Unlike usual, he came to an abrupt stop at the last second before contact was made, and eyed me in question.
Okay, so that was surefire confirmation. They did think I’d been abused by Ruxnoth.
“Go ahead,” I told Ketheron.
His eyes sparkled and then he was throwing his arms around me in a bear hug, even making me and Mom laugh as he lifted me off the ground in his excitable relief.
He whispered in my ear, “I’m so sorry I had to tell them.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered back. “I put you in a bad situation, and I’m sorry.”
He eased from me and shook his head. “You don’t need to be. I understand. It was impossible for you also.”
“It shouldn’t have been impossible,” Dad’s voice rumbled, startling me, as he materialized in a burst of teleportation at the doorway. “You left yourself at a serious disadvantage, Winter. Your Necromancy compromised, knowing something was causing it, something powerful enough to impact you. You suffered because of it. You were left alone in terror and confusion because of it.”
Adrenaline thrummed through me as he leveled all those accusations upon me.
Or, what I thought were accusations.
Until his expression softened and he said, “And I’m so sorry.”
“You… what?”
I looked at Mom and she smiled sadly.
Ketheron stepped to the side and gave me a reassuring chin lift.
And then Dad strode into the room—or swaggered, as was his way. But it lacked his usual spark. There was so much sadness there, so much grief.
“Never do that again. Don’t keep us in the dark like that. The ramifications are too severe, too fucking damaging, Winter. I’m not talking about to the wider supernatural world right now either. All I’m talking about is the damage to you. The agony it caused you. All of it leading to that comment you made to me when we found you—about the world not wanting you.”
He ground his jaw. “You are not a stain on this world. You’re not a dangerous unchecked entity. And I will make them see that. Okay? Do you hear me? I will alter the rhetoric. I will make it so youneverfeel like that again. Because you’re wanted, son. I can’t even accurately convey how deeply loved and wanted you actually are, what you’ve brought to our lives. It’s my fault that you feel this way. I made the decision to keep you from the world, to appease them and their concerns, their unfounded fears. Instead, I should’ve led us toward altering perception, toshowing them who you really are, what you can do through a positive lens.”
“Dad, no, that’s not your fault. None of this is.”
He grimaced. “I swear to you here and now that you won’t be locked down here again. No matter what happens, how things play out. That’s no longer an option. The fact I even considered it when we first brought you back here yesterday… it was the panic, the fear and upset for what you went through, that you were taken. But that’s not your burden to bear.” He reached out and stroked my hair. “You won’t feel the weight of it again.”
What he was offering so passionately, so painfully… it couldn’t actually be done.
But he was desperate enough to believe it could be.
The way people saw me… he’d known all these years that it couldn’t be altered.
It was why he’d pushed for the locking-down, intensely protective approach to keep me safe from the world. My family had done what they’d had to, the only option available. And in doing that, I hadn’t known what the supernatural world really thought of me—that I was wrong in their eyes. Once I’d started being allowed out into it, that was when it had hit me. And I knew that was why Dad had been reluctant to allow me out even during those days of just once-in-a-while visits into the world beyond these walls. He hadn’t wanted me to be subjected to that. At the time I’d resented that from him. Mom, Father, and Pops had overruled him and I’d seen them asgetting it,gettingme.But in truth, it had just been an impossible situation all around.
And it always would be.
Saying it wasn’t my burden… that was another lie.
But something he didn’t even realize was an actual lie. None of them did.
I was twenty years old now. Safeguarding me was no longer their job.
It. Was. Mine.
“Dad, I don’t need you to do that.” I looked out at Mom. “None of you.”
Dad pulled away and frowned. “What does that mean?”
