Page 116 of Princess Redeemed
I want to laugh, but it catches in my throat.“And what am I supposed to do?Raise a savior?”
He cocks his head slightly.“Raise a child.Love him.Protect him.Let the rest come when it must.”
My hands tremble, but I steady them against my sides.“I didn’t ask for this.”
“No,” he says.“And that’s why you’re the perfect person to do it.You.And your wolf.”
I swallow.
“You’ve proven that love conquers fate.It conquers destiny.And this child—your child—will do things we can’t even imagine.”He sighs.“I only wish I could be around to see it.”
“What?”
He doesn’t answer, but I see fatigue in his eyes.
I look at my father.
Trulyseehim.
And for the first time, he’s not the robust man I’ve always known.
He’s…old.
Despite his quest to stay young with his herbals and elixirs, he is succumbing to Father Time.
Killing the demon king took the last of his power and strength.
And now that he’s leaving me?I want more time with him.Want to get to know this new side of him.
“No, Daddy, please.Don’t go.Please don’t go.”
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A flickerof something like regret passes over my father’s eyes.I almost smile.For all his power and ruthlessness, he’s still capable of feeling emotion.
“Please don’t,” I repeat, my voice barely a whisper.
My father’s gaze wanders beyond me as if he is looking toward something in the distance, something only he can see.“If you will never be anything else,” he begins in a hushed tone, “know that you are strong.”
“I don’t need you to teach me that,” I tell him.“I’ve proved it.I could have ended Richard.”
“But now you don’t have to.Your mother can blame me, for the fault of everything she’s borne lies with me.”He meets my gaze.“I’m asking for your forgiveness.For your mother.For Larissa.For you, Hannah.”
“Forgive you?For killing Richard?Hell, I should be laying a wreath at your feet.”
“Not for killing Richard.He earned his destiny.No.”My father shakes his head.“Forgive me for all the years of emotional abuse.For the years I mistreated your mother.For enslaving you to your vampire blood, making you come when called, making you do my dirty work.”He breathes in, exhales.“And for deceiving you.For deceiving you about Victor Rogan.”
I regard my father.
He looks…
Damn.
He still looks old.
His silver hair no longer looks vital, no longer reflects the light like polished steel.Instead it’s dull gray and carries the weight of his life lived.The lines around his eyes seem carved by years of silence and decisions he never let me question.
His presence used to fill an entire room.Now it just lingers in the ether.
