"Or for her past," Morana put in. "It's possible that looking for her origin is what led him to us."
Fuck.
It did sound plausible.
"I don't know how to tell any of this to Tristan." Dante heard the clacking of a keyboard in the background as she spoke. "The last time the Shadow Man sent us a location, I told Tristan immediately, and it ended up being a wild goose chase. We found Xander, and I'm so grateful for that, don't get me wrong. But I know how much it deflated Tristan that it wasn't his sister. I saw how his hope got crushed." Morana's voice cracked. "I don't want to do that to him again. You know he's not good at processing emotions, and he's already been more intense since the shooting, and I just…"
Dante sighed. He could understand where she was coming from. The need to emotionally protect the ones they loved was strong in all of them. But Dante also knew what keeping things from a partner could do to a relationship, no matter how strong. He still remembered how he had almost broken a decade-longrelationship by keeping something from Amara, how he had lost her while she'd been pregnant. He remembered because they had both paid a price for it, and he felt it every day that his little princess breathed, and his little angel who never made it watched over her sister. It was a wound that would probably never heal fully, and a wound they could have maybe avoided if his decision to keep something from Amara hadn't led her to run away from him, making them both more vulnerable.
And even though he never meddled into Tristan and Morana's relationship, he needed to now. So, with the experience of his past mistake, watching his baby girl sleep peacefully, Dante gave Morana the most sincere advice he could give someone. "Take it from someone who has fucked up before, don't ever keep something from your partner. It doesn't matter how good your intentions are or that they come from a protective place; it will hurt them regardless when they find out. In fact, it hurts them more. Amara is forgiving by nature, and I'm a lucky bastard because of it. But Tristan…"
He let it trail off, hearing Morana's quick intake of breath. She knew the man better than anyone in the world, she knew his hatred and she knew his love, and she was smart enough to figure out what Dante meant. Tristan might love her enough to forgive her, but there would be a dent in his trust that might take a long time to repair.
"Love sometimes blinds us, Morana," Dante said, almost soothing her because she needed the balm occasionally when dealing with a man like Tristan. "Don't let it blind you to the fact that he's an adult. I don't see him struggling after the last wild goose chase, as you say. He might have been disappointed, but he's not broken, and that's because he has you by his side as he processes and deals with things. He trusts you, so don't break that."
He knew his words had hit the mark when the line stayed silent for a while. Morana was probably calculating all the pros and cons, weighing the different ways it could go wrong, strategizing how to break the news with the least damage.
A deep sigh echoed in his ear. "You're right. I need to tell him. I will tell him tonight when he gets back."
Dante nodded, relief flooding his chest. He was glad not to be put in the position of knowing something but keeping it from his brother, one of his heart rather than blood. He was also glad not to witness their relationship in turmoil due to lack of communication. He was extra glad because he wanted them to be godparents in his baby's life for a long time. As long as they were all on the same page, they could figure stuff out.
"Where has he gone?" he asked, getting up to scoop his little princess so she would stop suffocating the poor cat. She was so tiny half her body fit into the palm of his hand, the weight a reminder of the miracle Dante and Amara had experienced. She was small, but she possessed the soul of a warrior like her mama. When thoughts about how she would grow up in this cruel world worried him, he reminded himself of that, of the fact that she had fought her way into this world through the worst of times and shined like gold. Not the liquid gold that filled up their cracks and solidified, but the solid gold that could not be broken without immense heat. And it was his job to ensure she never felt that heat.
"He has a meeting with one of the Duncet family insiders after he drops Xander off for his session."
Dante's thoughts shifted from Tempest to the young boy who had somehow integrated into their odd family. A boy, Tristan had confided in him, was like Damian, his actual brother he protected by keeping him away from this world. Dante was glad Tristan and Morana were accepting and loving, unlike his father, who had only alienated Damian by makinghim feel like a burden. As a high-functioning autistic boy, it hadn't been easy for his brother within the compound. He was thriving in the outside world, and Dante would make sure he always did. Xander, as they'd recently found out, was high-functioning autistic as well. Tristan and Morana, being the incredible guardians they already were, were doing everything they possibly could to give the boy all the tools he needed to grow up into a good adult.
It was his past that made Dante a little apprehensive. The fact that they couldn't find anything on him, the fact that the Shadow Man had led them to him, the fact that he didn't trust the Shadow Man an iota—it was all too weird. They didn't know his history, and without knowing what the boy had endured, they couldn't help his future. They could just wait and watch, he supposed.
"How are they both doing?"
Morana snorted. "They have both bonded more over the fact that they don't like me getting shot."
Dante felt his lips curl in a smile even though his thoughts were going a hundred miles a minute. He placed his little princess in the little crib she had in his office, tucking the soft blanket around her as her lips settled in a cute pout. Settling her, he walked to the window, watching the hills he called home, the clouds rolling along the horizon, his mind somber.
"If you are right and the Shadow Man is her lover," he mused out loud, "Tristan won't be happy. I'd suggest keeping that little theory to us until we have confirmation. He's waited a long time for this. No point ruining that with speculation at this point. Let's just focus on her."
"You're right." Morana sighed. "I know. I don't understand any of it or what to make of it. Maybe I am wrong, and he's not involved with her. Or if yes, maybe he was and isn't anymore. Or maybe if he still is, he won't care since he's inviting us tofind her. But if he is involved with her and he cares, we don't know anything about him to predict how any of it will go. The only thing I can find about him is what he wants found. We need information we don't have."
That was the issue. They were all playing chess in the dark, with a myth who was synonymous with it.
He would tell Amara tonight, and Morana would tell Tristan tonight. If she decoded the lead over the night, the game would change when the sun came up.
The clouds rumbled.
A storm was coming.