Page 19 of Omission: Part 2

“Good little fae.” I try not to as he pulls back a bit, but a tiny smile slips onto my face anyway. Moreover, I’m glad he ignores it and doesn’t hold back from me either. I need to know what happened while I lay poisoned by Ruben on this very bed. “I’m humbled by your trust, and more than that, I know we’ll get through this. Because the bad part will hurt, and the good will outweigh it all.”

Grasping onto his words for dear life, I lift a hand to his chin and cup it. “I’m ready, Leo. What did Ruben say to you?”

“That Larue glamoured Queen Amelia, sweetheart. He wasn’t her mate.”

He’s watching my reaction, taking in my every breath or shift in my body language, but I have nothing. “To be honest with you, I’m not shocked by this. If anything, it makes sense.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I have no doubt, not a single one…you’d never hurt me. Physically or otherwise, and all that man did was humiliate her…” I take a pause, gauging myself and accepting the numbness that creeps in and takes over me. It’s easier this way, to dissociate myself and take everything in as a bystander. Maybe not the healthiest way to deal with the truth, but for now, I’ll lean on him and work my way through the rollercoaster I’m at the precipice of. “He humiliated her, Leonardo. Took great joy in her tears while those of a high ranking just ignored their queen’s misery.”

“Larue abused her in front of your people?”

“Not in the way you think. More of athey didn’t caresort of way.”

“What about your grandfather?—”

“That man is dead to me.” My tone’s inflection is even, yet I couldn’t bite back the volt of anger that rushed through me at the mention of the elder. Rapid. Harsh. Brutal ire.He also abandoned us. Let Maman be hurt instead of protecting his only child.The overwhelming emotion came and went quickly, a heated sear in my veins, but my king felt it and stiffened beneath me, his body on full alert. “Calm down, my king. I just hate the man.”

“Why?” So gruff, his voice is a guttural growl while the arms wrapped around me tighten, pinning me against his rumbling chest. And while the sound of his reaction over my sudden distress should soothe me, this time I’m thrown by my father’s voice in my head.

You have no voice or choice; remember that, my child.

Over and over again, I’m reminded. Hear the reprimand.

“He’s dead. Larue and his son are dead.”

You have no voice or choice; remember that, my child.

“Focus on me, Anaya. None of them will ever hurt you again.”

You have no voice or choice; remember that, my child.

“Come back to me, baby. Tell me why you hate your grandfather?” Leonardo’s question is simple enough; he’s trying to refocus me, but the weight attached is a heavy one. It’s just as crushing and difficult to express yourself when all the memories of your time at the fae court—with your family—bring forth the urge to scream. How do you articulate instead of cursing the very existence of the man who should’ve cared more about his daughter and less about staying in the good graces of theking of idiotswho ruined said offspring?

The answer is that you don’t. Can’t.

And it isn’t until that moment that I realize I’m mumbling something under my breath. It’s on repeat, and I’m ashamed of it. Of my weakness.

You have no voice or choice; remember that, my child.

“Please let me in, precious one.” Warm lips traverse from my eyelids to my cheeks and then down to my trembling mouth. From the right to the left, they don’t stop until I let out a shaky breath and press a little more firmly. Just stay like that until I can focus enough through blurry eyes to meet his understanding ones, and that’s when a deep and hurt-filled sob erupts. It leaves me and it rips me open, the years of pushing everything back and forgiving my maman for not leaving—even if I know she tried and failed in the past. “I’ve got you, Anaya. Your pain is mine. Your load is meant to be shared.”

“Let me tell you what I remember ofthatday.”

“I love you, my heart.”

“As do I. You are my soul.” Even though my hoarse reply pleases him, his heartbeat thumping harshly inside his chest, my male doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t so much as move while I sit higher on his lap and bury my face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent to calm my racing thoughts. I’m a paradox, from one extreme to the other as my entire being sags against him, but at the same time, I’m an eruption of repressed emotions.

Contradictory in every sense, and Leonardo senses this and tries his best to soothe me by running one hand up my back and cupping the back of my neck, holding me in place while his thumb rubs soothing circles on my skin. While the arm still around my waist pulls me impossibly closer, and it helps. I begin to get a hold of myself, my uneven breaths and my cries slowly becoming sniffles.

My shudders become languid until I just lie in his arms, absorbing his warmth. And while it takes a while, my male never hurries me. Just silently waits while the bond vibrates with understanding and so much love.

For me. For a fae princess hurt by her kingdom.

“Better?” he says, a deep whisper against my head.

“Yeah.” His scent grows even thicker then; the chocolate and spice spreads throughout the room until it overwhelms in the best of ways. It drowns and gives anchor, and the longer I take in his comfort, the looser my lips become. I’m talking before I realize it, and it’s cathartic. “…she failed, Leonardo. Maman ran away with me when I was a child, maybe no more than three at the time.”

---