“Why are you telling me this now?” he croaks out.
“Xerxei knows who the father is now,” Xanthe says in defeat. “She said before she didn’t know, no one knew, no one knew!”
“She knows whose it was?” Xane asks and his mother nods. “Who?”
“She didn’t say. She made me tell you,” Xanthe says.
The desperation in his mother’s voice drives him over the edge. He lifts his arm and he backhands her hard across the face. She drops at his feet and he spits on the ground next to her. “You are despicable,” he hisses at her. “To lie to me! To lie to everyone. I wept for the loss, the pain I felt was unbearable and it is all because of you.”
“I’m sorry,” Xanthe sobs.
“Do not apologize to me!” Xane roars. “You have always been a manipulative bitch but this time you have gone too far! You are dead to me.”
“Xane, no!” Xanthe says, the fear in her eyes evident. “Please, you cannot banish me.”
“Too late,” he says coldly. “Get your stuff out of Xerxei’s house and leave. I never want to see you in my domain again.”
“But where will I go?” she pleads. “Xane, please.”
“Get up and get out,” he says and turns his back on the weeping woman that is no longer his mother.
He walks away stiffly, needing the time to get his thoughts under control. He must find Xerxei, he must find out what this means for them. He has to know who the real father of her child was, the child for which he has mourned so long.
Xane finds her sitting on a stone bench with the Wolf resting his head on her lap. She is stroking him absently, her gaze faraway.
“Xane,” she says as she looks at him. She stands up quickly, causing Lincoln to bound off the bench and sit by her side.
Xane’s gaze bores into the Wolf and with a little snuffle of Xerxei’s hand, he slopes off, knowing that this is private. “How long have you known?” he asks.
“A little under a day,” she replies.
“Why didn’t you tell me straight away?” he asks forlornly. He can’t help it. If she had a single, caring bone in her body, she would have been the one to break it to him. It just confirms everything he has been feeling since he lost his mark: without it, they have nothing.
“Things got in the way,” she says shortly. “Besides, this was your mother’s responsibility. It was her mess to clean up.”
“Whose was it?” he asks carefully.
“Does it matter?” she asks, stroking her growing bump. He stares at her hand moving lovingly over her stomach and he feels sick. They could have had this, or at least that is what he had been hanging on to.
“I guess not,” he says eventually. “Who else knows?”
“Just the father,” she says with a sorrowful look. “We are going to keep quiet about it, for now.”
Xane nods his head. At least there is that. He will be saved the humiliation that is coming his way.
“I’m sorry,” she says, taking his hand. “I know how painful this time has been for you and you could have been saved it.”
“Yes, well, my mother has been punished. I have banished her. I cannot forgive her deceit this time,” he says coldly.
“Oh,” Xerxei says and looks down.
Xane squeezes her hand and tries desperately to feel the connection that they used to have.
“It’s gone,” she whispers.
“I know,” he whispers back. “Do you have that bond with Remiel now?” He just can’t help the question nor the bitterness with which it is asked.
“I can’t feel it,” she says, searching his eyes. “The Vampire side consumes everything.”