PART I
THE CRUST
*
"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged cupid painted blind."
-William Shakespeare
Eighteen Years Ago
Zephyr, 10
Broken bones hurt.
Zephyr struggled to lie still, alone in the hospital room. The nice nurse had just ushered her mama and papa out. They promised to return in the morning, but they had to go home to take care of her new sister, Zenith. Zephyr called her Zen. She was five, really pretty and quiet, but she loved playing with Zephyr, and Zephyr loved her already. She wanted to go home.
She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. It was cold, and her sides ached.
"Why is such a pretty girl crying?"
The voice came from the bed across the room. Zephyr looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. There hadn't been any beds available in the pediatric ward, the nurse had told her parents, so they'd placed her in here with an older lady for the two nights. The woman looked terribly thin and sick.
"I want—" Zephyr hiccuped. "—to go home."
"You will, sweetheart." The lady smiled at her. She looked about her mama's age, maybe a bit older. "Your parents will take you tomorrow."
Zephyr nodded. Yes, she just had to stay two nights. "Will your parents come for you, too?"
The woman's smile turned sad. "No, I'm not going home. Although my son wants to take me."
"Then why don't you go with him?" Zephyr leaned to the side, her little mind distracted by the nice lady with the tubes running into her arms.
The lady laughed, but her voice broke. "I don't have much time left in this world, sweetie. I'm just sad I'll be leaving him behind with no one to care for him."
That was a concept Zephyr could not understand. Everyone had family, didn't they? She had so many uncles and aunts and cousins she barely remembered all their names. "He has no one else?"
The woman shook her head sadly.
Her heart ach ed. Everyone should have a family.
Zephyr slid down from the bed, her side protesting with a sharp sting, and wobbled over to the older woman. She extended her pinkie. "I can be there for him. I promise. What's his name?"
The woman laughed again, a tear tracing down her cheek, and hooked her rough pinkie with Zephyr's. "You're a sweet child."
Zephyr nodded. She liked being sweet. "His name?" she asked, stuck on the boy who didn't have a family.
"Alessandro. Alessandro Villanova. Alpha."