Felix watched Dahlia’s expression closely. It was gratifying to see she looked a little offended on his behalf when she answered, “No, I haven’t.”
“It’s good to know Felix has some manners after all.” Alastair’s tone was scathing.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Dahlia replied, rolling her eyes.
Felix made a face. He couldn’t very well deny it, but that didn’t mean he wanted Dahlia and Alastair getting all chummy about it.
“Listen, Mr. Bowan,” she continued, ignoring him. “There seems to be some cultural misunderstanding happening here, so I’d appreciate it if you could explain what you want with me.”
There was a slight pause. “You’re my daughter.” The answer was brusque, utterly self-assured. “You belong with the Bowans. You should be here, living with us and under our protection.”
He had no idea what answer Dahlia expected. Felix had told her that Alastair would claim her as his daughter, so he really didn’t feel like the shocked look on her face was warranted.
“You don’t even know me,” she protested.
“I don’t need to. Most people don’t get to choose their children. We accept what we’re given, whatever and whoever they are.”
Dahlia seemed taken aback by that for a moment. Gathering herself, she muttered, “That’s lovely, I guess. But I’m a grown woman, Mr. Bowan. You can’t just decide where I should live and who I should be with.”
Alastair brushed her point off as easily as one might swat a fly. “I’m your father. Of course I can.”
“How do we know for sure that it was your blood, anyway?” Felix arched a brow at her sudden backtracking on the fact she’d been so very sure about just an hour ago. “I mean,really,it could’ve been anyone?—”
“Dahlia,” Alastair sighed, “we both know that isn’t likely.”
She swallowed. “So what happens now?”
“Felix sends you to my home unharmed, avoiding any bloodshed, and you move into the house with myself and my anchor — who hasn’t slept in my bed since this happened, by the way. He’s furious I let you be taken. For the sake of my relationship, Dahlia, you need to come home.”
Felix reached for the phone. “Not happening, prick.”
Slapping his hand away from the screen before he could end the call, Dahlia said, “Okay, that’s a very nice offer, but I’m going to have to pass. I am not moving in with you, Mr. Bowan, and I’m not going to be Felix’s prisoner, either. I have a life. I’m not just going to leave it because my biology is a little different.”
The men protested at the same time. Felix scoffed, his eyes rolling at the idea that Dahlia was his prisoner, of all things, while Alastair made a firm noise of dissent.
“That’s not going to be possible. It’s unsafe for a blood bride to wander around without protection, and it's even less safe for a Bowan to do so. There’s no other option. You’ll move in with us.”
“You arenotgoing to the Bowans,” Felix argued, snagging the phone off the desk at last. “You’re staying here because you’re mine. You’ve been mine for years, Dahlia. You’re not aprisoner.I’m doing everything I can to keep you safe.”
When Alastair began making derisive sounds through the speaker, Felix finally had enough. He ended the call and stuffed the phone in his pocket. Without taking his eyes off his girl’s increasingly livid expression, he pointed over her shoulder to the door.
“Hey, voyeurs — fuck off. I need to talk to my bride.”
Milo and Marietta shared a look before they turned and exited the office. The door closed with a soft click only a second before Dahlia hissed, “You can’t keep me here, Felix. I came with you because you told me I was in danger,notbecause I agreed to live with you.”
“I can keep you here because Iamprotecting you,” he argued, headache beginning to throb in his temples. Skipping sleep had been a bad idea. So had letting her anywhere near a phone. “Dahlia, you don’t seem to understand that the life you had is gone. It isn’t something you could go back to even if I wanted to let you, which I don’t.”
“Why not? Explain it to me, Felix!”
He sliced a hand through the air. “You aren’t Dahlia McKnight anymore! You’re Dahlia fucking Bowan! And you’re a blood bride. I wish that didn’t mean anything, but it does. It means you’re a syndicate pawn just like the rest of us. It means that you’ll be hunted to the ends of the fucking earth by vampires who want what your new family has. You’ll never be free of it, Dahlia. You’ll never be able to change their minds or make them see reason. You’re just a venom type to them. A fucking name brandwomb.”
“Oh, I see. And it’s not like that for you, is it? You’re not influenced by this newfound importance of mine.” She leaned over the desk, palms planted on the wood, and snarled, “Then tell me why you waited three years, Felix, but the moment you got the news, you showed up at my front door.”
“I told you why I waited three years.” Matching her posture, Felix hunched his shoulders to bring them nose to nose. “But fine. You want the full truth? You’ll get it. When it was safe, I was going to keep you for a little while. Enjoy my life and get a little taste of actual love before I resigned myself to a soulless fucking existence with a blood bride. I was going to let you go, Dahlia, because I care about you too much to make you live that life with me.”
Dahlia’s eyes widened. Her mouth worked but no sound escaped. When she did finally speak, it was with a disturbingly quiet voice. “You… You were going to marry another woman?”
Marry?Felix had to think for a second, weighing what the word meant.
