His own limbs shaking, he crossed the room to gather her into his arms. “How?”
“I don’t know. One minute I was frozen, and then I washere. Wherever this is.”
Closing his eyes, Falcyn fisted his hand in her long, flame-red hair that parted to show off her pointed ears. Her translucent, vibrant green gaze seared him. And she was still one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
She clutched at his back. “I know.” Kissing his cheek, she pulled back to stare at Maddor. “He is your father, Maddor. Just as Blaise is your son.”
That sucked every bit of the air from the room and had the same impact as a nuclear bomb detonating in their midst.
Blaise stumbled back. “W-w-w-what?”
Falcyn ground his teeth at the way she told him something he’d have been much more delicate with.
Xyn nodded. “I was there when you were born. Your mother was furious, thinking your albinism had to do with Max’s curse.”
“What curse?”
Falcyn winced as she unwittingly spilled the beans. “I never told Blaise the truth, Xyn.” For a reason—as the last thing he’d wanted was to hurt him.
Her jaw went slack. “I’m so sorry. I assumed he knew.”
Falcyn shook his head. “By the time I learned about his birth, he was grown. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then. Thanks, sister. You were always good at ratting me out.”
Maddor sat down. “Blaise is my son? How?”
Xyn sighed. “Ormarra. She hid her pregnancy from you and was hoping to parlay Blaise’s birth to her advantage.”
“When I was born deformed, she tried to kill me.”
Brogan moved to hold Blaise. “You’re not deformed!” Her low tone was punctuated by Falcyn’s shout of the same words.
“And I killed her for her actions against you,” Xyn said. “Everything you were told, Blaise, was a lie concocted by Morgen to hurt you. You were still wet from cracking open your egg when I took you to Emrys to raise. The only truth you knew was that your father was the leader of the mandrakes.”
He’d just assumed it was the mandrake before Maddor, because only a tiny handful of fey knew Maddor was the first of their breed.
Another lie Morgen had kept so that no one would know she was related to their race.
Maddor growled at Xyn. “You should have told me about him!”
“I was planning to once I knew he was safe, but Morgen caught wind of my intentions and trapped me here before I had the chance.”
With a fierce roar, Maddor started for Xyn, only to be stopped by some unseen force.
“You can’t harm her,” Brogan reminded him. “I haven’t given you her name.”
“I hate all of you!” he roared.
Falcyn flinched as Medea moved to stand next to him so that she could offer him comfort. But the guilt he felt over his son didn’t last long. It gave way to a profound fury while he raked his gaze over Maddor’s former dragon body and then his new one as the Black Crom. “How dareyou! Feel free to hate me all you want. I deserve it. Blaise, however, has never done anything to deserve your animosity for him. He’s your son. One you’ve treated like hell and mocked over the centuries for no reason whatsoever. You owe him an apology.”
Maddor scoffed at Falcyn. “You’re daring to lecturemeon parenthood? Seriously?”
“Yeah, and I’ll bust your ass, boy! Don’t ever think I can’t take you in a fight. I promise you, I’ve eaten much tougher hides than yours and used their scales for shoes. If you want to act like a child, then I’ll treat you like one.”
The real Crom made a noise deep inside the dragon’s body.
Falcyn turned toward him at the sound, curious as to what was causing it. “What’s going on, Brogan? He about to spew?”
She shook her head. “It’s the strife between the two of you. It feeds him. Makes him—”
