Chapter Twenty-Three
Kat’s voice was gentle when she spoke again, but the words themselves carried weight, measured, deliberate, unavoidable.
“The boys informed me that someone wiped your details from our system,” she said.
“And before you say anything...no, we weren’t keeping tabs on you.
” She lifted a brow, as if anticipating Anabelle’s reaction.
“It’s the same governmental framework humans use.
Ours is just… more comprehensive. Layered.
The problem is, your file and your brother’s are practically empty. ”
She paused, letting that sink in.
“That usually means one thing,” Kat continued quietly. “Your supernatural parent deliberately hid you. They didn’t want you discovered.”
Anabelle stared at her.
For a second, the room blurred, not from tears, but from sheer overload. She dragged a hand down her face, fingers pressing hard against her eyes.
“What a fucking day,” she muttered hoarsely.
She turned away from Kat and crossed the room on unsteady legs, sinking onto the massive couch where Joshua, Cameron, Dominik, and Rian were seated.
It was big enough for eight, yet suddenly felt far too small.
She sat forward, elbows on her knees, facing Kat again like she needed the physical grounding of the cushions beneath her.
“I…” Her voice failed her, and she huffed out a breath. “I don’t know which one it could’ve been.” She shook her head slowly. “I’ve never met my father. I don’t know his name. I don’t know where he is, or if he’s even alive.”
Her gaze dropped to her hands twisting together in her lap.
“My mom…” Her throat closed.
She lifted her head, eyes landing briefly on Joshua. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “For snapping at you. I don’t deal well with...” She swallowed hard, then straightened, like she was bracing herself for impact. Her eyes slid past Kat to the wall behind her, unfocused.
“My mom had an accident last year.”
The air in the room shifted. Every breath hitched, four males, and one queen, frozen in place.
“It took everything I had,” Anabelle continued, voice cracking but determined to get the words out, “to cope with that. I shoved it all down, everything I felt, because Emmett needed me.” Her lips trembled.
“I had to sell everything. The house. The furniture. All of it.” She looked back at Kat, eyes shining.
“It took everything to pay for her funeral…just so Emmett could say goodbye properly.”
Her breath stuttered.
“I don’t...” Her voice broke completely. “I can’t...”
A hand began rubbing slow, grounding circles between her shoulder blades. She didn’t look to see whose it was. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Kat.
“I don’t want to know,” Anabelle said desperately. “If she lied to me. If she was a supernatural. If everything I thought was true, believed in. Everything I held on to, if...if...none of it was real. Honest.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t survive that.”
Kat didn’t hesitate. She crossed the space between them and lowered herself to her knees directly in front of Anabelle.
The movement shocked the room. The four males tensed instantly, instinct roaring to life. The High Queen did not kneel. Ever. And yet here she was, eye-level with Anabelle, hands gentle, presence steady.
Kat’s voice was soft. Warm. Certain. “Ani,” she said tenderly, “sweetie, look at me.”
Anabelle’s chin trembled as she did.
“Your mother didn’t lie to you.”
The sob tore out of her before she could stop it. “How would you know?” Anabelle whispered brokenly.
Kat didn’t rush her answer. She spoke slowly, carefully, as if placing each word exactly where it needed to be.
“Because, baby girl,” she said quietly, “if your mother had been a supernatural, no accident in this world would have kept her from coming back to you.”
A beat then, Kat explained further. “Dragons, Demons and Shifters have healing abilities, normal accidents wouldn’t even phase them.
An Angel would have took off to the sky in search of a healer, and Fae would have had healing potions with them long enough to get them more help.
Supernaturals are extremely resilient Ani... I don’t think your mom was one.”
The truth hit like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “Oh god,” Anabelle breathed.
She surged forward without thinking, wrapping Kat in a fierce, desperate hug. She clutched her so tightly it bordered on painful, but Kat didn’t flinch. She held her back just as firmly, anchoring her.
Relief poured through Anabelle’s bones, warm and overwhelming, like being told the ground beneath her feet would never disappear. Like being promised that the one thing she couldn’t bear to lose, her mother’s truth, had never been taken from her at all.
When they finally pulled apart, Anabelle scrubbed at her face and let out a shaky laugh. “God,” she said breathlessly, “thank you.”
Kat’s smile lingered for a moment longer, soft, reassuring, before it slowly narrowed, the warmth giving way to something more careful. More serious. It was the look of someone who had already walked this road and knew what came next.
“Okay,” Kat said gently. “So. It’s safe to say your father was from one of the factions.” She paused, eyes searching Anabelle’s face. “But, Ani… I don’t think he’s the one who erased your file.”
Anabelle’s brows drew together. Her pulse ticked louder in her ears.
“Why… why would you say that?” she asked.
Kat exhaled slowly. “Because it doesn’t make sense.
None of it does.” She folded her hands together, grounding herself before continuing.
“Supernaturals are… different. They’re fiercely protective of their children.
A child isn’t a burden to them the way humans sometimes fear it might be, it’s everything.
Purpose. Love. Continuity. Legacy.” Her voice softened.
“He wouldn’t have left you. Not willingly. No matter what you’ve told yourself.”
Anabelle swallowed hard.
“And because…” Kat hesitated, then continued, “Emmett’s file is empty too. And since you don’t share the same father...why would your father wipe his records as well?”
Silence slammed into the room.
Anabelle didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Her mind locked, then splintered.
Beside her, the four males went rigid. They understood instantly what Kat was implying. Every one of them felt the shift ripple through the bond, sharp, fragile, dangerous. Their instincts screamed to shield her, to block the truth before it cut too deep.
Gods above, they would do anything, anything, to keep her from feeling the kind of grief they already felt stirring inside her.
Anabelle finally spoke, her voice eerily calm. “You think my mom never told my father,” she said slowly, “that he had a child?” Her throat tightened. “You think she might’ve known he was a supernatural… and tried to hide Emmett and me from you all?”
Kat didn’t look away. Her expression was full of compassion, but unwavering.
“That’s exactly what I think,” she said quietly. “And I think we need to find him. A blood locator spell.” She leaned forward slightly. “He deserves to know, Ani. Supernatural family law mandates it, both parents must be made aware of any offspring. It isn’t fair that he doesn’t know.”
Anabelle stiffened. The idea hit her like a physical blow.
She had never, never, imagined searching for him.
Hadn’t wanted to. Not the man she believed had abandoned her mother.
Abandoned her. At least Emmett’s father had the mercy of being dead.
With her own, at most she gave him the same excuse.
Anything to attempt to dull the ache of disappointment, that never quite went away.
And now she was being told she had to find him. Face him. Talk to him.
Couldn’t this day just be over?
Exhaustion tore through her, deep and bone-heavy. She sagged further into the couch, only then realizing a hand was still rubbing slow, grounding circles against her back. The touch, warm, steady, felt suddenly too intimate.
She lurched forward.
“Sorry,” she muttered quickly, standing up. She didn’t look back. Couldn’t. Instead, she began to pace the length of the room, arms wrapped tightly around herself, trying to outrun the truth curling in her chest.
“Okay… okay… fine.” Anabelle threw her hands up in the air, frustration finally boiling over. She spun back toward Kat, eyes bright and a little wild. “Fine. If I don’t have any other choice, what do you want me to do?”
Kat’s expression softened immediately, that steady calm settling over her features like a balm. “It’s quite harmless,” she said gently. “Just a small prick on your finger. One drop of blood will be enough to locate the signature that sired yours.”
The words had barely left her mouth when deep, feral sounds rolled through the room. Four growls. Violent. Protective.
Anabelle startled so hard she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she whipped around. “What the hell was that?” she demanded, breath uneven.
Kat laughed, actually laughed, warm and amused. “Looks like they’re feeling a little protective.”
Anabelle stared at her, incredulous. “Over a drop of blood?”
She didn’t get an answer.
Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs, fast, furious, and unmistakably not human.
The air thickened, shadows stretching unnaturally along the walls as a massive demon appeared at the top of the steps.
He was the biggest being Anabelle had ever seen, horns curling high and sharp, darkness clinging to him like a living thing.
He crossed the room in a heartbeat. Kat barely had time to inhale before he shoved her behind him, one enormous arm blocking her from view. His growl shook the floor, eyes pitch-black, void-deep, pure rage radiating from him.
Anabelle didn’t think. She reacted. A sharp squeal tore from her throat as she spun and bolted, straight into Dominik. She landed in his lap, arms wrapping tightly around his torso, face buried in the crook of his neck like it was the only safe place left in the world.