Page 88 of Into The Green

"It's been a busy day at this entrance, you know," he said, the words lingering like he was waiting for me to beg him to tell me what he had seen. I didn't need to. I already knew. "You know, eyes aside, she looks nothing like Cass. But she's the spitting fucking image of her mother," he said, effectively stopping me in my tracks.

"Her mother?" I asked, turning back.

"That's why Opal wanted her. I don't think she had any clue that Cass was her father, but she sure as hell knew that Dany was her mother."

"Dany? As in Danburite? The Light princess?"

"Well, not anymore," he said with a shrug.

"You're telling me that Cece is a child of both Courts? How is that possible?"

"I don't know how it's possible. I just know that's how it is. Now if Cass is taking Cece against her will, I'm going to assume that the Light will have something to say about that. Cass has an heir already, the Light throne is up for grabs. And you know they prefer women on that throne. Cece can fill that role. And if Cass plans to drain her like he does with the rest of his pet projects, it will mean war between the Light and Dark."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, feeling hope start to break open in my chest. "You're Light, but you're close with Cass."

"Let's just say a war between the courts is the last thing any of us need. The Light need an heir. I can gain their favor again. Besides, I think my life can use a little atonement."

"Don't start going all mushy on me, Dad. I don't think I can handle that shit right now."

He let out a snort of breath, shaking his head. "I'll never be that man you saw inside my head, Jasper. That man got buried for almost two decades. And regardless of the ability to feel anything other than the rage and despair, that doesn't change that I have become someone other than who I was. I won't be getting mushy on you. I'm not even going to apologize. But I am offering you a way to get the woman you love back. Think of how differently my life might have gone if I was given a real chance to stay with your mother."

"You could have. You chose not to."

"Don't speak of things you don't understand, Jasper. Could I have turned my back on my ancestry, my inheritance, my good standing for Alex? Yes. And I would have. I would have made that decision without thought. Opal, the conniving, evil woman she is, had other tricks up her sleeve. This was the only way, whether you would like to accept that or not. And I have to sleep in this bed I have made. But you don't have to. Do what you need to do so you don't have regrets so heavy on your shoulders that they could make your knees buckle even twenty some-odd years later. Go to the Light. Let them handle this for you."

With that, he turned to walk away. "Dad?"

He looked over his shoulder at me, brow raised. "Think maybe more of that atonement might lead you in the direction of Baba Yaga? I know Jade is of the forgiving sort."

He nodded a little solemnly and kept walking, but if I wasn't mistaken, he took a direction that led away from his home and toward Baba Yaga's.

I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself not to over think the conversation with my father. He was right when he told me he was never going to be the man I saw inside him. Even with a conscience back and the ability to feel joy again, he was forever changed by the darkness that had consumed him for so long. He would never be the man he could have been. I didn't need him to be. But Jade, yeah, she could use all the good men she could get. I hoped for her sake that he could step up and at least try. For Amy as well. She deserved a father who gave a shit.

For me, yeah, I had other things to worry about.

Like how to convince the guards at the Light court to let me in to see the Seelie queen. Then somehow convince her that she had a granddaughter that was half Dark royalty and that the Unseelie king was keeping her prisoner for experimentation. All of that without getting myself dragged in and locked away for being out of my fucking mind.

But at least I had a three day walk to think about it.

All the while worrying myself sick that Cece might not live long enough to be saved.

TWENTY

Cece

Really, it was like being an unwanted child home from boarding school for winter break. That was exactly how I felt. I was, in no uncertain terms, expected to speak, dress, and act according to a list of rules I was never privy to reading. The room I was imprisoned in was nice. Actually, it was the nicest room I had ever been in in my life. Fit for royalty and all that. It was about twice the size as my apartment with Jade. The cool stone walls were offset with beautiful ornate carpets, a giant black four poster bed with a billowing white canopy and crisp cotton sheets. As I expected, there was no television, radio, or any form of entertainment that weren't books on fae history. I wasn't complaining, though, because I could use the brushing up.

Nothing happened that day save for a fae with a strange shade of blue skin came in, head ducked, arms piled with clothes she carefully put away in my wardrobe. When she was gone, I slipped into a pair of white hemp pants and a matching tunic-style shirt with a blue paisley design stitched around the collar. Really, it was hideous. But it wasn't covered in blood of a faun I was responsible for the death of.

With that, I grabbed a book and climbed into the bed, trying to ignore the chanting outside my door, trying not to analyze what it meant that they always did it around me. Protection spell, maybe? I had no idea. All I knew was it was unsettling.

On the second day and four refused meals total, meals I really had no business refusing seeing as my hunger was taking on a new intensity that made me lightheaded to stand and my eyes swim as I tried to read, when there was a sharp rap on my door a mere second before it flew open.

"If you're trying to kill yourself, a hunger strike will take twice as long for a fae than a human. You're in for a good two or three months of that clawing feeling in your stomach."

Cass stopped at the foot of my bed, glancing at the books I had scattered around with interest. "I'm not on a hunger strike," I confirmed, using one small book to bookmark the huge tome I was reading, sitting up cross-legged.

"Explain the not eating then."