My heartbeat picked up at his words. I suspected something like that, but hearing it spoken aloud sent defeat rushing through me. I’d fought for so long and so hard to suppress the chimera’s curse, and I knew I’d eventually lose. I just didn’t expect it to happen this soon. “And if I don’t want to?”
A heavy exhale escaped him.
“You already know what happened to me, don’t you?” Sitting next to Cernunnos felt like sitting in front of a furnace. I always associated the fae with cool spring nights and early autumn evenings, but the king’s power felt like a deeply hidden pool of lava.
“I know everything about you, Evangeline.”
I stiffened. “Why?”
“That is a question I am not ready to answer.”
His power might feel like a volcano, but he was just as cagey as the rest of the fae. “Why should I trust you?”
“Because you already know the truth. You feel the difference in your blood, the battle your body is fighting. Still fighting all these years later. Perhaps if you allow yourself to examine this, you may find some interesting surprises.”
My thoughts briefly flicked to Caelan and how I felt like I couldn’t physically walk away from him. But something about Cernunnos’ words bothered me. I didn’t want any interesting surprises.
Surprises were for people who didn’t have to hide themselves. I’d done a deep dive on the chimera race after my attack, studying every piece of literature I could get my hands on. I knew what they were capable of. Why would Cernunnos imply I’d find a surprise if I fully embraced the chimera’s magic?
Whatever the answer might be, I wanted no reminder of that night, and I’d devoted myself to searching for a way to purge its magic from my body. Without much luck, granted, but I still had a few irons in the fire.
Something about sitting out here with the king of the fae in my dreamscape during a cool, stunning summer evening made me try raw honesty.
“I don’t want to give up who I am.” My voice sounded meek. Small. “I like my life.” A tear slipped down my face. Even thoughI knew things weren’t perfect, they were good enough. Weren’t they?
Cernunnos said nothing for a long moment. A mixture of emotions played over the planes of his face. “Do you think a child knows who it is, Evie?”
I frowned. “Of course not.”
“A child’s growth and personality depend on many factors. Physical and emotional environment, life experiences, education. A child who knows nothing but love feels free to give love, but one who knows rejection hides their pain and refuses to believe love is real when it’s offered. They learn to survive.”
His words plucked at all the raw pieces inside me, all the places that had never healed when I was a little girl who only wanted to be loved.
“And so they grow up,” he continued, “and they get jobs, fall in love, maybe have kids. Then maybe they get divorced, or have a miscarriage, or become paralyzed in an accident. Or worse.”
He lifted a powerful shoulder in a shrug. “Or better. There’s no way to tell. But as the child grows, their minds and personalities are shaped with everything happening around them and to them. For most people, the same cycle continues until they either give up or they die.”
His words struck something inside me. My magic churned like acid in my gut. “Are you saying I don’t know who I am?”
He smiled sadly. “I am saying you know who you are today, but things are ever-changing. You might be a different person in a week from now. Maybe even tomorrow.”
“If I stop trying to suppress the chimera magic and explore how it works.”
He didn’t acknowledge my words and instead abruptly changed the subject. “Tell me, Evangeline. Do you know who your father is?”
I jerked my attention to him. “Excuse me?” My heart leapt in response to his question. I assumed my father was some poor human man my mother had seduced. She killed him shortly after coitus like some fucked up praying mantis and told me so while we were sharing pizza one night during one of her thankfully rare visits.
I have no idea who he was or even his name. The only thing my mother ever told me about him was that “he was so very pretty, darling.” As if that wouldn’t give me nightmares for the next thousand years.
“Your Floromancy comes from your mother?”
I shrugged, suspecting he already knew the answer. “Mom isn’t exactly forthcoming with information. I assume so. She has powerful healing abilities, so I believe those came from her.”
“Perhaps. But Cliona does not have true power over flora. She can do the small magics common with all the fae, but powerful plant life and earth magic are beyond her capabilities.”
“So that’s a no on the Floromancy,” I said dryly.
His smile was enigmatic. “Floromancy is an ancient magic, Evie. Far older than much of your maternal line. Have you ever questioned what you gained from your father?”
