My eyes widen. “You think that’s what’s important to me? Goddess, Dad. I would’ve traded away all that for a chance at a normal life with you, even if our family wasn’t exactly ideal. Instead, your so-called debt is what gave the Archmage the perfect opportunity to propose the demon marriage, and—”
“No, Westlyn. The alleged debt just lent credibility to my so-called feebleness and put me into the society’s debt—a position I hoped would grant me better access to their plans. They were going to bind you to Zorakkov either way. You were promised to him by the dark-fae king—he created you solely to fulfill his end of the bargain and bring the prophecy to fruition. I thought if I could get in close with the society, perhaps I could stop Zorakkov from manifesting in Hunter Forsythe, but even that would’ve been a temporary Band-Aid to a problem that required major surgery. I thought I’d have more time, but in the end…”
I finish the sentence he clearly cannot. “In the end, you put your best friend’s daughter on the altar with a prince of hell.”
He nods, smart enough not to deny it.
Then, with another smile—this one bringing a sheen of pride to his eyes, “But no one suspected you’d stab him and flee.”
“No one suspected me of doinganything,” I snap. “That was the point. I was docile and powerless. Everyone let me believe it. And in the end—”
“We all underestimated you. Something tells me we’restillunderestimating you.” He’s still smiling, still looking at me as if he really is a proud father. “No one was more surprisedorthrilled at how that night played out than I was. But I couldn’t let on. I had no choice but to go into hiding with Eloise, pretending to fear the Archmage’s retribution. Somehow she made arrangements with the Forsythes to capture you and return you to them, but by then my nerves were fraying. I couldn’t… I couldn’t keep pretending. I couldn’t be part of it. I left her, but eventually, the shadow mages caught up with me, too.”
“And here we are,” I say with a deep sigh.
At this, the sadness and regret return to his eyes. “And here we are.”
I lower my head to my knees again, unable to hold his gaze as every one of my memories rearranges itself to align with this new knowledge.
Goddess, there are so many moving parts to this story. To my history. My future, if I’ve even got a chance at one.
Verrick. Eloise. The botched wedding and binding ceremony. The Archmage and his shadow magic society. The bullies who tormented me throughout childhood at Eloise’s behest.
I close my eyes and bite back a sob. I wish Rook was here. He’d help me map out all the different plot lines, weave them all together into a tale that made sense. A tale with an ending I could actually alter before it destroys us all.
But he’s not here.
None of my guys are here. They’re upstate, and I’m trapped in this cathedral, locked away from them because of the monsters who’ve been pulling the strings on my fate since long before I was born.
I don’t even know who started it. Verrick? The demons? Whoever authored the prophecy? The common ancestor demons and dark fae supposedly shared?
At this point, I guess it doesn’t even matter who started the game.
All that matters is I’m fuckingdonebeing everyone’s pawn.
“You should’ve told me, Dad,” I say, my voice cracking on the D-word, but I push on. I push on because he’s absolutely right—hedidfail me. No, not because he couldn’t stop the Archmage’s plans, not because he couldn’t unravel a dark prophecy that was millennia in the making. He failed me because he lied. Because he didn’t trust me enough to let me in. Because he let me grow up thinking I was powerless, a burden, a girl who killed her mother just by being born. He let those bullies torment me, let me move from school to school, never dealing with the issue. He let me walk down that aisle into the arms of a demon prince.
And in the end, he still couldn’t find a way to save me, because here we fucking are.
I tell him all of this, shouting at him until my voice is raw, my throat burning with twenty-two years of pent-up rage and tears. With grief. With confusion. With loneliness for a family that never could have been.
With fear of what’s to come.
But before he can respond, her cruel, terrible voice shatters the air once more.
“Aww, what a precious family reunion!” Eloise glares at us from the doorway, her eyes sharp and cunning, her smile twisted.
I have no idea how long she’s been standing there eavesdropping, but I can’t really bring myself to care.
The immensity of everything Brian confessed feels heavier than Eloise’s petty vendetta against me, her stupid demon deals with the Archmage, her whole ridiculous, backstabbing life.
But I can’t dismiss her outright. I’m still a prisoner here, and she’s still pulling the puppet strings.
She’s wearing a dress now, black and elegant, her hair swept up, makeup flawless. Two mages stand behind her, both in ceremonial black cloaks. One of them stalks over to me and jabs me in the neck with another needle before hauling me to my feet.
The feeling rushes back to my body in a wave of heat that leaves me dizzy. The moment I feel my strength return, I try to run straight for my evil stepmother, hoping I can at least get in a left-hook before they catch me.
But they’re expecting it. The mage grabs me before I take a single step, locking me in a vise grip.
