He would tell her. Today, he would tell her everything—her blood, her father’s reasons, the danger that waited beyond these walls.
And then he would ask her what she wanted to do. And whatever she chose, he would stand beside her. That was his own choice, freely made.
She was his mate. His beast had known it from the first moment he saw her, and his rational mind had finally caught up. He would protect her with his life if necessary.
But he would never cage her. Never.
He slipped back into the bedroom just as she was stirring. Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep, and a smile curved her lips when she saw him.
“You’re awake early,” she murmured.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “We need to talk.”
Her smile faded. Something in his expression must have warned her, because she pushed herself up on her elbows, suddenly alert.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” He took a breath. “But I found something. Something you need to see.”
“What kind of something?”
He met her eyes and saw the courage there. The determination. The fierce, unbreakable will that had called to him from the very beginning.
“The truth,” he said. “About why you’re really here.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“The truth about why you’re really here.”
The words hung in the air between them, heavy as stone. Liora sat up fully, the sheets pooling around her waist, her heart already beating faster than it should. Baylin’s expression was difficult to read in the pale dawn light—as careful as if he were handling something fragile. She climbed out of bed and pulled on a dress.
“Show me,” she said.
He led her to a panel she’d passed a hundred times without a second glance. When he pressed his palm against it, the surface gave way to reveal a narrow shaft lined with metal rungs.
“I found this last night,” he said. “While you were sleeping.”
She stared at the opening. A maintenance shaft hidden in plain sight. She’d lived in this tower for twenty-one years, and she’d never known it existed.
“ARIS,” she said quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
The AI’s response came immediately, its tone as pleasant and measured as always. “The maintenance shaft provides access to restricted areas. Per my primary directive, I am required to limit your exposure to potentially distressing information.”
“Distressing information about what?”
Silence.
He touched her elbow. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
The room at the bottom of the shaft was white and sterile, filled with medical equipment that hummed with dormant power. Liora turned in a slow circle, taking it all in—the scanners, the diagnostic terminals, the table that looked disturbingly like a dissection surface.
“What is this place?”
“I think it’s where they studied you.” He crossed to a storage unit in the corner. “When you were younger. Before your nursemaid died.”
He opened a drawer and retrieved a handful of small crystals, each labeled in handwriting she recognized. Susan’s handwriting. The woman who’d raised her, who’d read to her and bandaged her scraped knees and held her when she cried.
The woman who’d been keeping secrets.
