Page 64 of Dragons Of Shadow and Sea

Which means...

I take a staggering step back.

"Did you-- When he--" I can even get the words out. "Did you know? Did you--"

He raises one arched brow, a little of his previous distance returning to his tone. "Capture, torture and murder my own brother?"

"Um..." When he puts it that way, I get even more twisted up inside.

He lets out a rough huff of a laugh before scrubbing a hand down his face. "I know the rest of world thinks we're monsters. But that would be a new low." He looks at me with narrowed eyes. "Even for us."

My stomach clenches. The way he uses the words we and us is sharp--and definitely intentional. The idea that I fall into any sort of we or us with this man is going to take some getting used to, and I've filled my quota for emotional breakdowns for the day.

"But did you know?" I ask again.

Glancing away, he nods, sharp but damning, and it's a shot to the very center of my gut. "Too little and too late, but yes. I knew they'd taken him."

I can't decide whether to be enraged or impressed with his honesty. "And you just let it happen." My anger and grief threaten to choke me. My voice drops to barely more than a whisper. "You let them kill my mom."

Exhaling, he gathers himself. "I have regrets." He looks me in the eye once more. "Your mother was an innocent. And she was brave." He exhales roughly, his brows twitching. "Stupid, but brave."

I want to lunge at him and put my hands around his throat. My bracer burns with power, but I force myself to keep it under control. "She was brilliant."

"She should have stayed away."

"He was her mate." Even knowing how it ended, I can't fault her. I wish she hadn't left me, but if one of my mates had been taken, would I have acted any differently? I shudder, the pain too much to even contemplate.

"He got her killed," he says evenly, and I feel it like a slap. "I'm sorry. But it's the truth."

"Well, it was worth it." My voice wobbles.

He laughs and shakes his head. There's a mistiness to his eyes. When he speaks again, there's a new warmth in his tone. "You're so much like him."

I'm still furious at this man, but I'm also absolutely starved for any information about my father. I shake my head. "Everybody always says I'm a clone of my mother."

"Not many people knew your father." One corner of Lord Rook's mouth tilts up, but his smile is wry and full of ghosts. "He was an idealist. Always butting heads with the wrong people. I thought it was youth and rebelliousness, but it ran deeper than that. And then he met your mother. He took one look at her, and his time with the Shadow Dragons was over." His smile fades away. "The day he left was one of the worst days of my life."

"Yeah." I swallow hard. "Same."

A moment passes between us. Some shared iota of mutual understanding.

"I always wondered," he says quietly, "if all of Erembour's ranting about Pitch and Faltine trying to produce an heir... If there was any truth to it."

"They weren't," I promise.

"I know." There's that sad flicker of a smile again. "They produced you. And that's much, much better."

The glow in my chest takes me by surprise. I'm still suspicious as hell of this guy, but he's definitely family, and it means something to have him look at me as if I've made him proud.

A pang of regret fires off behind my ribs.

What would it have been like if my parents hadn't come from such different worlds? If my father hadn't had to run away from his entire kingdom? If he hadn't had to hide who and what he was?

If he hadn't come from a kingdom ruled by megalomaniacal sociopaths and murderers.

Would we have spent holidays at the Citadel with Uncle Rook? I can't help but imagine him teaching a younger version of myself to play chess, or doing something wildly inappropriate like buying me my first sword.

Before I can fall too far down the rabbit hole of what-might-have-been, Lord Rook suddenly lets out a grunt. A pained expression crosses his face, and he puts a hand to his forehead.

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