Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I watch him draft another letter in silence. For the short time I’ve known him, Bram has very intentionally gone out of his way not to make waves. The only time he’s really dug in his heels with me was when he caught me sneaking out that first time. Watching him now, seeing the stubborn set of his brow and the determination in his movements, I can’t help the feeling that sinks its roots into my very core. It’s warm and comforting and yet terrifying all the same.
“You don’t need my approval, but I’m proud of you. I know this isn’t easy for you.”
He pauses, then speaks without looking up at me. “I might not need your approval, but I appreciate it all the same.” Bram finishes this letter and goes through the same process of drying and sealing it. “My father was a good leader when he first took the position. Or at least that’s what everyone says. I don’t know if it’s true. Long as I can remember, he avoided his duties, seeking his pleasure over the benefit of our people. I’ve found that when a person dies, people have a habit of washing away their sins.”
“I’ve found the same.” IMy legs are tired from all the stairs this past week. A few weeks ago, I could have done them without blinking, but I haven’t kept up with my training. I didn’t realize until now that it’s been a relief to let go of it. I like being active, but I’ve always had an ulterior motive. Weakness is something an enemy will exploit. If I’m not good enough, I will die and possibly get others killed as well. That pressure really takes any enjoyment out of training.
I take a slow breath and refocus on the present . . . more or less. The past never seems to be far when I’m with Bram. I still don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “When my grandfather died, it was like the moment he passed, he took all the unforgivable shit with him. I barely recognized the man my family talked about in the aftermath. It didn’t make sense to me then, and it doesn’t make sense to me now. The pain people cause by being horrible and selfish and monstrous doesn’t magically disappear with them.”
“No. It doesn’t.” Bram sits back and holds out a hand. “Come here.”
I’ve never been one for cuddling and the like, but it seems that a lot of things I thought were true don’t hold up with this man. It’s the most natural thing in the world to take his hand and allow him to tug me down onto his lap and wrap his arms around me. I rest my head on his shoulder and allow the warmth of his skin to soothe me. “How do we move forward? Some days it feels like I’m drowning in the past and everything I’ve lost. I know what my family would want from me, but I’m so tired of fighting. I don’t want to do it anymore. I just . . . I don’t know who I am if I’m not what they created me to be.” It’s the first time I’ve spoken the words aloud. The truth of the sentence is so stark that it feels like I’ve reached into the very heart of me.
“You don’t have to decide now.” Bram runs his hand over my hair and down my back. “No matter what else is true, you have time. Whatever you decide will be the right choice.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.” He kisses my temple. “You’re strong, you’re smart, and you’re driven. I have no doubt that you’ll conquer whatever you set your mind to, regardless of the arena.”
His confidence warms me just as much as his comfort. He believes it. I don’t have to check his aura to know it to be true. I press my hand to his chest, right over the steady thump of his heart. Would he have such confidence in me if he knew the truth of my past, my family? I might toe the line of being a true monster, but many in my family have crossed right over it happily.
I don’t believe that the sins of the people in your life bleed into you . . . normally.
He’s given me so much truth, so much vulnerability. Maybe I can return the favor without it blowing up in my face. I close my eyes and take what I hope is a fortifying breath. “When the realms separated, there were people and . . . things stranded in realms that weren’t their home.”
“I know the histories,” he says carefully.
“I don’t know what happened in the other realms, but humans have always been at the bottom of the food chain. We can breed with paranormals and gift our children powers, but if we don’t survive long enough to bear that child, to see them grow to adulthood . . . Well, either way, it doesn’t help the parent any.”