“I see.”
“No, you don’t fucking see because you don’t know a damn thing about me.” Closing my eyes, I blow out a breath and press the cool glass to my forehead, “She chose me. She chose me and decided to let me leave anyways.”
Marlin takes another sip of his drink, wincing slightly as he puts it back down. I’m breathing unsteadily, fogging up the rim of my glass while he’s looking cool and collected.
Drawing attention from every female within proximity.
Bastard.
“Why are you here? I don’t like you and I know for a fact you don’t like me.”
He fiddles with the cuff of his sleeve before rolling it back.
Carefully folding the silk into perfect sections.
“You learn something from a young age in Wolf Hollow.” Tucking the last bit of material beneath his elbow, Marlin shifts and starts rolling the other one, “Every child dreams of the day when they will leave and never come back. Each one of us packs a suitcase, fruitlessly hoping that one day we will find a way to be free.”
A patch of ink covers his forearm, a crashing wave that takes down the ship struggling to ride it.
“Days turn into months and months turn into years. Eventually, you realize there is no one waiting on the other side.”
An anchor streaks through the ocean decorating his skin and buries itself deep in the sand. Locking the shipwreck in place so it can never float away.
“My suitcase ended up on the bottom of the ocean. Others ended up lost, tossed aside or simply destroyed until they were unable to open properly.” Marlin pauses, his eyes drifting over my shoulder, “One way or another, we all come to realize that suitcase will never be opened. Not in the way it was meant to.”
“We’ve all got trauma. I get it.”
“No. I don’t think you do.” Another pause, “Calista was not born within these borders, so her outlook on life was different. Her suitcase never got unpacked simply because there was never any reason to open it.”
I stare at him, feeling my chest grow tight.
“You knew?”
“I had my suspicions.” Sipping the gin, Marlin shakes his head and sets it aside, “The Dragon is a striking woman but notan attractive one. Dark hair and dark eyes tend to be hereditary, unless someone in the family carries a recess gene.”
“Calista’s colouring, not to mention her beauty, had to come from someone. I took the liberty of searching through Maleficent’s family tree and could not find a single blonde.”
I sigh, taking his glass and drinking what’s left.
“Could have been the dad.”
“And then there was that.” Lifting his brow, Marlin glances at me, “In the sixteen years she has been in power, the Dragon has taken very few lovers. And not one of them were a man.”
I groan, lowering my forehead back to the table.
“And you didn’t want to say something sooner?”
“It was only a suspicion until I heard Maddox’s riddle. The way he described the setting with not one parent but two.”
“The father screamed and the mother cried.”
He nods, “Had Maleficent been the mother, it would have been the child crying. Or the maid or some other third party, but he purposefully used the word mother.”
“And you immediately assumed he was talking about Calista?”
“There are some things only a madman can understand.”
A tug to my elbow has my head lifting. Shifting my eyes so I can see a plane ticket slide along the sticky countertop.
