Demon's Dance (Lizzie Grace 4)
But Belle was right. If this reservation was our end destination, then we’d certainly need Aiden, his rangers, and even the council in our corner.
Whether it would, in the end, make any difference was an unknown point at this stage of the game.
“Do you really think you’re alone in taking that risk?” he asked softly.
The smile that tugged my lips held little in the way of amusement. “Why would I think otherwise? You’ve certainly sent out enough warnings over the last few months that you’ll never get deeply involved with someone who wasn’t a werewolf.”
“And for the most part, that’s true. But that doesn’t mean the risk isn’t there. Doesn’t mean I won’t be hurt if you decide you’ve fooled around long enough with a werewolf and walk away.” He released one hand and lightly brushed the back of his fingers down my cheek. “None of us know what the future holds, Liz. None of us know which relationship will develop into a meeting of heart and soul. I can’t ever promise that I won’t find someone else, but neither can you. All I know is, at this point in time, I want to be with you. I want to explore the full breadth and width of this attraction between us. But only if honesty is a part of that relationship.”
His words had tears stinging my eyes. I blinked the ridiculous things away and took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath.
“Fine,” I said eventually. “But you can’t share this with anyone, Aiden. The gossip brigade has enough to talk about already.”
“You have my word that I will never willingly share anything with the brigade.” His brief smile died as quickly as it had appeared. “And no one else has the need to know.”
“Good.” I paused to drink some coffee and wished it were something stronger. “While my real name is now Elizabeth Grace, it’s not the name I was born with—that’s Elizabeth Marlowe. My father is a leading member of the high witch council.”
He didn't say anything. He just waited for me to continue. Perhaps he knew that if he spoke, my courage might falter.
“I was an utter disappointment to my parents. They’re two of the strongest witches of their generation, and both my sister and brother were similarly gifted. I was not, and they never let me forget it.”
“Is that why you ran?” he asked softly.
“No.” I paused again. “When I was sixteen years old, my sister was murdered; to say it had a devastating effect on my parents—but particularly my dad—is something of an understatement.”
He squeezed the hand he still held, but didn't offer any of the usual platitudes. But then, having lost his own sister, he knew well enough how little they helped.
“She was the final victim of a serial killer,” I continued after a moment, “and my father took his grief out on me—”
“Why?” Aiden cut in. “What did you have to do with her death?”
I smiled, but only because it was better than releasing the pain and the tears that were gathering. “Nothing. My crime was finding her when they, for all their abilities and power, could not.”
“That hardly seems reasonable—”
“Grief and reason don’t often go together, Aiden. You know that.”
“True.” He hesitated. “So you ran to get away from your dad’s anger?”
“Not so much his anger, but his punishment.”
“What did he do?”
I briefly closed my eyes and took another of those deep breaths that did little to ease the turmoil inside. “He decided that the only possible use I could have was as a breeder—that in my children, th
e power that I was missing might be found.”
Or rather, the power that had been lost with Cat’s death would be reborn in one of my offspring.
Aiden didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move. And yet a wave of disbelief and fury hit me, a force so strong it damn near blistered my senses.
“As I’ve said before,” I continued, “arranged marriages remain very common amongst witch families—”
“But you were sixteen—”
“Which only meant I couldn't marry without his consent.” My mouth twisted. “My consent apparently didn’t matter.”
“Fuck, Liz, no wonder you ran.” He tugged me closer and rested his forehead against mine. “Did you even know the man?”