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“I never thought I’d have the chance to see my child. Never. God, she is so special, Tac.” She lowered her voice. “I wanted more than anything for you to have that special. Have a piece of us. Hold our child. Know her. Watch her grow into a beautiful strong woman. That’s all I wanted from the moment I knew I was pregnant.”
I stiffened. “You should’ve told me.”
She didn’t say anything.
Then she stood on her tiptoes, tilted her head, and lightly kissed me on the mouth. “You did good, Waleron.” She never called me Waleron—Never. “With Abby. Jedrik told me what you did. She’ll learn to adjust, even if she doesn’t realize that now. Maybe some of that ice around your heart is melting.”
“Abby hates me,” I said. “As does Damien. I don’t know what he will do if he ever finds out she’s alive.”
Delara half-smiled. “I do. He’ll go after her.” She ran a finger across my jaw. A touch so familiar, yet so lost to the memories I had to bury. “We have a remarkable daughter who came from our love, Waleron. That is more special than you’ll ever know.”
My breath stilled as a single tear trailed down her cheek. Everything inside me wanted to grab her and not let go, but instead, I stared, unable to move as Delara picked up her bag and brushed by me.
I listened to her footsteps on the stairs, and then the gallery door opened and closed.
“Maitagarri,” I whispered.
She was gone.
“Fuuuuuck!” A deep, crazed roar escaped.
My Ink burned around my throat. Its movement just as crazed as my shout as it violently tried to escape me. I picked up a chair and threw it across the room. It crashed into the wall, breaking apart.
It was the beginning of my destruction.
