“Leela spent a century in reformation.” His statement matched the one in his mind.
Balthazar swept his thumb along the column of Leela’s throat, his palm still around her nape just like it’d been when they were sitting.
But she didn’t react to the news with panic this time.
No, her fighting spirit had taken over entirely now.
She wanted blood.
“I was given a vial of her blood about a week into her sentence. The purpose was to link me to her in case she somehow escaped the process. Then it turned into a monitoring assignment once she completed reformation.”
“Meaning you stalked me,” Leela muttered.
“I was assigned totrackyou, yes. Which is why I knew about the memory manipulation. Dian told me Melanythos had taken care of both of your memories. I asked why Balthazar wasn’t just killed. Dian stated it was to protect you, as it could harm your soul to fracture a partial blood bond.”
Leela snorted. “His ego was wounded, and he wanted Balthazar and me to suffer.” Her gaze left Balthazar to narrow at Patreel. “I’ve feared him for eternity. Because he wanted me to fear him. To fear our procreation prophecy. That wasn’t done to aid reformation. That was done to torture me.”
Balthazar agreed. That was absolutely the response of a male who didn’t appreciate being denied. He’d made Leela’s life hell for thousands of years.
“He was the one who ordered that part, right?” Leela stressed. “The part where I didn’t remember denying him and kept waiting for the dreaded day when the Fates called me up to breed with him?”
“He said it was part of your reformation, that you would be considered cured when you finally went to him willingly.” Patreel’s tone lacked emotion, but his mind processed those words through a new filter. One he’d just recently allowed himself to access.
Emotion.
“It was never about curing me,” Leela spat. “It was about torturing me. That’s why he allowed Balthazar to live. He knew the memories would haunt me and probably intends to take them all away again now. You’re just here as a ruse to waste time until he shows himself. With Melanythos, no doubt.”
Patreel frowned, his practical senses reviewing her comments and finding them darkly true.
Because it would be just like the council to make him a puppet. They’d essentially turned all of Seraphim society into a theater production with each being playing whatever role the council had given them.
An easy task to accomplish when the entire populace was brainwashed to believe emotions were a weakness that should be destroyed.
No chance for mutiny when the citizens couldn’t feel anger or passion.
Just a practical world driven by logic.
How boring and dull.
That wasn’t a life. It was a glorified prison sentence for an eternity of solitude and meaningless existence.
The Seraphim didn’t even have proper families.
“Not a ruse,” Patreel said slowly. “Vera checked my memories for tampering and found none. I’ve never learned the truth before. Not until now.”
Leela evaluated him, her lips pursing. She moved to Balthazar’s side, her arm sliding around his waist to keep him close. While she inferred Patreel spoke the truth, she didn’t trust the situation.
Balthazar felt similarly. Dian or Melanythos could appear at any moment.
Assuming they were keeping the tracker under surveillance.
They might not realize yet what Patreel had learned. And if that was the case, they likely wouldn’t even consider following him. Suspicion was an emotion, after all. They’d need concrete evidence to find any sort of logic in trailing the tracker Seraphim. Until then, they had no reason to believe he wouldn’t do his job. Especially since he’d been doing it for millennia.
Leela’s thoughts rivaled Balthazar’s assessment, but that didn’t relax her at all.
She wanted to know more about their history, how this had happened, and when Melanythos had infiltrated Balthazar’s head.
He desired the same information.
