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“That wasn’t Lysandra,” he interjected. “He didn’t possess her. He shapeshifted into her.”
I blinked, fully sitting up now. “How?”
He nodded, releasing one palm to brush a strand of tangled hair away from my face. “I don’t know what he did with Lysandra, or if she was ever a part of this, but that wasn’t her.”
I bit on my lower lip and shook my head. “Is there no end to what he can do? If he can pretend to be my father and seduce my mother, convince everyone that he’s someone else?—”
“He couldn’t shapeshift into you—or me,” Jace offered. “There is a limit to his power.”
The information intrigued me. “Why not?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.
His hand rested gently on my cheek. “Cirilla surmises that we’re too powerful. She thinks he tried, but we fought him off.”
I considered this, wondering about the veracity of Cirilla’s assumption.
“Cirilla told me something else, Elix,” he added slowly. “But I’m not sure if you’re up for hearing it.”
“Tell me everything,” I insisted. “I can’t rest now, anyway.”
“You’re not Agnan’s child.”
All the air sucked out of my lungs in a giant vacuum. I felt as though my eyes popped clean out of their sockets. “What?”
“The reason the DNA test took so long was because it was run, rerun, and run again. She wanted to make absolutely certain before reporting the results. You are not Agnan’s daughter.”
“But my powers?—”
“Are still a result of dark magic. Your father was a member of the Order of Souls, a fae who was executed before you were born. He had the same shapeshifting abilities as Agnan, but he wasn’t as powerful.”
He hesitated before continuing.
“My poor mother.” I closed my eyes.
Jace cupped my face. “That man who tricked and assaulted your mother wasn’t your father. You can’t change who sired you, but you can honor the memory of the man who raised you by remembering him as your father. He loved you very much.”
My father did love me very much. “You’re right. And I loved him, too. And I can’t change the past. But if the man who sired me didn’t have dark magic?—”
“The magic in your blood has some darkness, but you’re not evil. You’ve proven that. Your powers may have manifested down a bloodline, long before your father. It may be a combination of things. All we know for sure is that Agnan is definitely not your father.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Are you just telling me this to make me feel better? About my father?”
Jace appeared offended, and I was immediately contrite. “I’m not accusing you of lying, but, I mean, how did Agnan know about me if he wasn’t my father?”
My mate raised his shoulders. “It was pretty clear that your powers weren’t typically fae,” he guessed. “Maybe there were rumors that caught his ears, and he acted on them.”
“And Lysandra? Is he her father?”
Jace swallowed and hung his head. “Yes. He is her father.”
Shock and sadness filled me for the orphaned fae who had already been through so much. It had all been because of Agnan that she was the way she was.
“How could he treat her that way?” I demanded. “She deserved better than that. All of them did! She really thought she was doing the right thing all along!”
“The bastard was a master of manipulation,” Jace offered weakly.
My body relaxed at his phrasing. “Was?” I repeated. “Is he really gone? I know you found the body, but is he dead?”
“Yes.”
