’t until then she realised how hollow he was. Dana and he were always closer, sharing interests. Bethan didn’t realise it until then just how much Dana’s death would have affected him.

He asked Kellan more questions, and Bethan tried to stop her face from going red and wanting to curl up in a ball to hide from the world. She was twenty-three—why was she embarrassed by her father asking questions to a male she is not even dating?

Her father’s eyes drifted from the road. Glancing at her, he laughed.

‘You and Dana are the same; this is what she did when I met Gabriel for the first time.’

‘I haven’t heard from him since Dana’s funeral.’

She stared at Kellan through the rear-view mirror and filled him in. Gabriel was Dana’s boyfriend around the time she died.

‘He was a kind boy.’ Her father made a left turn towards their street. ‘Your mother tried to call him on her anniversary, but he didn’t answer. The phone line said the number didn’t exist. I hope he is okay.’

She couldn’t remember much of Gabriel; she met him probably a few times before Dana’s accident. She did remember a double date, when Gabriel and Tharin got into a disagreement over Circe passing another bill that favoured the vampires.

‘I liked Gabriel a lot, but he is no royalty like Kellan is,’ her father said, pulling to the driveway of her childhood home.

The front garden for the two-storey cottage had overgrown. Unruly weeds had overtaken the grass, wildflowers had grown sporadically throughout the lawn and the hedges were significantly taller than she had last seen them, almost as messy as Kellan’s hair. When she approached the front door, she saw slippery green moss cropped up on the stone path.

Her mother burst from the green door, a spitting image of herself. She brought Bethan into a warm hug, and she never felt safer. Her mum cupped her cheeks and kissed each one gently; Bethan felt the small smile crawl on her face; she stared at her mother’s freckled face and wished she never moved to Malia.

She broke away from the hug and whirled to see Kellan helping her father with bags.

‘He’s already such a gentleman,’ her mother murmured.

Kellan moved towards the path, holding not only his bag but her own, leaving her father with nothing to carry. He dropped the bags by his side and extended his hand toward her mum.

‘I’m Kellan—’