CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 25

Adam

I never thought that a woman would become my greatest weakness, but Cynthia managed to sneak into my heart and carve a place for herself. However, even when the only name on my heart was hers, I didn’t fully trust her, and that was where I fucked up big time. Because she didn’t trust me either, and every time I did something behind her back, the fragile faith that she had in me chipped away.

And I never realized that.

And that was my biggest mistake.

It was only when Tony showed up that night to confront me that I learned Cynthia had finally left me. The woman I mated, the one I loved, had decided I was no longer to be trusted. That knowledge broke me inside, but with the way things had been going, I also knew I had to get Cynthia away from here. The revelation of Norman’s dealings with the vampires created quite a stir, and there were those who wanted those rumors hushed. And since I hadn’t exactly been careful in concealing how I felt about Cynthia, it was starting to become more likely that a target would soon be painted on her back.

That had been my immediate instinct. However, the idea of Cynthia being so far away from me made my wolf anxious. Surely, there was a way to keep her by my side. I could always shield her with this engagement with Tina.

That was when Tony revealed that my mate was carrying my child. Tony, who had always been a calm and collected man, a man my father trusted above any other, had grabbed me by the front of my shirt and demanded to know what my intentions were with Cynthia. I had never understood his motivation in concealing Cynthia’s mated status from not only my father but also Cynthia herself, but it took me only a second to figure out that the huge hulking man was only ever interested in protecting Cynthia.

And now, as I watch my Cynthia rush past me toward our daughter, my heart tightens in my chest.

Riya.

That is the name she gave our child.

In the olden language of our ancestors, Riya means ’born from ashes’. I don’t know if Cynthia chose this name deliberately, but it strikes a chord within me. Over these past years, Tony has shared information about my daughter and mate sparingly. Perhaps he hoped I would forget about them. But how could I?

I have dreamed of the day I would be reunited with my family.

But this is not how I wanted things to happen.

I wanted to ease my way back into Cynthia’s heart, to fix things between us, and then tell her the truth of that night, of what she heard. I wanted her to introduce our daughter to me willingly. I never intended to bulldoze into her life like this, to see her look at me as if I’m the worst kind of monster. I watch her pick up Riya, who’s staring at me with curiosity.

"Who is he, Mommy?" Riya asks again.

I expect Cynthia to lie, to distract the little girl. Instead, she brings Riya over. "This is your Dad."

I stand frozen in place, not knowing what to do.

This little girl who has my hair and my eyes is looking at me with unabashed curiosity.

"My dad?" Riya doesn’t look entirely convinced and her arms go around Cynthia’s neck, as if wanting her mother’s protection.

I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

The silence stretches on, and then she turns to Cynthia, clearly no longer interested. "I can’t sleep."

"Would you like your father to read you a story?" Cynthia doesn’t look at me, and her voice is loving as she balances Riya on her hip.

My daughter brightens at the idea and nods eagerly.

My heart is beating so loudly I can hear it vibrate in my entire body. This little girl staring up at me, her eyes gleaming in excitement, is my child. I’ve ached to hold her, to stroke her hair, to hear her voice call me ’Dad’.

Before I can so much as move, Cynthia lowers her to the ground. "Go show your father your bedroom and pick out a book for him to read to you."

What is Cynthia doing? She was so mad at me just a few seconds ago and now…

As Riya grips my hand, all thoughts leave my brain and I let her pull me to her room. Everything is done up in shades of pink and purple. The wall behind her princess-style bed has hand-painted unicorns on it, scattered with flowers and butterflies. There’s a small bookshelf which is filled with books with pictures. There are also two chests that are overflowing with toys.

My daughter has been raised with abundant love, I realize, looking around. She speaks more clearly than most three-year-olds, and there is a noticeable confidence within her. Cynthia adores her. She’s made sure Riya has lacked nothing.

"I want this one." Riya picks up a scrapbook.

"This isn’t a storybook." I take the scrapbook from her.

"It is!" Riya insists. "It’s about the princess in the castle. Mommy made it for me. This one is my favorite!"

That’s when I realize there are a number of scrapbooks in a corner of the shelf.

"Your mom made these stories for you?"

"Yes." Riya quickly clambers into bed. "She even draws me pictures. See?"

She points towards a hand-drawn picture of a princess sitting in a chair. It’s a simple fairytale about a poor princess who was stuck in a tower by an evil king. As I flip through the story, the plot turns complex and yet childlike, introducing the evil king’s two sons, the mean Gustav and the kind Roran.

Riya climbs into bed and I pull up her covers, sitting down on the chair beside her bed.

"No!" She pats the spot beside her. "You have to sit here so I can see the pictures!"

I sit next to her and she sniffs me. "You smell nice."

"I do?" My heart tightens as she ducks her head under my arm to have better access to the book.

"Are you really my dad?"

"I am."

"Where were you?"

Her question is a stab in my heart, and I try to smile. "I was busy for a long time. But I’m here now."

"Are you going to live with me and Mommy now?"

"I want to."

"Oh." Riya looks thoughtful. For such a young child, she’s quite precocious.

"Okay," she say decidedly, in the manner of little children. "But only if you don’t shout at Mommy."

I flinch.

"I’m sorry about that. I promise I won’t shout anymore."

"Is Mommy mad at you?"

Her eyes are filled with the innocent curiosity of a child, and I find myself saying, "I did something bad, so she was upset with me."

"You should say sorry." Riya nods. "When I do bad things, I always say sorry and Mommy kisses me."

"Thanks for the advice." I stroke her hair, and my heart aches. "Let’s read the book and then you can sleep."

Before I can begin, she suddenly asks, "Will you be here in the morning?"

"I don’t know yet." I want to pick her up and put her in my lap. I want to remember her scent so that I never forget it. This little girl came from Cynthia and me.

"Okay." Riya loses all interest in me and looks at the scrapbook. "The princess looks like Mommy."

"She does," I murmur.

I read her a tale of the cursed princess who learned how to stand up for herself against the evil king and his evil son and fell in love with the kind prince. Riya yawns sleepily as I read to her how the princess got a message from a stork about her new baby and found out that the prince she loved was not good at all, so she ran away with the stork and her animal friends to find her baby.

As I close the book, Riya is fast asleep, snuggled in my arms.

She might have my hair and eyes, but she has Cynthia’s fragile beauty. I want to stay here like this, with her in my arms, where I can memorize her face.

For four years, I was terrified of keeping a picture of Riya even in my wallet. I had too many enemies, and I couldn’t risk her being discovered.

When I finally summon the strength to leave the room, I see Cynthia sitting at the kitchen counter. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her hands wrapped around a mug.

"Is she asleep?" she asks, her voice hoarse, and I nod.

She slides over a piece of paper toward me. "These are all the things that you should know about her. It’s got all her favorite foods written in here and what she doesn’t like. She doesn’t like hot dogs for some reason, so never give her those. They’re also unhealthy. And she has this blanket that you have to make sure you never lose––"

"Why are you talking as if I’m taking Riya away from you?" I stare at her.

"Because that’s what you’re doing." Cynthia meets my gaze, and the dullness in her eyes makes me feel like the monster she claims me to be.

"Riya’s place," I say, "is by your side. And mine. We’re a family, Cynthia."

"I’m not your family," she says calmly. "And I will never be your family, Adam. I hate you."

"No, you don’t."

I don’t want to believe that. There still has to be some room in her heart for me.

She smiles humorlessly. "So, now you will tell me how I feel? What’s next, Adam? Will you put your hands on me without my consent like your brother liked to do?"

"That’s a low blow." My voice turns cold. "I have never forced you to do anything against your will, and I will not begin now."

"You expect me to believe that?" The mistrust in Cynthia’s eyes is like a thousand knives slicing my heart. "I heard you that night, remember? You were willing to keep me at your feet by using the blood debt."

"I never said that." It takes everything in me to not raise my voice.

"Yeah," she stares at me, getting to her feet, her voice quiet, "you just claimed to have ways to keep me by your side once you married Tina. Of course, I would never stay with you willingly, but what if you order me to obey? Like a good little slave, knowing I would die if I didn’t obey, I would have watched you marry the perfect woman while I remained in a room, just there to spread my legs for you when you ordered."

My whole body feels like ice as I study her.

"These four years… All this time you’ve been thinking I would do something like that to you? That I would hold you against your will and walk the same path as my father and brother?""Yes," Cynthia snarls. "I do! You’re not different from them. You’re the same monster. I trusted you, and all you are capable of is breaking that trust! That’s the only thing you know how to do. That’s why I risked my life and my child’s life to break the blood debt. You would have your daughter born a slave to get your way."

"That’s enough, Cynthia." I slam my hands down on the counter, my heart shattering at her accusations. "You know nothing! You think all this, this apartment, this job, they just fell into your life? I bought this apartment the very night you left. I was already in talks with that company you work for. I acquired it overnight, at the number they were asking, all so you could have a job. You wanted to learn how to drive, so I made sure you got the best school to teach you, that you got the safest car there was. When you were looking for preschools for Riya, I paid a donation to one of the best ones in Detroit so they would give one spot to our daughter. I made sure you and Riya were sent the best cuts of meat every week through a ’company’ program. I had to jump through hoops to try and be involved in your lives without letting you know I was! I never got to hold Riya when she was born. I never got to hear her first word, or see her first step. I missed out on everything because I was trying to keep you both safe. If I wanted to do all those cruel things to you that you’re accusing me of, I would have simply dragged you back the same night you left."

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them.

This is not how I wanted to tell her all this. I wanted a peaceful conversation, perhaps some tears, but a calm and civil environment.

"So, basically," Cynthia says after a few moments, her face white as a sheet, "you’re telling me that nothing in these four years is my achievement? You manipulated everything from the get-go."

The look of sheer devastation in her eyes kills me.

"No." I round the counter, needing to touch her, desperate to give her some assurance. "That’s not what I meant-"

"Don’t touch me." She stumbles back, her hands trembling. "I couldn’t even get a job without you, right? I couldn’t put food on the table without you."

"Cynthia," I try, the air of finality in her voice frightening me. "That’s not it. You got the position because of your resume. I would have––"

Her fingers are over her mouth as she steps back from me. "I can’t stay here."

I block her path. "Where will you go? Look, just hear me out. There are a lot of things you need to know."

"I don’t need to know anything." She shakes her head. "I just need to get away from you. You, Tony, Maya, I’ve just been a sick joke to all of you."

"No." I grab her by the arms, desperate now. "No, you’re not. Cynthia, you don’t know what happened."

"I don’t need to know." She pushes me off. "I know betrayal when I see it. You’re right. You’re-You’re Riya’s father. Her mother is capable of nothing. So, you should take her with you. Do what you want with this place, with everything. I just… I wish I had never met you, Adam Moore. I wish you and I had never crossed paths."

My head shoots up, my chest seizing with a sharp pain.

Rejection.

Her wolf is rejecting me.

As she runs past me, tears in her eyes, I stand frozen there, unable to move.

Everything I worked for, it’s slipped out of my hands.

Even my mate’s wolf doesn’t want me anymore.