But from the troubled look in her eyes, the pensive furrow of her forehead, her unflinching gaze, it wasn’t a question motivated by power, one-upmanship or malice – she was interested in him.
And in the isolation of that room, of having seen her laid bare out in the alley, he wanted to do the same for her as much as for himself. He wanted her to not feel alone in her self-directed anger. He wanted her to know he understood.
More selfishly, he wanted her to delve into the deepest, darkest part of him just to see if that look in her eyes would still be the same when she came out the other side. Because, from the way she was looking at him then, her emotions for him were as mixed up as his for her.
But it was a risk telling her. She’d want the complete story and would learn that he was anything but the honourable leader she would be willing to help. The truth could cause a division between them at the crucial point – just when he was detecting he was starting to get her on side.
But she still needed him for her own cause – that much wouldn’t change.
‘How?’ she eventually asked.
‘By loving her too much. More than I ever should have.’ He reached for the bottle. He upturned the tumbler and half filled it, before leaning back in his chair. ‘You blame yourself for what happened to your mother and you were nothing more than a kid. A kid who had no idea of the implications. It was impossible for you to know. Only I knew exactly what I was doing.’ He knocked back a mouthful, the liquid burning his throat as much as the pending confession. ‘We met after the regulations. I tried not to fall for her, but I did.’
And he’d fallen deeply. Painfully deeply. Deep enough to have only ever fallen once, and never again.
Or so he thought.
Because telling Phia as such didn’t feel right. Because what he’d come to realise was that the pain of a lost love he’d once thought unsurpassable had inexplicably finally started to ease in just the short time Phia had been with him.
The serryn who was everything Ellen wasn’t and vice versa.
Except they both had one thing in common – in their own way they’d both sparked something in him. And it was a spark he could no longer deny.
‘What was she like?’ Phia asked, her gaze unflinching.
‘Beautiful. Smart. Kind. Compassionate. Wise. And she was good for my temperament.’
‘You said you didn’t want to fall for her. Why?’
‘I have a condition. A part of my lineage. I suppose those of a more superstitious nature would call it a curse. I’m very much in belief of the latter.’ He finished the remains of his drink, but kept hold of the glass as he rested his head back against the wall. ‘I can’t have a family. Which I told her. Though, at the time, Ellen didn’t care about that. She loved me regardless. Said being with me was enough. In time, though, it wasn’t. She wanted young. Desperately. And one night, I lost myself. I got her pregnant.’
She frowned. ‘But you said you can’t have a family.’
‘I didn’t mean physically – I meant morally.’
She dropped her legs into a cross-legged position so she could lean forward. Never had she looked more attentive, more focused. Instead of being repelled, his confession only seemed to be drawing her closer. ‘Why?’
‘The rule of three. That’s the curse. I was destined to have twins.’
‘Why is that a curse?’
He looked into his glass before looking back at her. ‘That’s not the curse; the fact that only one can survive is – either the mother or one of the young. But never more than one. And never all three.’
Phia was sat upright now, her body tense, her lips slightly parted in shock. But still she didn’t look away. ‘And Ellen knew this. Ellen knew the risk but she still wanted to try?’
‘Yes.’
‘It was guaranteed to happen?’
‘Not guaranteed. But a high enough risk that she shouldn’t have even contemplated it.’
‘She didn’t survive,’ Phia said.
‘She died during the birth. She lost too much blood. I’ve never seen so much. The pain she was in…’ He took a deep, unsteady breath, fighting back the tears as he lowered his gaze, remembering how helpless he felt just stood there, watching, her grip on his hand so tight, her glazed eyes staring up into his during those last moments.
‘And you blame yourself,’ Phia said quietly. ‘That’s why you said you killed her.’
‘I did kill her. If I had been strong enough to say no that night, she’d still be alive,’ he said, his throat tight. ‘Maybe with someone else. Maybe with a family. If I loved her, truly loved her, I would never have got involved with her in the first place.’
‘If only the choice of whom you fall for were that easy. None of us choose who we love, Jask. If it were about reason and logic and choice, it would be science, not emotion. It would stop being magic.’
He held her gaze, stunned for a moment not only by the sensitivity behind the words, but the tenderness in her eyes as she uttered them. Thoughts that were beautifully naïve, beautifully innocent. Thoughts that were cracks of light beneath the rubble of her grief, fury and fear.
‘But we do choose what we do about how we feel,’ he said. ‘She’s dead because of me. If I’d had more control, if I hadn’t been so selfish as to fear losing her to someone else, if I’d said no, if I had been stronger, if I’d loved her enough to let her go, she’d still be here.’
He stared deep into eyes that no longer brimmed with the anger and confusion and resentment he’d come to know, but with compassion. Compassion and empathy he didn’t deserve.
‘You think I’m honourable?’ he asked. ‘I was so scared of losing her, so selfish, that the minute I found out she was pregnant I told her to get rid of them.’ And he’d never forget it – how easily the words had slipped from his lips. How, in his fear of losing her, he’d become someone he didn’t recognise. ‘But that was the difference between us – because she said no. She’d accepted her decision and her fate. She even wished that one of them would survive instead of her. And that made me so angry. For a short while I hated her for putting our unborn young first like that. For choosing them over me. For not fighting any way she could to stay with me. For leaving me so helpless that all I could do for the months that followed was to stand by and count down the days whilst hoping my wish would come true.’
He glanced back down into his empty glass as he blinked the tears away.
Phia didn’t move. She didn’t speak. But she’d turned her head away from him slightly, despite her gaze not flinching, her frown deep, those brown eyes penetrative. Eyes that he now felt ashamed to look back into.
‘Did either of the twins survive?’ she eventually asked.
‘Yes. And every time I looked at him, all I could see was her. And I couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle knowing she had died so he could live. My beautiful, strong, amazing mate, whom I loved with every breath I took, was replaced by a weak, demanding, selfish little stranger who cared nothing for what he had caused. So I shunned him. That’s how I held up her memory – by ignoring all I had left of her.’
‘If our actions in grief define us, Jask, we’re all fucked. No one reacts rationally to loss. You couldn’t help being angry.’
‘My son’s still alive. Her only legacy. But all these years later, I still treat him like he’s dead to me. I ignore him, or I make him work harder than anyone else. He looks for my approval every day and all I do is stare back at him with disdain. Is that what he deserves?’
Feeling too much shame to hold her gaze any longer, he looked back out of the window, the curtains now whipped by the breeze.
‘But you feel guilt because you do care about him,’ she said.
‘And I’ve got a great way of showing it.’
‘You said he seeks your approval every day. Is he here? In Blackthorn?’
He nodded.
‘Then it’s not too late to tell him. It’s never too late.’
* * *
; She could never have anticipated seeing so much pain behind a third-species’ eyes. The pain of self-loathing, of guilt, of a burden too heavy to bear. And she didn’t know what to do to lighten it. Had no way of lightening it but to give a piece of herself in return, to somehow show she understood.
‘From the morning my grandfather sat us all down and told us our mother was dead, I shunned all that was left of my family,’ she explained. ‘I wouldn’t even let them comfort me. Instead I ran up to the bathroom, locked the door, wrapped myself in a towel and hid beneath it in the bathtub. I lay there all day and all night, ignoring their pleas, their distress. Not once did I offer to comfort either of my sisters or my grandfather in return, thinking only of my fear, my pain, my loneliness.
‘And whilst Leila had kept going, kept working to get the grades, to get a good job to keep us in Summerton, to make up for the social and academic pointage where I was lacking, I responded with tormenting her with years of anger I couldn’t deal with.
‘You asked me why Leila wasn’t filled with the same vengeance as me? I think losing our mother gave her the strongest survival instinct of us all. She knew that surviving isn’t always about fighting back. Being the heroine isn’t always about kicking arse just because you can. Only I mocked her for doing the contrary. Whilst she was holding it all together, I ran around with a torch on my head and a stake in my hand, threatening to force-feed our little sister garlic. And look at me now – no different. Because how did I repay Leila? I came here – to the pit of her worst fears and left her behind to suffer and feel that loss all over again. So if you’re asking me to sit here in judgement of you, you’re asking the wrong person, Jask. Only when I see her again, I’m going to make it up to her. And you can do the same with your son. Because it’s not our mistakes that define us, but what we do about them.’
He rested his head back against the wall, frowning contemplatively at her confession.
Even she was taken aback by how easily it had come out – insight she’d never shared with anyone. She wiped away her tears with the heel of her hand and stared back down at the duvet.
She knew it was wrong – her empathy with this third-species leader. And she couldn’t cope with what was stirring inside of her now she’d finally seen inside of him. She couldn’t afford to care – not for him, not for Jask. Not for the third-species leader who, despite his hostile front, looked at her like he completely understood everything that had spilled from inside her.
Because, despite what he’d said, he was honourable – honourable and good and decent and everything she wasn’t and everything she would never be.
Just as she would never replace Ellen. Just as she could never give him what he wanted, what he needed, what he was owed. Because having seen him on the lawn with Solstice and Tuly, she knew that he deserved another chance at happiness. That maybe one day fate would be kind and grant him a family of his own. Surely not even fate was so cruel as to strike him twice.
But she’d never be the one to give it to him. She was tarnished now. Ironically, the serrynity she’d craved for so long now weighed heavily on her in its cruelty because, as she looked at Jask, she would have given anything to have been the one.
But instead of fantasising, she needed to focus on what really mattered – what was left of her own family. The family she needed to get to before she lost any more time. Jask would move on when they were done. He’d go back to his pack. And she’d go back to nothing. Not unless she did something about it.
‘Jask, please just tell me why you want me. What purpose do I serve? Then we can both go back to what we should be doing.’
Her chest ached as he held her gaze. And as he glanced out of the window, retaining his silence, before looking back at her with equal reticence.
But it wasn’t anger she felt – it was hurt. His lack of trust tore through her more deeply than she could handle, not least after he’d shared such an intimate confession, let alone after she had.
She’d dared to think for a moment that they had connected. Now she felt a fool.
But no more so than when panic struck her.
Up close and personal just wasn’t Jask’s style. Because it had been a confession. A confession that she had the gut-wrenching feeling he’d uttered only because he’d known it would remain safe.
That’s why he wouldn’t tell her why he needed her. She’d already proved herself useless. Worse, his involvement with her was a risk now that Caleb was involved. More than that, he’d known she’d intended to kill him.
He’d brought her to that dive, that reclusive room, for one reason only.
The betrayal lacerated her heart and squeezed her lungs.
Something inside her snapped.
‘Fine,’ she said, as she slid to the edge of the bed. ‘Keep your secret, but I don’t have time for this.’ She pulled on her heels, fumbling with the straps with trembling hands, before standing.
Jask stood up at the same time, blocking her only exit. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
Her instinct was to push him away, but she didn’t – and not just because she didn’t have the energy for a futile battle on her part, but because even in her anger, she couldn’t strike him. Not now she’d seen him for what he was.
Instead she allowed herself a moment to read the situation. A moment to read the concern in his eyes, the lack of aggression in his stance.
But then the most proficient predators always were the composed ones. And she had the feeling she was desperately searching for signs that weren’t there.
‘Where do you think?’ she said. ‘My sisters are here in Blackthorn because of me. Just as whatever has happened to The Alliance is because of me. This is all down to me. And I need to get to them and find out what’s going on. Because if something has happened to them, then Caleb’s at the core of it. And I’m going to sort this out.’
‘Have you any idea what you’re contemplating?’
‘I don’t care,’ she said. ‘They’re my sisters, Jask. They’re all I have. If I lose them, what’s the point in any of this?’
She tried to slip past him, but he grabbed her arm.
‘You seem to be forgetting something,’ he said. ‘Before you go on your suicide mission, we had a deal.’
She dared to look him in the eyes. ‘Like you said, all our leads are gone. And I don’t have time to find another. For the first time in my life, I need to put my sisters first. I’ll find whoever is responsible for The Alliance after I’ve saved them.’
‘And where do I fit into this plan?’
‘You’re going to let me go.’
‘And I’d do that because…?’
Finally her patience waned, the knot in her chest too tight. ‘Then end this, Jask. Don’t toy with me.’ She nearly choked on the tears already constricting her throat. ‘Clearly you don’t think I’m capable of doing whatever it is you want me to do. Clearly I’m not meeting your expectations. Clearly I’m not the serryn you’d hoped for. So either we call it quits and solve our own problems, or you finish this.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
It was the first time he’d seen it.
Plenty of times she’d glared him down, enticed him to hurt her, not cared what happened to herself in the process. It’s what made her so lethal to his self-control – that she wanted the lycan in him to out.
But whatever had happened in the past twenty-four hours, Phia had gone from reckless, impulsive and suicidal to wanting to survive.
Because now, as she glared back at him, he could see she did care what happened. She was frightened. More than that; she was hurt. He could see it in her eyes: she felt betrayed by him. And that meant she’d learned to trust him.
And because of that, as her eyes flared, glossy and expectant, he wanted to make her a promise that he was the last one who would ever let her down. But he couldn’t. She needed so much – so much containing, so much care, compassion and protection. Not least now he knew Caleb was coming for her. And he had to que
stion if he could do it – if they survived long enough, whether he could do it night after night. If he could manage her and still be there for his pack.
Or whether he should let her go. Make her do what he wanted and then let her walk away to solve her own problems like she’d suggested.
Until she walked into Caleb Dehain. Or Kane Malloy. Or an unruly gang of vampires. Or a group of cons. Ones who wouldn’t see what he saw. Ones who didn’t care what was beneath the surface. Ones who would only see the attitude, the challenge, the bolshie female looking for trouble. Not one who, deep down, was desperately trying to escape her pain in the only way she knew how.
They wouldn’t see his Phia the way he saw her. His Phia.
‘You don’t believe that,’ he said. ‘You don’t really believe I’ll hurt you. Because not only do you believe I’m honourable – you trust me. Or you did. That’s why you’re angry now – because you don’t think I trust you in return. And you want me to. You need me to. Because if I trust you, you’ve finally got your self-worth back, right? And you need your self-worth back so you have the strength to go and get your sisters. To find a way out of all of this.’
She tried to yank her arm from his grip, but his hold was unrelenting.
‘You can keep pushing me away all you want, Phia, but we both know what’s going on here.’
‘And what’s that, Jask?’ she asked, her lips already quivering.
‘You’ve fallen for me as much as I’ve fallen for you.’
Just seeing the flare in her eyes filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in as long as he could remember.
A feeling that equally filled him with terror because she didn’t deny it.
Instead she exhaled tersely. ‘Fallen? It’s been less than two days.’
‘How long does it usually take?’
‘A lot more than two days.’
‘I knew the minute I saw you, Phia. The minute I looked into your eyes down in those ruins. And I have never felt a connection like I did then. And I hated you for it. Hated you for making me feel that way when I didn’t even know you. But now I do know you, I know it was right to feel that way. My instincts knew what my heart and head weren’t ready to accept. Trust me, denial is the preferred option for me, too, but I want you to know how I feel.’
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