Entwined

by A. J. Rosen

  Entwined

  A. J. Rosen

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Dedication

  For my dad, Joe, and my mom, Myke. I love you both infinity times infinity. My angels and those who have this book in their hands now, thank you for giving Entwined a chance and may your dreams come true.

  Prologue

  The words soul mate send chills down my spine. The average person might find comfort in the idea of having someone who shares every aspect of their life, but I know better.

  I belong to an ancient race of humans descended from the Greek gods and goddesses—the Hellenicus. My ancestors are also closely tied to the origin of the soul mate. I have seen the torment caused by the existence of soul mates, and so, I dread the day when I’ll be reunited with mine.

  Of course, not all of my people feel the same way. We have been taught to take pride in our history, to be gracious about our ability to reconnect with our soul mates. As Hellenicus, we learn from a young age where we come from and where we sit in the hierarchy of our community. Reciting our history in my sleep was nothing; that was how much it had been drilled into me over the years.

  Centuries ago, before the Golden Age, there were the three parents—the Sun, the Earth, and the Moon, and each of them had offspring. The Sun produced the men, the Earth produced the women, and the Moon produced the androgynes. The original human form was a hideous sight to behold, having one head with two faces, four arms, four legs, and two sets of genitalia. These humans rolled, hand over hand and foot over foot, by manner of cartwheels at double speed. These original humans had been created to be strong and fast and free and powerful, and they roamed the earth with a great deal more freedom and power than humans have now.

  The power eventually went to their heads. They thought that they could stop giving offerings to the gods and goddesses and be gods in their own right. They decided they deserved a place on Mount Olympus alongside the gods; a rebellion broke out and humans scaled the mountain to attack. Obviously, it wasn’t a good idea and it led to an inevitable defeat. The Hellenicus commemorate this battle as the Day of Prideful Folly.

  Because of the humans’ audacity, the gods, with their limitless power, pondered how to punish them. Zeus could burn them to dust with his lightning bolts, just as he’d done to the giants. Poseidon could drown the fools with an enormous wave. Or Hades could lock the creatures in the depths of Tartarus for eternity.

  But the gods loved a little drama for their own amusement, and they also loved to be worshipped. Zeus realized that humans weren’t the real threat—it was their oversized egos that needed adjustment. He stripped them of their arrogance by splitting them into two with his lightning bolts, making them half as fast and half as strong. Not only would it put them in their place, but it would also double the number of those giving tribute to the gods. Problem solved, right?

  Well, no. The halved creatures ran around frantically, looking for their other halves, seeking them out, embracing them, and trying to be one again. The creatures who had been double women naturally sought out women. Those who had been double men sought out men. And the androgynes sought out members of the opposite gender. But, unable to rejoin, they lived in utter misery and began to starve to death in their sorrow.

  Mindful of his need for worshippers, Zeus instructed Apollo to create a means for the creatures to reunite, if only briefly. Apollo did so by turning the genitals toward the belly side of the body. According to the legend, when the two halves finally found each other, they would have an unspoken understanding. They would lay with each other in unity and know no greater joy, and when each of them was reincarnated after they died, they would be reunited in their next lives.

  To complicate things further, the gods and goddesses mingled with the newly divided humans, fornicating with them and producing demigods. These demigods would then have children of their own, and so on, until clans were built. These clans became known as the Hellenicus—my ancestors.

  Over the generations, the Hellenicus spread out around the globe. We were taught to take pride in our history, and so, despite the diaspora, we have always held on to our traditions. But one thing has kept us divided: the three castes. Pure Royals, Royals, and Regulars.

  Pure Royals retained the top shelf of our hierarchy because they were the descendants of the Big Three: the Lord of the Sky, Zeus; the Lord of the Sea, Poseidon; and the Lord of the Underworld, Hades. It was easy to tell who belonged to the Pure Royals by looking at their eyes. Pure Royals who had blue eyes were from the Christoulakis family, Zeus’s descendants. Green eyes belonged to the Ambrosia family, Poseidon’s descendants. And finally, those with dark brown, nearly black eyes, were from the now-extinct Stavros family, Hades’s descendants.

  Slightly below the Pure Royals were the Royals, the descendants of the remaining Olympian gods and goddesses. Unlike the Pure Royals, who maintained their original ancient Greek family name, the Royals’ family names were influenced by the culture and language of their geographical locations. For example, Hera’s descendants were originally known as the Themistoklis family, but in Australia, it was Tavoularis, and in Bulgaria, it became something entirely different: Petrova. I didn’t even bother trying to remember all their names, though. Most Royals would jump at the chance to let you know their royal lineage, anyway. Besides, it was also obvious who was a Royal from the size of their wallet.

  Then there was the lowest caste, slightly above your standard-issue humans. That was where I fit in: the Regulars. Look it up in the dictionary and it was precisely what I was supposed to be: average, common, uniform, consistent, and fixed. No overflowing bank accounts, no exotic vacations, no sports cars, or big houses. There was a god for everything under the sun, but of course, us Regulars didn’t share a lineage with the fancy, powerful ones. We came from the many gods and goddesses who didn’t have a seat on Mount Olympus. They were the gods and goddesses of regular things, like the god of sleep, Hypnos, and the god of the west wind, Zephyros. It was next to impossible to keep track of a Regular’s lineage—there were too many minor gods and too many of us.

  Other than being the descendants of the gods and goddesses, the Hellenicus had one other thing in common: to honor our demigod lineage, Apollo wanted to set us apart from normal humans—or, as we called them, the Nescient—and awarded us an extraordinary ability to help us find our soul mates. Our gift allowed us to read our other half’s mind, something the Nescient couldn’t do. That way, even though we were continuously reincarnated, we would always be able to find each other.

  Every year, the Court—a heavily guarded compound located in Denali, Alaska—held a revered event known as the Gathering. It was a chance for all the Hellenicus from around the world to come together in the hopes of being reunited with their
soul mates. In our eighteenth year, during our first Gathering, our clairaudient gift was awakened through a sacred ritual known as the Awakening Ceremony. Then we would wait for the moment when we met our other half. A single touch could ignite what we called a click—a phenomenon that allowed us to hear our soul mate’s thoughts. It was how we knew we had found the one.

  I would be eighteen soon. Tomorrow I would officially go to the Court for the first time. And find out if my life would change forever.

  Chapter One

  “Remember to set your alarm, Avery,” my mother shouted from downstairs. Despite Katherine Montgomery’s small stature, she had a loud, stern voice. I was in the middle of brushing my teeth, so I couldn’t respond to her right away. “Avery! Did you hear what I just said?”

  “Yes, Mom!” I opened the bathroom door so she could hear me clearly. “I got it. I’m brushing my teeth.”

  “Tomorrow is a big day. You need to be prepared in case you meet your soul mate.”

  Soul mate.

  I shuddered. That word alone ignited the same reaction I got from watching a horror movie alone in my bedroom at midnight. I could always turn off the movie, but there was no escaping my fate.

  I was seventeen now, but I would turn eighteen on December 22. I would be attending my first Gathering to awaken my clairaudient ability. Thinking about the long procession, the formality, and the fact that I had to dress up for the occasion was exhausting. After all, there was no guarantee that your soul mate would be at the Gathering in your first year—or even your fifth or sixth. Or even at all. Sometimes a Hellenicus died still waiting to meet their soul mate. My mom came upstairs and we met in the hallway.

  “Hurry up and get to sleep. Eye bags aren’t attractive.”

  “Mom, relax. Maybe I won’t meet mine this year,” I said.

  “But maybe you will,” she said. “I met your dad during my first Gathering. Not everyone’s so lucky to meet their soul mate at their first Gathering, but we’re the descendants of—”

  “Tyche, the goddess of luck,” I said, having been reminded at least a dozen times a day. Everyone knew that it was impossible for Regulars to trace their lineage, so it drove me crazy that she insisted we were the descendants of Tyche. I had just about the worst luck in the world, which convinced me that my mom had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Exactly. We’re descendants of the goddess of luck! You should know better that—”

  What if she was right? What if I did meet my soul mate this year? My body instinctively shivered at the thought.

  The other Hellenicus would be surprised if they knew how repulsed I was at the prospect of reuniting with my soul mate. Most claimed that having a soul mate was romantic and that we should be grateful for Apollo’s gift of the click. But for me, having a soul mate was more like being subject to an arranged marriage that I could never run away from, even if I wanted to. Once I was Awakened, it would be possible for me to have a click that would cause my soul mate’s mind to be instantly linked to mine. I would always be able to hear my soul mate’s thoughts, and they would always be able to hear mine. If that wasn’t a total breach of privacy, I didn’t know what was. And the idea of being tied to someone I possibly didn’t even know existed until the day we were revealed to be soul mates was the icing on the cake.

  Honestly, I’d prefer to be a Nescient. At least they could ignore the whole soul-mate situation if they wanted to. Of course, this was all merely wishful thinking. As a Hellenicus I was destined to be reunited with my soul mate in the most invasive way possible.

  “—girls pray to Aphrodite, wishing to be reunited with their soul mate as soon as possible. You should be praying too. Let me see if I can get—”

  “Mom.” I stopped her before she signed me up for some obscure Greek ritual that I didn’t even know about. “It’s late. Didn’t you say you wanted me to get to sleep early?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Go back to your room and have a good rest.”

  I quickly headed to my bedroom before my mom had a change of heart. It was rare for us not to bicker, and I knew that I should cherish this moment. As I lay down on my bed and stared at the ceiling, I thought about how impossible it was to escape my destiny. It was so disheartening.

  The Fates shaped each of our lives. They were the three weaving goddesses—Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos—who were in charge of assigning mortals to their destinies. From birth to death to how and when we would meet our other half, and even whether we would meet them in this lifetime—everything was in the hands of these three goddesses. If even the Great Zeus, king of the gods, could not overrule their decree, how did I stand a chance?

  I reached for the shoe box hidden underneath my bed. This was my liberation. Since the day I had decided that I wanted none of this soul-mate business, I had been saving up every penny I had. There was a faded photo buried underneath the crumpled money stuffed inside the box. It was of a pale girl with insufferable auburn frizz for hair and dark-brown eyes that were too big for her small oval face. Next to her was an olive-skinned guy with dark hair. They were both smiling, wind blowing the hair from their faces, sunlight shining on their foreheads. Me and Bryan. Tears prickled the corners of my eyes, and I took a deep breath.

  He was supposed to be here with me. We were supposed to escape together.

  I wiped my tears away with my sleeves. I wished I could go a day, or even an hour, without thinking about him or being reminded of him, but it was impossible when everything and everywhere evoked something about him—even this room. He used to sit on the floor with me, and we’d spend hours talking about our dreams and what we wanted to do in life.

  The Davises had moved next door ten years ago; they were Regulars too. While my house was always quiet, practically a ghost house, Bryan’s had been the other way around. Every morning his mom turned on the radio and tuned into a country music channel while doing housework (I disliked country music because I’d heard more than my share of it). Despite going to the same school, Bryan and I never shared anything but awkward hellos for the first five years we lived next to each other.

  But then his father kicked him out of the house. Six months ago, Bryan’s mother had a terrible accident while hiking. She lost her footing and slid down the edge of the hill, hitting her head against a rock on the way down. She ended up in a coma. Instead of being there for his wife, Bryan’s dad cozied up to a co-worker. Bryan found out about his dad’s secret affair one day after coming home early from visiting his mom at the hospital.

  With country music–free mornings, I had been getting used to sleeping in, but that morning, slapping, clacking, and crashing sounds jolted me awake. Bryan had confronted his dad bright and early, causing havoc before the birds had even started chirping. Everyone on our street heard the details of their argument, crystal clear. Disturbed by the noise, I ran to my window and caught sight of Bryan dashing out the front door, carrying nothing but his backpack. His usual slick, jet-black hair was disheveled, and his face was red with anger. Catching his breath, he brushed away a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead and looked back at his house before walking away. I watched him until I could no longer see any glimpse of his grey backpack and white sneakers.

  My day went on much like it had begun, with my parents arguing. Most of their fight took place inside their heads, but every now and then my dad would shout, “Holy Zeus,” and my mom would slam cupboards and doors. It wasn’t enough to clue me in on the cause of their disagreement, but it was enough to make me want to lock myself in my room with my head hidden underneath my pillow. After I’d listened to them for the majority of the day, Mom called me downstairs to demand I go buy the sour cream that she’d forgotten at the grocery store. Something told me that they weren’t arguing about the forgotten sour cream, but I was happy to have an excuse to get out of the house for some fresh air.

  To avoid having to spend more time at home, I took t
he long route home after shopping and passed the playground. Bryan was sitting on the swing, his backpack flopped on the ground by his feet. He was staring at the ground, deep in thought, a frown wrinkled across his forehead and a yellowish bruise on his tear-stained cheek. It must have been tough to find out about your parent’s infidelity and then, to top it all off, be kicked out for confronting them about it.

  I must have said something out loud because suddenly Bryan lifted his face and our gazes met. The way he looked at me, with eyes the deepest shade of the richest earth, made me feel exposed. Neither of us knew what to say after what had happened earlier that day. So, hey, I also happen to think your dad is an asshole. Kudos on standing up to him for your mom, was definitely not a good conversation starter. Instead I squeaked out a lame, “Hi.”

  “Hey.” He greeted me. “I’m sorry you had to hear all that. It probably ruined your morning and anyone else’s who heard my fight with”—he paused as he appeared to have a battle in his head over what he should call his father, finally settling on—“Daniel.”

  “It’s fine. I hope things get better, though,” I said.

  “I doubt it will. I mean, I’m here ready to sleep on the swing.”

  “I’d take the slide if I were you. At least you could lay on your back.”

  “Good idea.” He smiled. His bottom teeth were slightly crooked but very white. “Maybe I’ll do that.”

  I lifted my left wrist to check the time on my rectangle-shaped watch. If I stayed for another minute, my parents, particularly my dad, would call the SWAT team to look for me. He was that protective and paranoid. “Look, I have to get back. My parents will worry, so I’ll see you around?”

  “See you around, neighbor.”

  I felt guilty leaving him there, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him for the rest of the evening.

  For several nights in a row, once the sun had set, I would find something I needed to buy at the mini-mart—excuses to go out and meet Bryan. I’d bring him food and we’d talk about being Hellenicus and rant about all the Royal pain in the asses at school. One week went by and his dad had still not allowed him back home, so I offered to let him stay at my house. In secret, he’d climb in and out of my room using the tree outside my window. He’d sneak in late at night and leave early in the morning before my parents, or any of our prying neighbors, woke up.