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“Clan Leader Caldes,” I said in a polite but distant voice as a greeting.
“Dassa Dawn,” he replied in a similar tone. “Would you do me the honor of walking with me?”
I swallowed hard and gave him a stiff nod. He smiled. His relief and genuine happiness took me aback. I had expected him to take on a haughty air, as if my acceptance had not only been expected but also his due. He opened the large doors and gestured for me to proceed. I thanked him with another nod, this display of good manners clashing with the image I’d been unfairly creating in my head of what this encounter would be like.
As we exited the building, my father took the lead, heading quietly towards the large open area between the barracks and the small arena a couple of hundred meters away. Reddish-brown stones covered the squarish place, which could be deemed a small town square or plaza. Here, people apparently used to gather to socialize and place bets before the fights, when this used to be the primary arena. It was completely open, without any obstacles that could shelter us from view.
While it could have been a ploy to show everyone that he was spending time with their Dassa, I got a distinct feeling that he had actually chosen this location for me. We were far enough from indiscreet ears to be able to speak freely, but in a public enough space that should I feel uncomfortable at any time, I would be able to walk away or call for aid—not that I expected this would be necessary.
It wasn’t until we almost reached the center of the square, walking at the slow pace of two people taking a leisurely stroll in the woods, that my father finally broke the somewhat awkward silence between us.
“When Keran returned from Haven, we expected him to bring back some unbelievable news regarding what had transpired over there,” my father said in a pensive tone. “But nothing had prepared me for part of that news to be finding out that I have an adult daughter.”
“I’m sure that must have been shocking,” I said in a neutral voice.
“Shocking? No, not at all,” he replied as if I had said something silly. “Surprising, mind-blowing, yes. But above all, elating.”
I turned my head to give him a sideways glance upon hearing that last word. I hated the uncertainty I felt, and especially the needy little girl within me rearing her head in the hopes of being wanted. He held my gaze unwaveringly with his eyes disturbingly identical to mine.
“I always wanted a daughter, but Fate only ever gave me sons… or so I thought,” he continued.
“Even a hybrid one?” I countered, my tone involuntarily hardening.
He stopped walking and turned to face me with a very serious expression. As a pureblood male, he towered over me by a good head, despite my 6’4”. My father wasn’t as massive as Keran, but he definitely fit the big and intimidating stereotype. He kept his dark brown hair fairly short, and like all Braxian males, he had no facial hair—aside from the thick eyebrows on their almost Neanderthal-like strong foreheads—and wore a skin-tight shirt that hid nothing of the impressive muscles of his chest and arms. I didn’t know his exact age, probably late sixties, like Ravik. But by human standards, he’d look no more than in his early forties.
“Times have changed, Dawn. Granted, not so very long ago, it would have been more problematic. But there is no more stigma associated with that. New laws protect you and all other hybrids,” he said in a very serious tone. His gaze roamed over me as if he couldn’t believe I was truly standing before him. “I wish I had known sooner.”
I stiffened, instinctive distrust and wariness making me overly aggressive. “Why? What would it have given you to have known sooner? Would you have forced me to come here?”
He recoiled. The hurt look in his eyes shamed me. So far, he hadn’t given me any reason to attack him or imply he wished me ill in any way. And yet, for some reason, the urge to lash out and berate him burned my tongue.
“Ancestors, absolutely not! At least not at first,” he amended, looking at me with a slightly offended expression. “Surely you know how horribly you would have been abused? I may have many faults, but I never would have wanted my own child—my only daughter—subjected to what our laws permitted. Your mother was wise to have secreted you away.”
“If you were so against this type of violence, you are the Clan Leader. You could have stopped it,” I challenged.
My father shook his head and ran nervous fingers through his short dark-brown hair. My throat tightened at the look of sorrow that flashed over his rough features.
“You will find out soon enough that strength and power rules Braxia,” he said in a slightly tired voice. “I couldn’t have forbidden what the law permitted, and worse still, what the previous Magnar promoted. Ravik’s father was a monster. He hunted hybrids for fun. He had an entire trophy room with the skulls sometimes even the spines of the ones he had killed.”
I swallowed hard and hugged myself, my heart breaking for all those innocents whose only crime had been to have been sired on an off-worlder.
“Gerwin would have hunted you,” my father said with a haunted look in his eyes laced with deep pain. “I don’t know where I went wrong with that boy. He always had such hatred and lust for violence in his heart. There was no redeeming him. And yet, I loved him. He was my firstborn. No parent should ever have to bury their child. Least of all watch him die in the horrible fashion he did.
“I heard some rather… concerning things about him,” I said cautiously.
My father snorted, his gaze lost in thought while he slowly shook his head. I couldn’t say if it was in disbelief or disgust… maybe a mix of both. After a beat, he refocused on me with a stern and determined look.
“There’s no need for euphemisms between us, Daughter. Gerwin was a cruel and uncontrollable beast. As much as it hurt my heart as his father, I never questioned that my son needed to be made an example of. Of course, I defended him and pleaded on his behalf as was my duty as both his sire and Clan Leader. After all, his shame was the entire clan’s to bear as well.”
As much as a part of me empathized with the pain he had undoubtedly felt at watching his heir get executed in such a brutal and public fashion, another remained suspicious.
“For him to be so cruel and full of hatred, he must have learned it from somewhere,” I said, my intense stare making it clear I questioned what part he might have had in this.
His face hardened, and he held my gaze unwaveringly, daring me to call him a liar.
“He certainly did not learn it from me. I have many,manyfaults, but I do not enjoy torture. I find no pleasure in abusing those weaker than me. If I want to fight, it will be with someone of equal or greater power so that I can prove my worth and my strength. Only cowards challenge those they are guaranteed to defeat.”
Feeling chastised, I nodded and lowered my gaze. We stood quietly for a second, then my father turned away and started walking again at that very slow pace. I followed without a word.
