Amynta

As promised, when my shift was over at the library my blue Eclipse was waiting for me in the parking lot. Work was tedious, all I could think about was Harry and his pack. After Harry left, Tasha told me she no longer wished for an explanation. She figured I was caught in a maddening rabbit hole, that she no longer wanted any part of. Tasha told me that at this point all she could do was make sure I did not get myself killed. I was grateful for this, as I do not think she would believe me anyway. I am not quite sure if I believe it myself.

As I drew closer to my apartment, a nervous feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. These nerves were not that of my own, but of the familiar boy I had seen only hours earlier. Harry was inside of mine and Tasha’s apartment, I could sense it. I turned off my car and made my way inside. All of the lights were switched on, and the tall, lanky boy was leaning against the white hallway wall. He seemed to have been waiting on my arrival.

“You’re home. I grew worried, you seemed so distracted today. I did not want to bother you at work so I just came here.” Harry rushed his words, and I laughed at him. I slipped my fall coat off my shoulders, and placed it on the rack. I then kicked my Jordan’s off my feet, and walked over to Harry. He seemed to tense as I approached him, and seemed significantly less confident then he did during our first encounter.

“If you worry about me every time I am preoccupied my dear, you will never stop worrying. As for you breaking into my apartment, that's probably not a good idea. If Tasha had come on, she would have skinned you alive.” I explained to him, he left out an awkward laugh and scratched the back of his head. I grabbed Harry’s hand, and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on his cheek, right about where his dimple was. I had hopped the gesture would bring him comfort, but as his cheeks heated up and he refused to meet my eye, I realized I had only made the suddenly shy boy become even more bashful.

“My job is to worry about you Amynta.” Harry whispered hoarsely, and I allowed a blush of my own to creep upon my cheeks. I decided to let his comment linger in the air, as I was pulled away by a pleasant smell coming from my kitchen. I looked to him and raised an eyebrow curiously, then ventured into the kitchen. When I reached the small and yellow room, I saw a meal on the table. Harry had cooked a beautiful steak, potatoes, green beans, and rolls. My stomach nearly growled at the sight, I had yet to eat since this morning.

“I figured you would be hungry. Humans are meant to eat at least three meals a day, and you have only eaten once.” Harry mumbled sheepishly. I turned around to face him, and saw that he had a boyish grin on his face. The creature was trying so hard to be sweet to me already.

“How do you know I’ve only eaten once today? Are you stalking me?” I questioned him. Harry shook his head no, and laughed a bit.

“Not intentionally, I can just sense these things about you. I can feel your emotions, pain, needs, desires, and just about anything else. I know when you are near me, and when you are far from me. The further you are the less I can feel.” He answered honesty, and I could relate. Ever since I had come into contact with Harry, I could feel what he was feeling. Right now for example I could feel a sense of admiration radiating off of him, that was also reflected as a glint in his bright green eyes.

I thanked Harry for cooking, and ate the food. I was a bit nervous at first because he sat down and watched me eat, not eating himself as he did not require “human food.” Conversation did creep upon us eventually though as I told Harry about my day, and began telling him more about my personal encounter with his heart. The object lay softly beating in its chest inside my purse still. Harry had insisted I keep it with me, reassuring me I was the safest place for it. I was a bit skeptical, but I do so anyway. I got to the part where I was telling him about the boy I saw in the woods and he stopped me.

“Amy, visions such as those are not normal. That was no vision, the creature you're describing is a Deviprya. What is it he said to you again?” Harry explained and I shook my head. I closed my eyes and tried to remember him. He had speed that now reminded me of Harry’s. The boy had a thick accent, I remembered it well.

“He told me he hoped I found a good one. He called me sis. I don't have any brothers or sisters Harry.” I explained to him. I heard Harry sigh loudly and then he took out his phone. He began talking to whom I assumed was Liam. The emerald eyed boy had worry laced in his voice. When he hung up we both went quiet. Soon Liam, Cheryl, and Harry’s mother showed up to my door. I welcomed them in, and told them exactly what I told Harry.

“Well it definitely sounds like a Deviprya. I can't seem to figure out why he would say that to Amynta.” Anne said, her eyebrows furrowed in a similar fashion to Harry’s. I shook my head at them, thoroughly confused.

“You guys said that Deviprya’s have green eyes. This man didn't, his eyes where a deep brown, nearly black. He couldn't have been a Deviprya.” I told them, and the room became silent yet again, except for Cheryl’s cursing. She walked up to me, with disgust. I backed away from the women I had grown not to like, and I grabbed Harry’s hand.

“Cheryl stand down. You fucking know better.” Harry growled at her, and he pushed me slightly behind him. She didn’t seem fazed by her pack leader, and kept staring me down.

“Harry you know as well as I do that if his eyes were brown, then that thing is a Daemonium. I have no doubt in my mind that you bitch is rela-” Harry cut the girl off, his eyes glowing green with anger. By glowing I mean that they were illuminating an emerald light, and honestly I was frightened.

“You think I haven't already come to that conclusion myself. Amynta is my MATE, and you shall not disrespect her. I don’t bloody care to whom my mate is related to Cheryl, she is mine now.” Harry yelled at her, looking as if he was about to kill the british brunette. I had never been more ecstatic that Tasha was late coming home. I also slightly upset with the words Harry had chosen. Regardless of how this Deviprya stuff works, I did not belong to any one. I was my own person. Cheryl backed off from me, slightly cowering at the sight of her leader. I watched as she stepped closer to Liam who didn't seem pleased with his own companion.

“While I don’t agree with Cheryl's choice of words, we do need to consider what she is saying. We’ve seen an influx of Daemoniun activity in the area since she found your heart. All of us need to figure out why, together as a family.” LIam compromised, and Harry let out a sigh. He looked off to the side and rubbed his forehead, intent in thought. I noticed how his dimples fell from his face, and eyebrows came together in a frown. Harry’s hand fell from his face, and moved to the small of my back. My touch seemed to comfort him, but only slighty.

“Amynta doll, I think we need to talk to your father. He has to know something.” Harry insisted, being weary as he spoke. I knew he was right, but the last thing I wanted to do was talk to my dad about this. Since meeting Harry, I had learned that my dad had been lying about my mom to me for my entire life. I was afraid to come to him, and while I loved my father dearly, recent revelations have left me unaware if I could even trust him.

“He has been lying to me about my mom for years, why would he be honest now?” I asked sadly. Harry’s hand brushed the hair out of my face, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something. His face fell when he realized he didn't have comforting words to offer me. Anne walked over to me, and gave me a warm smile. The type of smile only a mother could give, and automatically left you feeling calmer than before.

“ Honey I'm sure you're father meant well. We don't know why he kept the truth about your mother from you, but if my intuition is correct, he was only trying to protect. It's what parents do.” She reassured me, and looked to her son as she said the last part. I nodded and finally agreed. We took my car over to my dad's house which was only ten minutes away.

I pulled into the driveway of my childhood home, dimly lit with a flickering porch light. It was a decent sized pastel blue house, behind it my Nana’s vineyard held acres of purple grapes. I walked up the creaky steps and to the white door, the four Deviprya’s close behind me. Reaching into my purse, I pulled out a key chain I had just for dad's house. It held four keys, which I used to unlock each lock on the front door. A lock for each time my dad's paranoia exceeded my previous expectations.

“He's probably asleep.” I told them, not looking forward to this confrontation. Cheryl let out a growl, and pushed past me. She reached for the black, glass like door handle. As she twisted it she shrieked in pain. The door creaked open as she fell to the ground clutching her hand.

“WHY THE FUCK DOES YOUR DAD HAVE AN OBSIDIAN DOOR HANDLE!?” Cheryl yelled at me. I watched as glittering green tears slipped past her eyes, another reminder that she wasn't human. Liam was holding her, attempting to comfort his injured and enraged mate. Harry turned to me, and held my shoulders.

“Love I need you to listen very closely. Obsidian is deadly to my kind, where else is it located in this house?” Harry asked me sternly. I felt like a deer caught in headlights. I hadn't a clue on how to answer his question, I was unaware that the doorknob was made of the volcanic rock to begin with.

Just as I part my lips to speak I heard the cocking of a shotgun. I turned to the door and there stood my dad, fully dressed in a suit, and gun aimed for Harry’s head. The curly headed boy seemed unfazed by the weapon, and raised a curious eyebrow to my father.

“There's plenty molten rock in this gun, so I suggest you step away from my daughter.” My dad snapped at the boy in front of me. Harry now seemed startled, but did not part from me. Instead he did the opposite, and grabbed my hand making my dad let a warning sign slip from his mouth. Fearful for the green eyed I had come to adore, I stepped in front of him.

“Dad I can't let you shoot him! You can't do that!” I yelled at him. My father turned to me, his eyes softening.

“Honey I'm sure you may think he's sweet, and worth protecting but he's manipulated you. I'm assuming you know what they are now. They manipulate human emotions so they can feed off of them.” My dad tried to explain to me, but his efforts did not get him anywhere. I shielded the boy even more, and felt his hand grab my him. My father sigh, rubbing his creased forehead.

“I’m here because I want answers, that I know you have. They need them to.” I told my father coldly, a hint of hurt evident in my voice. My dad nodded, and lowered the gun. I watched as he stepped aside for us to enter the house. Cautiously the four Deviprya stepped into the house, their eyes refusing to leave my father. Cheryl’s eyes held a glare as Liam guided her past him. I followed their lead, as dad lead them to my living room. I looked to the bar covered windows with sad eyes, the locks and barricades holding a new meaning. My dad feared these creatures for reasons I have yet to understand.

“My mom was like them, wasn't she?” I asked my dad, a sternness evident in my voice. I wanted him to know that I was being serious, and that I couldn't take another lie. My dad sighed and let out a sad laugh. His eyes refused to meet mine, and peered off to the side as if he was lost in a melancholy memory.

“I would hope they aren't like your mother or her… pack. Your mother spoke of Angelus Deviprya, but never said good things. The only thing she ever told me of them that was not an insult is she told me their eyes were green.” My father explained looking closely at Harry’s eyes. Harry’s emeralds stared back at him curiously, eyebrows crinkled creating soft lines on his forehead. I gave my father a look that insisted he carry on.

“I was maybe thirty-one when I met your mother, teaching philosophy at Syracuse University. She looked as if she were in her mid-twenties but her voice was aged, and her eyes held a millennium of memories. The first thing that stuck out to me was the smirk she held as she lectured on Socrates. I didn't care for her when I first made her acquaintance, she seemed almost wicked. At the end of class she told me she never cared for Socrates. She explained to me that he was too comfortable with his mortality, speaking as if she knew the man herself.” My dad begun, his voice dancing on a line somewhere between fear and sadness. I recalled my father reading Socrates extensively when I was a child. He would sometimes laugh when he did so, and other times he would let out defeated cries. I had always believed him to be crazy.

“The next day when she came into class, i still felt disdain for her when I looked at her. It wasn't until her eyes met mine that it changed. I felt this intoxicating adoration for her that I couldn’t push away. It was so strong every one of my senses took it in. When she looked at me I could taste honey on the tip of my tongue, smell roses fresh from the garden, and I… I felt such an intense love for a woman, I venture to say, annoyed me at best seconds before…” My dad trailed of remembering it all. I looked to Harry who now had a sympathetic expression on his face.

“She made you to love her.” Harry stated rather than question. My dad pulled himself out of the blissful, yet horrifying, memory and nodded.

“Aye, that she did. She was pregnant before I even knew what she was.” My father responded, his voice held a lingering remorse that he attempted to hide. His efforts were wasted because a part of me knew if it hadn’t been for my mother… or me for that matter, my father would still be studying and lecturing at a university. Dad would be pursuing his dreams with a normal wife, and normal children.

“Who was she Mr. Lennan.” Harry’s mother finally spoke. Anne carried a grave expression, her eyes hard as she looked to him. My dad sighed and looked to the ground.

“Her name was Amara. When her mother first told me what she was she called herself Amara of Athens, the first Deviprya.”
.

Notes

I'M BACK!!!

So we learned that Amynta's mother was THE FIRST Deviprya. What do you think this will mean for Amynta?

What do you think her mom did to her dad that made him so paranoid?

And more importantly...

WHAT SHOULD AMYNTA AND HARRY'S SHIP NAME BE?!!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!

All the Love,

~JR

P.S. THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO VOTED FOR DEVIPRYA FOR BEST FANTSY YOU ALL ARE AMAZING!!