“Your regrets have come too little, too late,husband,” she seethed. Her tone made a mockery of the word—of me. “So, yes, Rion. Go home, for now, nurse your wounded pride. It isn’t as though you’ve left me any choice—so I suppose I’ll be in touch.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ballard escorted me out of the cellar without so much as a word. Not that I had any to give. Calia’s parting barbs had taken everything away.
I struggled to reconcile the woman I knew with the woman who had stood before me. So many things seemed to change in the short time we were apart, but I knew better than anyone how secrets could alter your perspective of a person better than most.
She had every right to hate me; that was the only truth keeping me from stealing her away.
We walked up to the floor level of a quaint but rather exquisitely decorated cottage. The living area was open, boasting furnishings crafted of ebony wood and well-worn silver accents. Vines of ivy ran along the ceiling, ensconcing the structure as though nature's hand could keep it hidden.
“Where are we?” I asked, marveling at the simple, raw beauty of it.
“Safehouse,” Ballard replied, scratching the back of his neck. “But I guess it isn’t so safe any longer.”
“You think I would use this against you? My wi—Calia is here. I would never jeopardize her safety.”
Ballard considered my words, mulling them over until he gave a satisfied nod. “There’s much I wish to tell you, Rion, but I will confess that I hated turning you away when you came to me. Castor’s prejudices run deep, and he’s passed that trait onto his niece. But he will come around—they both will. I think this was just a shock that they both need to figure out how to navigate.”
“I do not know if she will hear me out,” I whispered. “And I do not know if I would deserve it if she did.”
“Give it time. She will come around.”
“Time is not a luxury we can afford.”
“You do not need her to forgive you in order to work together. But perhaps it would be a start—a way to show her you’ve learned from the events that took place. I don’t know the details, nor do I care to, but I can tell you that true, soul-deep love cannot be broken. Fractured, yes, but never irrevocably destroyed. If what you have is the real thing… Well, there may be hope for you yet.”
He opened the front door and ushered me out, where a car waited. “Your friends have been assured of your safety. They should be waiting at your home.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out my phone. “You will hear from us soon.”
“How soon is soon, Ballard? We cannot afford to sit on our asses and twiddle our thumbs. Leonora is out there, doing gods only know what. She’s attacked us once, and I do not think it will be the last.”
“I will do my part to ensure my…companionswill be ready to speak in a few hours. We will meet at your manor at midnight.”
“Do you truly think she will be ready to sit in the same room as me so soon?”
“I think at the end of the day, regardless of how she may feel at the moment, or the unresolved issues that lay between you, she wants to stop your mother just as much as anyone else.” He smiled. “Even if that means sitting in the same room as you.”
Though likely not his intention, Ballard’s words gave me hope. Hope that she might listen to me. Hope that we could quiet the raging storm between us. “I appreciate you,” I say, dipping my head. “I have given you no reason to be kind, but you have done so anyway.”
His eyes softened. “There is always a reason to be kind, Rion. And I think you are more worthy than you let yourself believe. I knew your father, however briefly, and he was a good man. Knowing you were left to deal with Leonora in her absence…” Ballard shook his head softly. “There is strength in you that may end up saving us all.”
There were no words I could offer, so I simply nodded and slid into the back of the car, watching the idyllic cottage fade into the distance.
Jasper steppedout of the house with a furious scowl before my car had come to a stop. “Itoldyou!” He seethed. “I told you not to follow him, to let him go, but you didn’t listen. And why would you? Why would my opinion mean anything to a man who holds his own so high? Gods above, Rion?—”
His tirade stopped the moment I stepped out of the vehicle. I did not know what I looked like, but I could imagine what he saw. Worry creased his brows as he took me in. “Are you?—”
“She is alive,” I whispered hoarsely, bringing my gaze to meet his. “Calia is alive.”
He stepped forward. “How?”
“I do not know.”
Jasper launched forward, wrapping me in a hug and clapping my back. “Holy shit! You were right! Gods, I’m so sorry, I—”He pulled back, frowning at my lack of enthusiasm. “Wait, why aren’t we celebrating? Where is she?”
I looked down at the ground, ashamed to meet my brother’s eyes. On so many occasions, he had tried to convince me to tell Calia the truth. But I was stubborn. I had assumed I knew better. She would not have wanted me if she had known the truth. That shame was to be mine and mine alone. Now I understood how foolish that was—Calia was far better than I deserved. My insecurities had destroyed us before we had even begun.
“Because I kept the truth from her. She does not trust me. I do not know if she ever will.”
