Page 56 of The Night Runs Red

My palms slickened with sweat as I waited for the answers to questions I didn't know if I even wanted. What the hell was my uncle doing here? And why was he standing in front of Rion, pacing back and forth like a caged animal readying to break free?

Somehow, amidst the chaos, I knew whatever I heard here would irrevocably change the course of my life.

As he turned, I saw his wide eyes and flared nostrils. He was pissed. And that was likely too flippant of a word to describe the look on his face. It was terrifying and cruel. “I didn’t know who you were when I laid eyes on you in that church,” he mumbled, wiping sweat from his brow. “But there’s been a nagging sensation in my mind urging me to remember. It has kept me up most nights, and Vivian thought I was going mad, but then it struck me.”

Rion’s jaw hardened. “This conversation is over. You should leave before you no longer have the option,” he said, nodding toward the door.

“I do not know how you’ve hidden your past so well, but your secrets end here.” Castor was lost in his thoughts, and I was enraptured. Guilt told me I should leave, but curiosity begged me to stay.

“And what secrets are those? Please enlighten me.”

Without hesitation, my uncle met my husband’s silver glare. “When will you tell her about Corvina?”

Rion's eyes turned molten at the mention of the woman’s name. The fire behind his eyes was blinding. His fingers curled into a tightly clenched fist before slamming it against the wood. “Do not utter her fucking name to me,” he hissed.

“Why?” my uncle shot back. “Is your guilt eating away at your conscience? That girl loved you—she thought you hung the moon and stars for her and her alone.”

Castor's pain was evident as his voice cracked, breaking my heart. I didn't know this woman or her connection to my family, but she was treasured. I knew that without a doubt.

Rion’s eyes drifted close to stop his memories from running rampant. “Stop.”

“How did you do it? I've searched, you know. Trying to find why every trace of her was erased from our memories and why you needed to hide it. The records of your union are sealed, redacted from public records as if that match was a mistake, but how did you make us—her family—forget she existed?”

I stopped breathing, unable to control my erratically beating heart as it began to fracture into jagged shards. Redacted. Sealed. I didn’t want to think about the implications of my uncle’s words because if his words were true…

“This is your last warning, Castor. Leave now, and we can forget this conversation took place.”

“No,” my uncle said, shaking his head. “I am not leaving here until you give me the answers I seek, nor will I be leaving without my niece. She doesn’t deserve this.”

“Is that so?” Rion said, leaning back in his chair. “And do you think Calia would go with you without explanation? Are you ready to give that to her?”

What was that supposed to mean?

“You are one to talk. What answers have you given when she's asked?" When Rion didn't answer, my uncle continued. "I will give her the truth as long as it gets her away from you and your family,” he spat. “I will tell her every little fucking thing, every dirty secret, if that is what it takes. Do not test me, D’Arcy.”

Rion growled. “And do not threaten me, Darrow. I allowed you into our home as a courtesy to my wife, but do not mistake that as free rein to insult me or my family. You have outstayed your welcome.”

My uncle scoffed, crossing his arms. “The lies slip off your tongue better than any devil I met. You act as though you love her—”

“I do,” Rion said without hesitation. “Not that I owe any explanation to you.”

If I thought I couldn’t breathe before, it paled in comparison to how I felt now. Rion showed his love through his actions, but neither of us had uttered the words out loud that would encase our bond in stone. But hearing them now after they'd been tainted by omissions made me sick.

It wasn't possible to love someone without giving them your all. And if you didn't bare your soul fully, then it couldn’t possibly be love. I'd romanticized the emotion to a point where it had seemed unobtainable. Even now, the secrets Rion had been keeping close to his chest would always have me second-guessing if he was telling me the entire truth.

“I want to believe you, Rion, because Calia deserves every bit of happiness this life can offer, but if you loved her—truly loved her—you would have told her the truth by now.”

The sound of fingertips drumming against hollow wood filled the silence before Rion spoke. “How am I supposed to explain my past without divulging my worst deeds, those actions which would taint me in her eyes? Am I not allowed to feel my regret privately?”

“Because not doing so is putting her in danger. I do not have to impress upon you the consequences your silence will have—you know them already. The Vail is breathing down my back. There is only so much longer I can hold them off.”

“And Calia? Do you think she can forgive me when she finds out?”

Castor sighed. “I believe she is more understanding than she should be, but this is beyond anything I can predict. Your story is unprecedented; there has never been a single person touched by the curse more than once. She will find out, D’Arcy. Whether you tell her or not.”

“And you would be the one to do it?” Rion asked in warning. The thick, corded muscle in his neck thrummed along his pulse.

“If I need to be, then yes.”

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