Page 154 of Wicked Magik
Because I was genuinely curious. A fae that lived somewhere deep in the mountains and away from the portal knew of a human? Specifically my mother, was strange.
“Of course, it is the first thing I will tell you,” he breathed.
I shot him a wary glance, those vibrant golden eyes of his tracking my every move as I inched toward the table. The chair scraped against the stone when I pulled it out. My stomach betrayed me with another growl when I sat down, the scent of whatever he'd cooked hitting me full force.
I gripped the candelabra tighter in my lap and locked eyes with Sylvain, daring him to make the first move.
“Thank you for sitting,” he smirked and pushed a fork toward me.
I rolled my eyes and rested the candelabra on my leg. “I did it because it was my choice, not because you offered it.”
Sylvaine pursed his lips and shook his head. “Very well. You do have more fire than your mother. I apologize—”
“Get on with it. My patience is thin, and you are wasting my time.”
Sylvaine growled under his breath. “You will not speak to me in that tone.” He pointed his finger at me. “I am your father.”
My eyes widened. There was a moment of silence that stretched between us. It felt like minutes, but truly it was just seconds.
I slapped my hand on the table.
"That's impossible," I said, my voice barely audible before rising to a shout. I leaned forward. "My father died before I could remember his face. My father wouldn't have let children mock me. My father—" my voice cracked, "—wouldn't have watched from some mountain hideaway while my mother worked night shifts at the morgue, touching cold bodies so I could eat warm food."
Sylvaine gripped his fork, unable to bring food to his mouth.
“My father wouldn’t have left us…”
Sylvaine stood. “I didn’t leave you! Your mother left me! Thackery left me!” He roared. The window shattered, the glass wrapped around him, leaves scattered across the floor.
I blinked, stepping back and holding the candelabra to my chest. Thackery?
Thackery must have been the frostwhisper fae. Mom didn’t have the white hair, she didn’t have any magik powers.
That I knew of.
That would have been so hard to hide.
Thackery though? Thackery must have been the middle piece of the triad. A male.
Sylvaine’s eyes filled with tears, his hand covered his face and turned away from me to go to the window. The sunrise was coming over one of the mountains and slowly its rays were coming inside the kitchen to bring us light.
I waited for his winds to slow, that reminded me of Veylor’s shadows before I spoke. “Thackery was a frostwhisper, that was why you knew about them, isn’t it?”
Sylvaine lowered his head.
“And Thackery, he was my biological father. The one that got my mother pregnant, with me.”
Sylvaine’s hands gripped the sink.
“Yes, but we didn’t know that. At least I didn’t, not until you came to this realm. I thought they were still through the portal, on Earth. Living out their lives without me.”
My brows furrowed and I started to feel bad for him. He was, my father, part of a bond with my mother. Supposedly, if I believed all this.
"I still love them both—never stopped. We had this ridiculous argument about scheduling date nights. I was working for a court and I had been gone frequently. We were still working out the balance between the three of us, and your mother was early in her pregnancy, emotions running high. I lost my temper. Told her she should just go with Thackery since he was probably more potent and the father of her child anyway."
Sylvaine dragged his fingers through his hair and faced me, his expression crumpling. "It was a moment of jealousy. Words I can never take back. I lashed out over something as trivial as a date night. But they left that afternoon, and as the hours passed, I waited by the window, certain they'd return once I'd cooled down. They knew my temper always burned out quickly."
I frowned but still didn’t move from my spot.
