Page 152 of Bonded Chaos

Then my eyes darted to Malesh. He was muttering curses under his breath as he paced back and forth, wearing a hole in the hard ground.

Eamon sat beside him, his head in his hands as though he couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

In such a short time, Cadence had become an irreplaceable feature in all our lives, and her loss was excruciating.

The ache in my chest twisted into something sharper, something more volatile. My grief gave way to rage, burning brightly until it became an unrelenting tempest that consumed me whole.

If the fates deemed it acceptable to allow Cadence to be taken from me, then they could watch as the world burned in her absence.

“I’m going to kill them all. Every. Fucking. One. Of. Them.”

Chapter Sixty-One

Cadence

I followed my father’s footsteps as we broke through the tree line of the dark forest. A large clearing lay ahead, where a makeshift camp had been set up. People milled about preparingbedding and tending to chores, while others sat in small groups, enjoying the warmth of the fire.

The camp appeared calm, even relaxed, but subtle hints suggested they were ready to flee at any moment. Packs were carefully arranged next to bedrolls, horses were tethered but saddled, and their weapons were all within arm’s reach, their sharp edges gleaming in the firelight.

My father led me to a nearby log, his massive frame taking up most of the space. Every set of eyes in the camp followed my movements, as if waiting for me to attack. Their distrust and resentment bore into me, making my skin prickle under the intensity of their glares.

I focused my attention on the man I had long believed dead as I tried to block out the feeling of the narrowed gazes still lingering on me. My father appeared older, a rare feat for a Fae, hinting at a life that was far from easy. His once golden skin looked weathered and was littered with scars. His piercing brown eyes, so similar to my own, stared back at me, but they lacked the warmth I’d clung to as a child.

The man before me was not the father I remembered, but a stranger forged by hardship and vengeance.

“Tell me how you’re not dead,” I demanded, not bothering to soften the blow.

He winced, but he didn’t shy away from my question.

“I was badly injured during the assault on the Unseelie Palace, and I would have died, if not for the Wraith Borne who risked their lives to bring me to safety.”

“And my mother?” I asked, unable to hide the vulnerability in my voice.

My father shook his head and averted his gaze. I watched as he stared into the fire, tracking the tiny embers as they danced along the wind. When his gaze returned to mine, all softness had disappeared, and in its place was unyielding fury.

“Dead,” he said without emotion.

I swallowed hard. This had been my reality for years, but hearing it confirmed after a glimmer of hope had taken hold was just as crippling as the first time those words reached my ears.

“So, you survived the Cleansing, hid in the shadows, and let me believe you were dead,” I accused.

Those gathered around the fire were doing all they could to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping, but the way their bodies leaned toward us gave away their intentions.

My father placed his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands together. The firelight danced across his hollow cheekbones, and he studied me for a long moment before speaking.

“I did what I had to, Cadence,” he said, his voice calm but devoid of remorse. “Surviving wasn’t a choice, but a necessity.”

My hands curled into fists as years of grief and anger flared within me.

“And what, your only child, who had just lost everything she loved, whose world had been turned upside down, would have derailed your chances?”

“Yes,” he said, and I couldn’t mask the hurt that stabbed through my chest.

My father exhaled as he scratched at the light stubble adorning his cheeks.

“I didn’t want to leave you, Cadence, but it wasn’t safe for you to join me. This life,” he said, waving a hand around the camp, “is no way to raise a wee one. You were better off where you were.”

“It’s been eight decades! I haven’t been a child for a long time.”

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