Page 82 of Destined Dawn
“Do you work here?” I ask, which is probably a very stupid question but I don’t know what else to say.
Nothing again.
I sigh and finally we reach a grand door. That strange feeling of déjà vu, of recognition, rings through my body. My father’s room. I’m certain of it. The girl knocks lightly against the door and it slides back, the Black Prince standing in the doorway, dressed in another regal gown.
“Come in,” he says.
I enter a grand study, far bigger than the principal’s at Arrow Hart, and designed in dark metal colors, two largepaintings of dragons flying through night skies hanging on the walls, and the windows blacked out and obscuring the view.
The Black Prince clicks his fingers and a fire roars into life in the center of the room, the flickering flames reflected on every gleaming surface, including the black pupils of his eyes. The door slides closed. I hug Pip tight to my chest.
There are so many questions I want to ask. So many things I want to understand. I swing my gaze around the room, grand and sophisticated beyond anything I’ve seen before.
The Black Prince points to a dark leather couch.
“Let us sit and talk. There is much for us to discuss. Much for us to learn about one another.”
I nod and, clutching Pip, come to sit beside him on the couch. Up close, I see just how handsome he is, just how disarming. I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised my mom fell for a man like him. It must be in the genes.
“Where to begin,” he says, smiling at me with affection. “I would like to know all about you, Rhianna.”
I shrug. “There isn’t a whole lot to tell.”
He chuckles. “I don’t think that is true. I rescued you from Christopher Kennedy who seemed to want to kill you. I’m sure there is a lot to tell.”
I chew on my cheek. This man may be my father but I hardly know him and, though I really hate to admit it, Stone is right. I don’t know if I can trust him. Do I tell him about the prophecy? I decide it’s best to keep that to myself for now. “He sees me as a threat.”
“Because of your five fated ones?”
“I think so, yes.”
He takes my hands in his. His are surprisingly cool despite the roaring fire.
“You are safe here. I will protect you.”
“Th-thank you,” I say, realizing in that moment what a relief it is to feel safe. “I have lots of questions for you too. Lots of things I don’t understand.”
“What did they tell you?”
I think. So many things. So many conflicting stories.
“My aunt said the authorities couldn’t be trusted,” I say at last.
“She was right.” His face darkens. “They killed your mother.”
“How do I know that wasn’t you?” I whisper.
“I adored her,” he says, shock adorning his features. “She was …” he squeezes my hands, “the love of my life. We were so happy together.”
“Then why did she run from you? Why did she hide me from you?”
Something flickers in his eyes and I sense his magic swell in the air. It’s dark like this room and I recognize it. My magic may be like my mom’s, but that other magic, the crimson magic that’s grown inside me, that is all his.
“We argued – a stupid, stupid disagreement I have spent all this time regretting. When I realized my mistake, I went after her, tried to find her, hoped to beg her for forgiveness and mend the quarrel between us, plead for her to come back to me.” He dips his gaze. “But I was too late. He had already found her. Already killed her.”
“Who?” I say, my spine straightening. The chancellor said a dark magical had killed my mom.
His face doesn’t alter. “Your fated one’s father.”
