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“When he was alive?” Domenico was stunned.
She looked at him miserably. “No. When he was dead.”
When Domenico got the whole story out of his wife, he shook his head. “You’re exhausted. You’re imagining things.”
“I’m not imagining things.” She stomped her foot.
“Then prove it.”
“You can’t see him. You don’t believe in them.”
“And you did?”
She squirmed at his mocking gaze. “Inside, I guess.”
He rubbed his aching head. “Cara, this just isn’t a good time. I have things to do, and I still have to take care of Kevin.”
Misty felt instantly guilty. He was right. He was doing his best to fix things. It was unfair of her to burden him with another dilemma. “I’m sorry.” She hugged him tightly.
He kissed her hair. “We’ll talk about this more tonight.”
She nodded but knew she didn’t have the time to wait for tonight. So much was at stake.
“I told you he wouldn’t believe you,” Daryl said knowingly when she returned to the master bedroom.
She sat on her bed. “I had to try.”
“What next?”
“Are you really sure your father is contemplating---” She couldn’t say the word because it was too horrible to imagine.
“War?” Daryl sobered. “Yes. Against humans. Your species, Misty. And for the wrong reasons. He’s blinded by his grief. He thinks those who attacked your brother and Domenico’s friend were humans.”
“You should talk to him, Daryl.”
“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. I’ve tried so hard to reach out to him but it was impossible. You’re the first one among Lyccans who could see me. You have to make him believe me first. And then I promise you, your brother Kevin---”
She shook her head quickly. “No, Daryl. I’m not helping you because of that. Domenico says he’ll make it possible for Kevin to become Lyccan and I believe him.”
Daryl slowly smiled. “You’re unbelievably naïve. You know that, right?”
Misty grumbled, “Is that the way to talk to your savior?”
“If I were straight, I’d give you a passionate kiss.”
She laughed.
“But since I’m not, can I kiss Domenico baby instead?”
“Over my dead body.”
The next day, Misty woke up early, waiting for Domenico to leave for the office before dressing up. She chose her clothes carefully, mindful of Daryl’s warnings. She had to dress like a lady because his father was the old-fashioned sort. In the end, she selected another one-piece creation of Mark’s, a wraparound dress of blue and black vertical stripes and matched it with a pair of dainty but sensible mules.
Misty tied her hair up in a neat bun, allowing wisps of hair to frame her face. She hoped she looked like a princess – a sensible one since what she was about to tell the Castellano pack leader would not sound sensible at the start.
“I’ll be out shopping,” Misty told Domenico’s butler, Thompson, her gaze averted because she knew the old man would know she was lying if Misty were to look at him.
“Of course, madam. What time should you be back if the master is to ask?”
“I’m, umm, not sure, but I’ll call him.” She hurried away before Thompson could ask more questions.
Thompson stood for a moment, staring after his mistress’ back, before deciding to place a call to the prince. It was better to be safe than sorry, especially with the ongoing threat to their existence.
Daryl acted as her guard, telling her where to go and what to say when she finally reached the ornate gates leading to the ancestral mansion of the Castellanos. As their land was near the evergreens, the mansion was built to protect its habitants from the cold, with its brick exterior and numerous billowing chimneys.
Misty waited for what seemed like an hour before the pack leader finally came to the foyer.
She came to her feet immediately. “G-good morning, sir.”
He gestured to the sofa and she sat down again.
When he was seated himself, he asked without preamble, “Is this about your younger brother?”
She shook her head.
He didn’t seem to believe her. “Does Domenico know you’re here?”
She almost cringed. “N-no.”
“Then what exactly do you want?” His lips curled. “Or are you offering yourself in the bargain?”
It took Misty a bit to understand his meaning. “Oh dear God, no! No offense, but oh, no.” She almost shuddered at the thought of making love to any other man beside Domenico. “No, really, no.”
The old man looked almost disgruntled. “A simple no would have sufficed. Why are you here then?”
“It’s about your son.”
His face became cold. “What about him?”
“I have a message.”
“From the grave?” he mocked.
“Sort of…”
Rage filled his gaze and he shot to his feet. “Out!”
“Wait, please!” she cried, knowing she was about to be dragged away and perhaps an internal war waged between the Moretti and Castellano clans if she wasn’t able to say her piece. “I know that on the day your son died, you locked yourself in his room and you said, you know. You kept saying that ‘you know’. And he said he understood.”
The pack leader’s face turned ashen.
“No. How could you know---” He looked around suddenly, his voice turning hoarse as he asked, “Is my son really here?”
The bleakness and hope warring in the old man’s eyes made Misty cry. Beside her, Daryl was already weeping noisily.
“Is he here?” the Castellano pack leader shouted hoarsely.
Sobbing, she nodded. “Y-yes.”
The old man slowly sat down. “Daryl?”
“Tell him he has to believe in me first,” Daryl sniffed.
Misty nodded. Looking at the old man, she said, “But you have to believe in him first to see him.”
“I believe him,” the old man choked out. “I believe in him, I believe he’s here. I want him here, whatever he was, whatever he is.” His eyes widened. “Daryl?”
Daryl smiled even as more tears trailed down his face. “Father, I’m back.”
Ensconced in the private office of the pack leader, the old man immediately demanded the story of his son’s life since his assumed death. It started when Daryl had befriended a faerie when he was heartbroken. Daryl’s life became even more complicated when a former lover had started to spread rumors about his sexuality, and he had known it would come only be a matter of time before the truth would come out. Unwilling to cause his father scandal, he had chosen to join his new friend – now his partner – in his world, even if it meant turning into a faerie himself and giving up his Lyccan blood.
