Page 23 of The Prophecy
Should he tell her what the witch had told them? She had a right to know. “All she said was your mother had gone where Darius would never find her. And he didn’t, though I know he searched.”
“So what happened next?”
He blew out his breath, and his arms tightened around her. The next bit was hard. Would she hate him? “I gave the order to have you killed.”
She pursed her lips together tightly, a shadow crossing her face. “Why?” she asked.
“You have to understand—I was furious with Darius, and my decision was made in anger. I regretted it almost immediately. You were an innocent baby, but it was too late. Your father was gone. We hunted for him, but he managed to evade us, and we heard nothing from him until he came with the news of your capture by the fire-demons. He was badly injured, but he survived, and we’ve been working together, searching for you, ever since.”
“So how did you find me now?”
“We received a message. We don’t know who sent it, but it led us to you.”
They were both silent for a while. He tugged at her rigid form, and she relaxed against him.
“Why do you hate them?” she asked. “The witches I mean? I can hear it in your voice.”
Did he hate them? He thought back to his own dealings with the witches, and the dull ache of that memory washed over him. But she deserved to know the truth.
“Long ago,” he said slowly, “I too went to the witches for guidance. They told me nothing but delayed me with promises of knowledge and power. When I finally left, it was to find that the fire-demons had attacked my people. They were wiped out. If I had been there, perhaps I could have somehow saved them.”
“Or perhaps you would have been killed as well. Maybe the witches saw that and prevented your death.” She leaned across and laid a soft kiss in the hollow beneath his throat. “I’m sorry about your people.”
Kael shrugged. “It was a long time ago. And leading the Council has given me purpose. I get to kill fire-demons. What more could I want?”
She smiled at him then. “What more do you want, Kael?” she asked, moving her body sinuously against his. He bit back a groan; he was already hard again, aching for her.
But while he wanted her, he wanted more than sex, at least the hope of more, and fear gnawed at him. Did she feel the same? He stroked a finger down her cheek, under her chin, tilting her face so he could look into her eyes. “My people mated for life,” he said, “and always with their own kind. When they were destroyed, I lost all hope of someone of my own. Now I want back what I thought lost forever. I want a family, a future. With you.”
