Page 27 of The Revered and the Pariah

Avalon carefully folded his hands and the sunlight caught his wedding band, pulling at an old wound in her chest. It wasn’t just anger that flowed through her; before now, she’d struggled to name the emotions tied to it. Grief. Loss.

Because if her mother were around, Arianna would still be the heir. She wouldn’t have deemed her daughter worthless. If her mother were around, she would have given Rion a chance to explain and prove himself. If her mother were around—

Arianna’s lips quivered, but she bit the inside of her cheek. She refused to cry in front of her father. He didn’t deserve to see her break down and she wouldn’t give him another reason to call her weak.

“I’d like to talk to you first.” She clenched her fists on the table, but he continued as if he hadn’t noticed. “I want to apologize.”

“For lying about my mother or attacking my mate?”

His shoulders stiffened for a heartbeat, then relaxed. She wasn’t the only one struggling to stay calm. “I didn’t know he was your mate.”

“You knew I loved him. You saw what it did to me to not have him around.”

“You were his captive. I’d hardly call whatever feelings might have emerged love.” She growled and her father laid his hands flat on the table. “You’re my daughter. You were held against your will. Did you expect me to feel anything other than anger toward the ones who caused you pain?”

“You know nothing about my pain.”

“I know what it is to lose a mate. The anger you feel now is the same anger I’ve harbored for years. Anger I thought I could abate by ending the creature who stole my mate.” His gaze softened when he looked her over. “Can you blame me for wanting to avenge your mother? It’s instinct to defend our mates. It’s a drive we can’t control. But when they’re gone . . . well, let’s just say it’s a wonder I didn’t go mad.” He pressed a hand to his head. “Though who can be sure I haven’t?”

She’d never seen her father vulnerable. Not even in the weeks after her mother’s death. But . . . he’d been absent in those weeks. No. Months. Their father had abandoned them. Left the girls to wallow in their grief with only Talon and Myrna to comfort them.

“I won’t ask you to forgive me,” he said. “I know that’s beyond you, but I still offer my apologies and hope we can move past it in the near future.”

“Are you going to hurt him again?”

“No.”

“Have you commanded anyone to hurt him?” Her father didn’t reply. “If you want to move past it, then you can start there. I want him safe while we’re inside these walls.”

Her father sat back. “He caused quite the disturbance yesterday.” His gaze flickered to Talon. “I received several detailed reports.” His eyes shifted back to hers. “They told me other things as well.”

“Did you also receive a report about me putting a male on his back in the infirmary wing, or are your reports only skewed toward those you wish to damn?”

He chuckled. “No, I received that report, too. Your mother did the same once, but she didn’t stop and it took three seasoned warriors to pull her off the male who had threatened me.”

Arianna’s lips parted. Her father never talked about her mother. Never. What had changed? She studied him and his movements. His racing heart. The sweat on his brow.

Her father was . . . uncomfortable. Grieving. Had Rion’s innocence brought all this on? Did knowing he’d been angry and hunting the wrong male bring other feelings to the surface?

“Promise me,” she urged. “Mother would have.”

Her father sat straighter at that, seeming to think before he finally caved. “Yes, she would have.” He folded his hands again. “As long as he doesn’t pose a threat to you or any civilians, I will command my warriors to stand down. They won’t quarrel with him unless they’re provoked.”

Arianna nodded. “Good.”

He studied her, really studied her, and Arianna resisted the urge to shrink beneath his penetrative gaze. “You’re not the same female who was taken two years ago.”

“No.” She wasn’t. She’d changed so much and she still didn’t understand it. Perhaps she didn’t even know herself anymore. She’d grown. Loved. Hated. Fought.

Her father’s gaze drifted to the open window and he was silent for so long that Arianna wondered if he would speak again. “You look like her,” he began, voice whisper quiet. “You look so much like your mother that I wanted to protect you from . . . everything. I know it’s selfish. I know it doesn’t make sense, but when I saw Ellie standing over you, I knew you weren’t strong enough.” His gaze slid to her hands. “Or thought you weren’t strong enough.” He shook his head. “I thought if I kept you out of the fray, out of politics and the war, that I could protect you when I couldn’t protect her. And now here I am, about to send you into the wolf’s den and you have no training at all.”

Her mouth had gone dry. Protect her. He’d acted out to protect her, yet the way he’d made her feel, the words he’d said. They were all projected anger at his own failings, but they’d left a permanent scar on her heart.

Her father cleared his throat. “Despite what you may believe, I tried to hold them off, but those in the royal city are insistent, thus their arrival.” Avalon pulled an envelope from inside his tunic. The black paper had been crinkled, as if he’d clutched it in anger. Gold lined the outside, creating an interwoven border along the edges. He slid it across the table.

“They know nothing of your mate. They know The De—” he stopped himself, closed his eyes for a moment, then spoke again. “They know Rion is here, but they don’t understand why or the delay. I tried using your recent situation as leverage, but—” He gestured toward the gates.

Arianna eyed the envelope but refused to touch it. No one knew. Her father had kept it a secret. Would that make things easier or harder and what did it mean to have a mate to begin with? Her mate was supposed to come from another country altogether. How had things gotten so turned around?

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