Back home my hair was cropped and I had blue streaks, call it my version of rebellion, I liked cowboy boots and jean shorts and preferred tank tops and sweatshirts to anything fancy.
I looked down. I was in a white dress that wrapped tightly around my body, I was wearing thin gold sandals that wrapped all the way up to my thighs, I could tell because my dress has a slit on each side.
I stopped waving when the massive castle gates opened to us.
Why were we going to the castle?
Both men were silent as Alex gave a two-finger salute and led his horse ahead of us into the inner gates.
A trail of yellow and pink roses led up the stairs and toward a massive throne made of black stone.
And sitting there was a carbon copy of my father, only this man looked a lot more like Alex.
He had golden flaxen hair, his eyes were glowing gold, and his armor was swirled in red and silver.
He stood and spread his arms wide in a way my dad had never done before, in a way that made me feel like I belonged in the past more than I belonged in my present. Tears pricked my eyes as someone—maybe Tarek? Mason? It could have been anyone, really—helped me from my horse. I didn’t walk up the stairs. I didn’t even register that this man was anything other than what I’d wanted my entire life—the way I’d wanted my dad to look at me. I’d never realized what I’d been missing.
This. Was. Love.
Despite wearing sandals, I sprinted up those stairs, and then I launched myself into his arms, hoping, praying they would wrap around me the way I dreamed.
And when they did.
I let a tear slip.
“Kyra,” he whispered in a way so reverent, so deep and true that I kept my arms wrapped around his neck even though his skin felt hot like the sun.
He said my name like he knew me.
He said my name like I was his.
Slowly, this god, my father, pulled back and cupped my face, his hands covered in jewels of green and silver. “I missed you.”
I opened my mouth to speak. His accent was slight, mine would be nonexistent. I couldn’t cover up my American heritage, so I said. “I missed you too.”
His eyes flickered and then narrowed, he looked behind me at the three massive figures then back to me. “It seems…” He hesitated. “…that we have a lot to discuss.”
Shit, did he know?
How?
“All right.” I ducked my head but didn’t miss how he wrapped a protective arm around me and led me away, snapping his fingers behind him as Alex, Mason, and Tarek followed.
We didn’t have to go far before I saw my mom, she was walking toward us, her arms outstretched, and then something odd flickered in her gaze with my dad. Massive doors swung closed, leaving us in a large room filled with a feast fit for a king. A long wooden table stood in the center, with several soft purple chase lounges scattered around it.
“Leave us,” Dad barked.
Every single guard left.
At least my guard stayed. I recognized the annoyance in my dad’s gaze, though it was weird seeing him actually express anything other than disappointment.
“I think…” My dad sat at the head of the table. “You should start at the beginning…” His eyes fell to Alex as his voice lowered. “Or perhaps… the end.”
I stiffened.
Where had I gone wrong? He’d seen me a total of five minutes. Tarek reached for my hand and squeezed it then helped me sit down while Mason sat on the other side.
Both of them pulled off their helmets at the same time earning a gasp of horror from both my parents.