Page 18 of Final Shift
A beat of silence before I took a deep breath so I wouldn't scream. “You are thousands of years old. You've seen entire civilizations fall. I was born this century and married to a man who treated me like shit, then dated someone who hid most of his red flags. Then I met Rowan, and suddenly, he was the most important thing in my world. I will never stop seeing Caelan coming for him, never not think about losing him. The image is forever stamped in my mind.” I took a breath, still forcing down the urge to yell at him. “You say things so matter-of-factly as if you have any idea what it feels like to be mated.”
I regretted the words as soon as I said them. He and my mom had a complicated history, and if Cliona ever opened the door to the possibility of them being together again, he would happily walk through it and fall to his knees before her.
Dad's eyes flickered.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but Dad stopped me. He reached over and took my hands. “Don't apologize to me. You're right on one part. I may never know what it's like to have the type of bonds you do with your Lord. But that is not my point. You are continuing to see something that never came to pass, and the simple fact is your magic is being affected by your trauma.”
I blinked.
Dad's eyes softened. “I may be thousands of years old, but I know complex trauma when I see it. You need to speak to someone. Sooner rather than later.” He glanced toward the patio. “Rowan is here, Evie, staring at you like you're the sun.He's alive and breathing and still here to love you for the rest of time. He is not dead. And yet, you relive the possibility every single day.”
I swallowed hard, the burn of tears pricking the backs of my eyes. “Why are you so reasonable sometimes?” I choked out.
Dad smiled. I forgot who he was sometimes. Hell, I forgot who I was sometimes. The man sitting before me was an immortal king, and I was his heir.
The side of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile. “Tonight is the first time someone's ever called me reasonable.” He lowered his voice. “You should tell your mother about my reasonability.”
“That's not a word,” I said with a laugh.
“Should be one.” Dad sighed. “Loving one's daughter tends to bring out the kinder, gentler side of a father.” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “And, since you won't allow me to rip the other Lord into shreds, I suppose this is the next most reasonable step in the process of healing.”
“What an altruist you are.”
We grinned at each other.
Rowan rose and walked over, lowering himself next to me. “Everything okay?”
“Dad wants me to talk to someone.”
Rowan eyed my father for a long moment. They did not have the somewhat easy relationship Caelan and he did. Caelan showed deference to the former fae king. Rowan never bothered. While he respected my father's position, he also recognized how manipulative he could be and suffered no fools, especially when it came to me.
My father, on the other hand, was used to being worshipped and thought Rowan needed to be knocked down a few pegs. But Rowan's mother was a powerful shapeshifting goddess, and Dad was more wary of my mate than the other Lords he'd met. Whether his wariness stemmed from me or from something todo with Rowan's mother, I wasn't sure. I had yet to meet her and had been meaning to try to contact her, but Mom was having trouble finding her. With the absence of the gate, aka me, less powerful fae could no longer travel between the worlds.
People like Mom and Dad and the much older gods like Neit could travel at will, but there were only a handful of those.
Yet one more problem I needed to fix and hadn't gotten around to. In my defense, I had people constantly trying to kill me, so maybe the fae would cut me some slack once I figured out how to be the gate withoutbeingthe actual gate.
“I agree with your father.” Rowan looked genuinely pained by the admission.
Dad laid a hand over his heart and gasped dramatically.
Rowan shot him a look. “I expect this will be the only time we agree.”
“You never know,” Dad said. “This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”
“Doubt it,” Rowan said.
Man. He really did not like my father. I glanced up at him, but Rowan shook his head once. “Are you finished training?”
I glanced at Dad, who inclined his head. “She's mastered everything except for traveling. We should convene until after a few sessions with a therapist or whoever the packs use when dealing with PTSD.”
Rowan's eyes glimmered. I stifled a smile. “You agree with Dad again but don't want to admit it.”
Dad chuckled. “I'll be back in a few weeks.” He rose in a graceful motion and held out a hand to help me up. “We'll gauge your progress then.”
Dad draped an arm over my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Until then—” He looked at Rowan. “Take care of my daughter.”
He disappeared in a shower of multi-colored light.
