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My father is unconvinced.
“You’re saying what you want to be true, not what you could actually know. You have a dream of what you think life would be like with him … so did Sebastian with Yelena. Reality is much more cruel.”
I hate when he uses that as a weapon against me. His own worst mistake, and our family’s—an anvil around my neck that was forged before I was ever born.
My dad pushes on. “Isee you for who you are, Sabrina. I know your intelligence, your passion, your potential. It won’t flicker out like a candle, it will burn all your life. You have time, you don’t have to rush. Get your schooling. Grow up a little more. Then I won’t oppose you seeing Adrik.”
This is a heavy compromise from him—more than I could have expected. It has an effect on me.
I hug him, something we don’t do often. His arms are warmer than you’d think—not unlike my mom’s.
I feel safe with him. I feel loved. I know how powerfully he needs to protect me, and for once that doesn’t feel like chains.
“Thank you for coming out here, Dad. I’m glad I got to see you again before I leave.”
He kisses the top of my head, stroking his palm gently against my back.
“You’ll understand someday how much I love you.”
I’m torn in half, between the family I love and the man I want more than anything.
I turn my face against his shoulder to keep the tears back, because even with my father, I won’t allow myself to cry.
* * *
18
ADRIK
Because Sabrina has to leave so early in the morning, only Nix is up to say goodbye to her.
Sabrina trundles her suitcase down the front steps, looking ashen in the diluted light.
I take the suitcase from her, hoisting it into the backseat of Rafe’s car.
Sabrina follows in uncharacteristic silence.
She’s barely spoken to me since her drive with her father. Nero left directly afterward, his work done. She’s going back to school. I won’t see her again for eight months at least.
As I drive her to the very last place I want to take her, I want to argue again. Hell, I want to turn this car in the opposite direction and abduct her. But it would be pointless—I want Sabrina free and willing, or not at all.
She leans against the car door as if she’s exhausted. I’ve never seen her like this. Usually she overflows with an energy so electric that it almost sears your retinas to look at her.
I understand the power of a father. I’ve had my conflicts with my own dad—times when I’ve bristled at his conservatism, his caution that can feel like wet mud I have to wade through on my way to anything new. He’s a good leader, a good teacher—I emulate his methods with my own men. But he’s always been willing to follow Ivan, while I refuse to be second to anyone.
Sabrina shares my hunger for independence, I know she does. That’s why she’s so tormented returning to Kingmakers.
But she’s younger than me. She’s not ready to shake off the weight of everyone else’s expectations and advice. There’s no point in trying to pile my own desires on the burden threatening to break her back.
Or … maybe she simply doesn’t feel the way I do.
She’s unhappy, I can see that … but actions tell the truth. She’s leaving. What more do I need to know?
We pull up outside the airport in Portland.
I lift her suitcase out of the car, hating every part of that motion. I want to say something to her, and I consider several options, discarding each one in turn.
I’ll miss you …pithy, insufficient.
