Chapter Eight
Here is my Truth
M alichai
“Can I talk to you?” Dante, my father’s second-in-command, asks when he finds me in the kitchen.
“I’m not sure what we could possibly have to talk about,” I reply, taking a sip of the coffee I just prepared.
“We need to talk about your father. And the future of the Black family.”
“That has nothing to do with me. You know I’m not interested in anything to do with the family.”
Dante shakes his head. “You don’t really get a choice. You were born to lead this family. Why do you think I spent all that time training you, showing you the ropes?”
“Because my father told you to?” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“No.” He takes a breath, running his hand through his hair in agitation. “Your mother did.”
“Excuse me?” My voice is filled with anger and disbelief.
“Annabelle was the Black, not Thomas,” he explains. “Your father took her last name and the family mantle. He has taken this family from bad to worse. And it’s time for you to fix it.”
I’m shocked, shaken to my core by the words a man I have known my entire life just shared with me. How much of my own life isn’t what I thought?
“Tell me the truth,” I demand. “Everything.”
“That will take days, weeks. I will, but now...” he says shaking his head. “What I can tell you is that the enemies are at the gates. Your father has pissed off some unbelievably powerful people. People that intend to harm anyone that has ever been part of his life or family to get their revenge.”
My first thought is Lyrik. Panic envelops me. Not for my own safety or my father’s, but for hers. If my father has fucked this up as badly as Dante says, I can guarantee whoever wants to take him out will know about her.
My dragon roars in anger, making my eyes squint. He roams my mind, stomping around angrily. All he wants to do is shift and go to her.
Mate.
I wish he would stop with that fucking nonsense. For years, not a single communication passed between us and now that’s all he will say. He has clearly lost the plot. Fated mates are a thing of fairy tales and rumors. Not real.
“What do you expect of me?” I ask the man before me, choosing to ignore my beast.
“Get rid of him,” Dante says with finality.
“Kill my father?” I ask, shocked.
I know it happens that some sons take over as the head of their families by killing the previous head. But I’m not that man. I may be a killer, but I’m not a damn sociopath.
“Well, that’s one way. But I would suggest trying to talk to him first.”
****
M y nerves are shot to shit. I haven’t been able to get ahold of Lyrik since she left. I should have said something, stopped her from leaving. It’s insane for her to go up the mountain alone. And now I have the added stress of the family bullshit, my father pressuring me to take my place at his side, and someone that may or may not want to hurt Lyrik as an extension of our family.
“Severe weather conditions are expected for this weekend,” the balding weatherman on the television rambles. “Be prepared for a lot of snow.”
I switch off the living room television with a sneer before tossing the remote on the couch. My gaze drifts to the large picture window, snow already covering every available surface, the mountain white in the distance. My fists clench at my side with the need to do something.
Anything. My dragon tries to force his way out for the tenth time in the past hour, and this time I almost lose the battle. I know he wants to protect her and so do I, but I can’t just burst into her life.
Slipping my phone from the back of my jeans pocket, I scroll to Lyrik’s number—the one she didn’t give me—and stare. I hit the “call” button for what is probably the hundredth time and listen to the ringing down the line. She hasn’t answered in two days, and I doubt she will now, but I still try.
“You have reached the voicemail box for Lyrik...”
Her recorded message drones. I end the call after listening to the rest. Restless energy thrums through my veins.
“What are you doing?” my father questions from the doorway.
I didn’t even hear him come back home. I am so lost in my worry for Lyrik that I have all but blocked out the rest of the world. Her reactions when she was here before bother me and the fact that she all but fled, running from a place that was once her home, has been driving me crazy.
“Does Lyrik still visit you?” I ask instead of answering his question.
He looks shocked that I would ask such a thing.
“Why would she?”
“Because she is family,” I reply automatically.
“No, Malichai. She was my wife’s child, and my wife has been dead for many years,” he says stiffly. “I fulfilled my promise. I raised her, but she isn’t my child.”
“You’re a fucking asshole.” I glare at the man who calls himself my father. “If there was ever any doubt in my mind, you just erased it.”
“What are you going on about?”
He looks at me like I have lost my fucking mind.
“I left this house to get away. From you. I did the right thing so I wouldn’t disappoint you again,” I say, my voice clear as I lay out my truth. “I gave up the only thing I ever wanted so it wouldn’t affect you.”
“Malichai...” he starts, but I cut him off with a glare.
“For years, I have been forced to listen to you and all your ridiculous opinions. Now it’s time for you to listen to me.” I wait to see if he will cut me off again. When he remains silent, I continue. “I’ve been in love with Lyrik for as long as I can remember, and you...” I shake my head to clear the rage. “I gave her up so she could have the life she deserved, so I wouldn’t disappoint you yet again. When her mom died, I left her here, knowing you would be here for her, that she would have some form of family. And now you tell me she has been alone all this time.”
“You love her?” he asks with a disbelieving chuckle, not addressing the fact that he all but abandoned her.
“Not that you would know anything about love,” I sneer.
“Well, you can have her now. She can be a gift to you on the day you take your position as the head of the Black family,” he replies with derision. “She’s a decent lay.”
“Excuse me?”
The words are barely above a whisper. He can’t be serious. A haze of red clouds my vision and I know that one of us will die before the day is through. My dragon has fallen silent in his rage, and I know the moment he tries to break free, I won’t hold him back this time.
“What? You think I’ve lived in this house for years with that teenage pussy strutting around here, barely dressed, and I never took what was offered?”
I snap. I circle my hands around his neck and slam him against the entryway wall, sending plaster falling to the floor. I didn’t even realize I was in front of him.
“You touched her?” I ask between gritted teeth, my dragon already halfway into the shift, my anger allowing him to step forward as rage overtakes any logical thought.
He laughs, even as his face changes color. “I did more than touch. I fucked the cherry right out of her,” he boasts. He doesn’t struggle or try to stop me. His arrogance and the fact that he doesn’t believe I will harm him, keeping him calm in the face of my rage. He doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does. “And if you were a real man—”
The words die on his lips. My fist in the center of his face silences him as blood spurts everywhere. I can’t make myself stop and soon enough I am kneeling over his prone body. I’m not sure if he is alive or dead but I can honestly say I don’t care. He was a fucking monster, and I left her alone with him. How did I not know? What else did he do to her? Dark thoughts swirl in my mind as I stare down at his prone body.
My dragon recedes, allowing me control. His lust for vengeance has been temporarily sated and he is back to worrying about Lyrik. A situation I will be remedying as soon as I can.
“Dante!” I call out loudly, knowing the man is still somewhere in the house.
A moment later he descends the stairs, his gaze glued to my father’s form. He raises a brow in question but doesn’t speak. He was my father’s second-in-command. I guess he is mine now.
“Is he dead?” Dante asks with a raised brow.
“I don’t care either way. You wanted him gone,” I say without a speck of remorse. “I’m the head of this family now.”
“Good. I will tell the men. Some may want to protest but for the most part they will be happy with this new direction,” Dante replies.
“If he lives, make sure he isn’t here when I get back. Any men that wish to leave should also do so before I return.”
He has always been loyal to the Black family, and I know he will serve me well in the future. I didn’t want this life, but this is how I will be able to protect the woman I love from being hurt any more. I move toward the stairs while speaking.
“Where are you going?” Dante asks.
“I need to find Lyrik. If I am going to lead this family into the future, I’m going to do it with her by my side.”
“About damn time,” he replies, his phone against his face, already doing what I have decreed.
“Meaning?”
“That girl belongs here. With you.”
Heading toward the room I have been using, I toss the few things I unpacked into my bag before slinging it over my shoulder. The woman I love is on this godforsaken snow-covered mountain, and I need to find her before it’s too late. I’m in charge of my own destiny now.