Page 131 of Oath of Revenge

Their lips crashed together, desperate and hungry. The kiss tasted of salt and copper, fear and relief intermingling. His hands roamed her body, checking for injuries, needing to feel her alive and whole beneath his touch.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of dirt and earth, pine and lemongrass. The longer he held her, the more his body throbbed with the heat of desire. The post-battle need to fuck left him hard, but he needed to just hold her more than he needed to fuck her.

The banging behind the library door made her pull back and inspect his body. Her little hands ran up his back and gingerly traced over scratches to test the extent of his injuries. “Well, you’ll live, but it’ll be damned uncomfortable while you heal. I guess you ran into the queen too, huh?”

He stood there, letting her hands soothe his aching heart as it broke into a thousand pieces. The ghost woman—his daughter was the queen? “The—she’s the queen?”

Scarlet looked at him like he was crazy, and maybe he was. “Who else would she be?”

Wulfric opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out. He closed his mouth and his eyes, then finally choked out, “My daughter.”

Scarlet’s hands froze on his stomach, and her nose twitched as she looked up at him. Her cheeks flushed as she shook her head. “What? I thought she died as a child.”

He took a shuddering breath. “I did too. All my memories of her ended as a young child when I got them back. Eirwyn said she was alive, but I never thought—I didn’t realize she was—“

“The evil queen who cursed us all?” Scarlet said, her tone hard as she clenched her jaw.

His stomach dropped to hear the bitterness and anger in her voice. She hadn’t moved on from the need for revenge, but he needed her to understand. Desperately, he reached for her hands, silently begging her to let go of her stubbornness. “She’s not evil, Scarlet.”

She wrenched her hands out of his and stepped back down the hall to her torn clothes. “She married an evil king who taught her all kinds of magic. It twisted her, Wulfric. She’s not the same little tavern owner as before.”

She jerked on her pants and shirt, the tatters barely clinging to her body as he too found his pants.

His brows rose as he jerked them up over his hips. “You knew her before?”

Scarlet nodded and pulled her shirt on. “Of course. Hunters are notorious for hanging out in taverns and gathering information on their targets. And that tavern was the best in Demerel.”

A flare of pride made his chest swell, and he grinned. “That was my tavern. Well, my wife’s. We ran it together until she passed. Then I ran it with Trix’s help.”

“Don’t call me that,” came a voice from the stairs.

He turned at the voice, and Scarlet stepped beside him, taking his hand. He linked their fingers and drew comfort from his mate as he faced his past head on. His daughter descended the wide marble stairs, still translucent and not quite see-through.

On one hand, he was proud of how she carried herself with grace and poise, yet on the other hand, it served as a reminder of the separation between them - both in their social status and in their physical existence. The fact that he was alive and she was merely a ghost weighed heavily on his heart.

With her chin tilted up, she sniffed haughtily. “I am Queen Bella of Busparia. Trix died with you, Da.”

The last she said as a whisper, stopping three steps from the ground as the knights beside the stairs saluted. He wanted to go to her, hold her and reassure them both that they were alive. But she wasn’t, and it was all his fault.

He swallowed hard and nodded once. “Very well. Bella,” he said reverently.

Bella took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring wide. “I apologize for the emotional outbursts earlier. I didn’t mean for those things to come alive and attack either of you. I—I’m not myself these days and wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Scarlet snorted behind him. “No kidding.”

Wulfric took a hesitant step toward his daughter. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry I didn’t return like I promised I would.”

Bella glanced away and somehow grew even paler. “It was war. I knew the likelihood of you keeping that promise.”

“Still, I’m sorry I left you to run the tavern for ten years.” His voice was a gentle whisper, tinged with huskiness and raw emotion. He held his breath, afraid to make any sudden movements that could trigger another outburst.

The tension in the air was palpable, like a tightly coiled spring ready to snap at any moment. Each word he spoke felt like walking on thin ice, hoping not to break through and cause even more chaos.

Her chin wobbled, then firmed as her eyes flashed. “I’m very angry about that. Why did you stay away? Is it because you’re a Growler now?”

He nodded. “Mostly, yes. When I was turned, I lost all memories of my prior life. Then when the memories started to return in the past few weeks, I thought you’d died in the fevers with your mother.”

The knights standing sentry along the side of the staircase landing shook along with her hands, and she fisted her skirts. The knights stopped moving as she heaved in several long, deep breaths.

---