Chapter 20
“Father-in-law?” Jasper said, pushing to his feet. “Goddess? What the hell are you talking about? Who are you? What is going on?”
The man stepped up beside Castor, his chin held high. How I had failed to recognize their relation from the first moment I saw him was a mystery. Seeing the two of them side-by-side was jarring, the resemblance uncanny. He and Calia shared the same slight uptick of their nose, those forest green eyes that reminded me of the isle in the summer. Both had a natural pout to their lips, their cupid’s bows defined as though they had been chiseled.
“It has been imperative to keep my presence unknown, for if anyone knew the son of Niandra lived… Well, you can see it could have catastrophic consequences,” he drawled, laying a hand atop the leather-backed armchair.
Sloane still stared in wide-eyed shock, flitting between the man and Calia. Her pale skin, if possible, had been further leached of color save for a faint flush across her cheeks. “Niandra is the goddess of magic, the mother of witchcraft. She is the protector of the moon, the watcher of the sun.” Her hands trembled as she clasped them atop her lap. “Which means you are… a god.”
Elios dipped his head, smiling at Sloane, who sunk back into the deep cushions of the couch. “Indeed I am, witchling. Elios, to be precise. But please, you may call me Lio.”
“The gods haven’t shown themselves in millennia,” Jasper said, scoffing. Do you think we’re truly that foolish?”
Elios’ smile tightened, but he did not balk at Jasper’s disbelief. I assumed he was used to anyone who doubted his story. However, a preternatural aura surrounded him—something not of this world, woven of many magics and centuries of power—which gave away his true nature if one studied long enough.
“I think you would be foolish if you did not listen to my tale. For I will tell you what you want to know, but you must choose what to do with that information,” he said, fixing his uncanny gaze on me. “Are you willing to listen? Or would you prefer for us to leave?”
I closed my eyes and braced for impact as Jasper”s little restraint began fraying around the edges. From his teasing comments only moments ago, I was not sure what the final straw had been for him, but shadows darkened his features.
Jasper scoffed, looking between Calia and the man who claimed to be a god and her father. “Are those our only options? Listen to whatever bullshit you have prepared, or you’ll leave us to our own devices?” He took a step closer, putting our guests on alert. While Castor reached for whatever weapon he had concealed, Elios did not. He simply stared, assessing every move as though he could discern our thoughts.
Perhaps he could. I had never met a god before.
“Jasper,” Calia began, turning to face him. Though her feelings toward me were yet to be untangled, her crestfallen expression showed she held no reservations as far as Jasper was concerned. “Please, just listen?—”
“No,” he said, turning a deadly glare toward her. My blood ran cold as she shrunk in on herself under his ire. “You waltz in here after days of us mourning your loss—thinking you are rotting in a fucking grave six feet under the ground—and believe everything can be as it was? Do you know the guilt he has been facing? How many times I’ve had to pick him up off the floor because his grief was insurmountable?”
Jasper pointed in my direction, drawing the attention of every person in the room. I averted my gaze, calling my friend”s name softly. “Jasper now is not the time?—”
He turned his ire on me. “I think now is the perfect time. It’s all too easy for her to point the fingers and blame you for keeping secrets, but what about her? What about the knowledge she has kept from you? Should she not be held accountable?”
I noticed Calia’s wilted posture from the corner of my eye. She would take his verbal lashing without interruption because that was how she was raised. Lucius, the man who raised her, never spoke with comfort, only malice. I had witnessed his callous nature toward her firsthand, so had Jasper, and his actions at her funeral further proved he had never truly cared about her.
But I would not allow her to feel like that again. Not in our house.
Regardless of the complicated nature of our relationship, and even if she chose to never see me again once my mother was apprehended and our business was concluded, I would always guard her. It would drive her mad, especially since she did not need me to do so, I knew that, but my protective instincts could not be overridden—not when it came to her.
I rose from my chair, wrapping my hand around Jasper’s throat and pushing him back onto the couch. My teeth were bared, fangs elongated, as I leaned toward his face. It would not take any effort to sink them into his flesh and rip out his throat. “You do not get to take your anger out on her. You do not get to make her feel small simply because you want answers to your questions,” I growled.
“Don’t you want those answers, too?” he shot back, struggling against my hold. Rowena and Sloane had stepped away, realizing the danger filling the space as he and I wrestled for dominance.
“Of course I do!” I snarled. “More than anything, but you will not talk to my fucking wife like that. Not here. Not ever. Are we clear, brother?”
His eyes were filled with fury, and the erratic rhythm of his pulse thrummed under my fingers. I refused to break our stalemate, letting him see that no matter who he was to me, she was my purpose for being. Nothing could compete with that.
“Are. We. Clear?”
He shifted under my hold, and for a moment, it seemed he was preparing to fight, but I felt the tension between us dissipate. “Fine,” he gritted out, relaxing his posture a touch.
I stood back, releasing my hold and waiting for the words he knew he should utter. Despite his acquiescence, they never came. “Apologize,” I hissed, my eyes never leaving his. “Now.”
His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath before turning toward my wife. “I’m sorry, Calia. I let my anger get the best of me, and it was unfair to turn that on you.”
I had not noticed the hand she placed over her chest or the tear that slid down her cheek. “It’s okay, really. That wasn’t necessary.”
“It was,” I said, returning to my seat. “You will not be disrespected in this house, ever.”
She dipped her head. Whether in gratitude or embarrassment, I did not know. Our bond was silent. No matter how gently I attempted to coax her mind to let me in, her barriers were up. No cracks to be found.
On the other hand, Jaspers was blaring questions, insults, and vague threats at full volume, knowing how difficult it was to shut him out. Somehow, even with his mouth shut, he managed to make his unwanted opinions abundantly clear.
“Now that I have your attention,” Elios said, drawing us back. “I take it you are willing to listen to what I have to say?”