Page 5 of Reign

B’nar watched the fae as he waddled from the room. His gaze rested back on me, but he didn’t speak, merely waited. Yeah, he’d learnt patience sitting in his father’s court. I had no idea how old B’nar actually was, but I knew he was far older than he looked. And his experience and maturity showed.

I took a deep breath. I had hoped never to have to address this part of my past. But it was time. Time to come clean both to myself and my pack. I'd wanted to have current info or at least a plan before I had to fill everyone in on the painful details of my childhood.

I rested my elbows on the table and clasped my fingers together, resting my thumbs against my lips and feeling off-kilter.

“Connor?”

My gaze met Owen’s. He deserved to know. They all did. I exhaled from my nose and sat upright. “The bastard we are looking for is Rex Manivera. He’s the one who took Ember from me.”

“What? The ‘property’ billionaire? The shifter who’s an arms and supernatural artifact dealer? Fuck. I wondered who Hawk had sold out to. I didn’t realise he was stupid enough to get sucked into that fucker’s world.” Owen’s face darkened. “How do you know for sure it’s him?”

“Because I scented him near the place the helicopter took off from with Ember. My guess is he was the pilot.”

“Shit,” breathed several voices. Everyone in the room knew who Rex Manivera was.

“So why didn’t you tell us this before? And how did you know his scent?” asked Stone.

The chair creaked as I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. I held Stone’s gaze before I looked at my beta. “Because he’s my father. And I hate that fucker enough to have not wanted any of you to know he sired me. I wanted to hunt him down and get Ember out of his clutches without ever having to admit to you who he was to me. But he’s a clever bastard. I honestly didn’t think it would take this long to track him down.”

Silence.

Owen pursed his lips, letting out a low whistle. “But I thought Rawson brought you up?”

“He did, kinda. I was already fourteen when Rawson and his mate, Lyss, offered me a home. I’d been living on the streets for four, nearly five years before that. Rawson was the one who taught me how to control my temper and my shifts, how to handle the power I had. My father only taught me how to fight and kill. ”

“Did he throw you out, or did you run from him?” Lionel’s amber eyes were narrowed. I held his gaze for a moment. His amber irises darkened. Yeah, he knew where I was coming from. We all had a past, and very few of us had a happy one.

“I ran.” I looked back at Stone, hoping he wouldn’t push for more. I didn’t want to talk about how badly Rex had broken me, nor how rough my time on the streets had been before Rawson had taken me into his home. “I checked on the house he used to own when I was a kid, but he’d moved on soon after I ran away according to the real-estate dealer who sold it. Drake’s trying to trace him for me. That’s why I sent him back to Texas. He has access to people who can help.”

“Damn, was it Rex that Drake had to get into bed with for that equipment we used back at the prison?” Myles asked.

“It’s likely, yes. Rex is rich enough to fund that kind of operation, but Drake doesn’t know for sure. It was all done through Hawk—and that fucker will work for whoever offers the most money.” I met Myles’s gaze. “All Drake knew was a wealthy businessman, with a shitload of power purchased his company from the SBI, and that whoever it was, wasn’t willing to sell it back without a deal. Drake sold his future to get what we needed to fight Berith. I knew Jedediah Hawk was there for something more than keeping an eye on Drake or being a merc. Turns out he was there for Ember. So either Hawk was sent to get her by that same businessman, or he sold her to the highest bidder—my father.”

“Do you think Rex knew about you? Who you are to him?” asked Owen, “Could that be why he helped fund the camp and fight against Berith?”

I contemplated the amber liquid in the glass that Som placed in front of me. Pleased when he placed the bottle next door to it. I grunted my thanks.

“My lady Tyen will be here in a moment,” Som informed me. My eyes flicked to his face. Som was a Bogwart fae, and that meant he was a dark fae from the depths of Orth. To him, my mother was a full-blooded royal fae, one who should have taken the throne before her brother sold her into slavery to my father.

“No.” I looked at Owen. “My father never gave a shit about my welfare when I was a boy, other than what I could become for him—a strong heir. When I was too weak, too slow, not vicious enough, he would beat me senseless, or beat my mother for giving him a weak son…”

“Enough, Connor, please,” my mother said, her words tight. “My life is not one I can change, but it is also not one I wish to be aired publicly. Especially not with the Prince Heir of my world sitting at the table.” Her reprimand wasn’t harsh but quiet and ashamed.

“My lady, Tyen, you have no cause for embarrassment or shame, not on my account,” B’nar said sincerely.

“No, you don’t. Not on anyone’s account,” I added, getting up to take her hand and guide her to a chair next to Lionel, who greeted her with a warm smile.

My mother sat with her shoulders curved forward. Shadow curled around her arms and body, embracing her like a living thing. My own shadow fae pricked up its ears, sensing its kin close by.

“I’d still rather keep the details of my life private, my son.”

I swallowed. “Of course.” I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you any embarrassment.”

She smiled and rested her palm on my cheek. “You haven’t, but I’d still rather keep the details of my inadequacy to protect you between us.”

I nodded, my throat thick. Is that how she viewed her years with me? As being inadequate? I thought back to all the beatings, and the times I’d wished she’d been around when my father had ‘disciplined’ me or ordered his men to do it; to how many times I’d prayed to the Mother Wolf to ask her to come back and catch him at it so that she would realise how evil he was and take us both away. I hadn’t realised then that he had locked her in a room and only let her out once a day to see me. Or that he used her every night to see if he could get her pregnant again, beating her for giving him a son who he believed was too weak to be of use. Rex’s whole existence sickened me.

The only light in my dark childhood had been my time with her, the times she’d held me as I cried, telling me how brave I was. Then she’d disappeared, and I’d been beaten for the tears on my cheeks—until I’d no longer cried at all.

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