Page 142 of Terror at the Gates

“Is that how you’re choosing to describe your relationship?”

I paused as we came to the top of the steps and turned fully toward him. I wanted to push him down the stairs. I still might, depending on what he said next.

“I don’t see how my relationship with Zahariev concerns you, Mr. Caiaphas,” I said.

“I think it’s my right to ask my future wife if she’s fucking the head of the Zareth family, don’t you think?”

I went cold, staring at him in disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

Macarius’s lips lifted in a mocking half smile. “Youshould run along,” he said. “You don’t want to keep your father waiting.”

I whirled and marched down the hallway to his office. I shoved the door open so hard, it hit the wall with a loud bang. My father stood near the fireplace, a large cigar in hand.

He only smoked when he was celebrating.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” I said.

I hated that my voice quaked, that I already had tears in my eyes.

“Lilith—”

“Tell me!” I roared.

His expression turned stony, his eyes cold. I watched him go from caring father to the stoic head of the Leviathan family, and I’d never despised him more than in this moment.

“I will secure the future of my legacy,” he said. His tone was firm and final. “You have known your duty since you were young. The time you spent away has muddled your mind.”

“Youwishmy mind was muddled,” I spat.

“Watch your tone,” he said, the words slipping between gritted teeth.

“Or what? Are you going to hit me? Go ahead. I barely flinch anymore.”

My father paled. I’d chipped away at some of his hard edges.

“You’ve spent the last two years lying to everyone. You told the archbishop I was just going through a phase. You promised him I would return and witness for him, but you never asked mewhyI left.”

“You and your mother weren’t getting along, I thought it best—”

“Don’t tell mewhyyou think I left,” I snapped. “Ask me.”

He stared. It was probably hard for a man so used to getting his way to take orders from a woman, especially his daughter.

“Ask me!” I screamed.

He cleared his throat. “Why did you leave?” His voice cracked.

I straightened, refusing to cower.

“I left because your beloved archbishoprapedme,” I said. “I left because you never once considered that maybe the reason I’d wavered in my faith was because the man in charge of it had touched me. I left because I didn’ttrustyou to protect me. You never have. Not from Mom, not from the church, and not from this fucking world.”

“Lilith—”

He whispered my name, a desperate plea, but I couldn’t stand it and cut him off, shouting.

“Two years!Two years and all you thought about was who would succeed you, because despite being your own flesh and blood, I am still not worth as much as a man, even the one who hurt me.” I paused, lifting my chin. “When you think of your legacy, I hope you remember this moment and how you failed me.”

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