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“I told you, Willow,” he choked out with a hint of a smirk. “I’d take a bullet for you.”
“Roberto!” I hissed as tears flooded my face. “Why? Why the fuck…Why…Fuck, fuck, fuck. Listen to me. You can’t die. You’re not allowed to fucking die!”
I finally achieved what he’d sacrificed his fatherly image for. He can’t simply die after watching me achieve it.
"You don’t get to die and get off scot-free, dammit,” I tried to argue like this was his fucking fault. "You fucking promised…you…you…”
My tears spilled down effortlessly, making him weakly chuckle as blood already began to pool in his mouth to the point that it spilled down the corner of his lips.
"I ain’t…losing this fight,” he struggled to say, but he was fighting for breath.
"Why isn’t he healing?” I heard Milo press, and I realized I was surrounded by at least half of my men: Viktor, Milo, Arthur, Amos, and Saint were in a circle casting various spells to try to stop the inevitable.
"There’s something in the bullet,” Viktor stressed. “It’s a rare weapon from Russia. There are only a few in the fucking world.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Saint snarled. “I-I can’t manipulate his fate.”
“Me neither,” Arthur stressed with immense concern.
"Deadly Hollow’s Bullet," Amos hissed. "It nullifies any magic that comes from another human. We can’t do anything…and I won’t be able to get the right nectar from Faerie to save him in time!”
“Someone has to be able to do something!” Viktor exclaimed.
“Alpha Roberto, hang in there! We’ve called for special help,” I heard Beta Malachite emphasize in haste.
I zoned them out once more as Roberto’s eyes were specifically on me. It was as if he couldn’t focus on anything else, his eyes growing weaker by the second as his flesh grew sickly pale.
Leaning down, I pressed my forehead against his, my voice barely there.
“Please…Papa Dearest…you…please…” I didn’t want to say the words, but the reality was truly settling in. “Please don’t die. I…still need you.”
“You…never needed me, Willow,” he whispered weakly. "You…needed a real father. One…who’d never allow his daughter…to struggle…to gain what was meant to be yours.”
His shaky hand pressed against my wet cheek as his thumb gently brushed my flesh as though he wished to remove every tear drop that escaped.
"I’m sorry, Willow. Sorry…that I…couldn’t show my love…properly. I regret it…you know. Every…day…I regret not…raising you the…right way. My way…even if it meant…not living the best way…” He struggled to catch his breath, but I knew everything he stated was nothing but the truth.
“One thing…I’ll never regret…is having you. Having…such…a powerhouse of a daughter.”
His words made a sob escape me as I shook my head.
“Don’t…be so fucking honest…you liar.” I huffed.
He couldn’t laugh, but I opened my eyes enough to see his smile as his eyes seemed so far away.
"I wasn’t…allowed to show it…but…how proud…I fucking am. My heir…my daughter…my child…and now princess.” He needed a bit of time to catch his breath before he whispered, “Better…be with those ten fuckers. They…actually love you.”
I tried not to huff and yet it came out like a pathetic laugh.
"They all probably hate you,” I said the obvious. "Apparently…Beta Malachite wants in, too.”
“Over…my dead…fucking…body,” he cursed, which made it hard to not just break down and cry.
“You’re…dying…stupid.”
“Well…I gotta…fight…harder…don’t I?”
“Stop talking!” I urged, but he cursed and ran his hand through my hair before pulling me down so he could lift his head enough to press a kiss to my forehead.
