Chapter 22 #2
Before I can knock or kick the door in, the door swings open and a woman around forty years old looks around it. Her eyes wide at the sight of Eliane and she tries to close the door as fast as she swung it open.
She tried to close the door at the sight of her daughter.
Her daughter.
Her own blood and flesh.
My hand pushes at the right top corner of the door, reacting on impulse, forcing the woman to keep the door open.
“How dare you!” I yell at her, not able to control my voice.
My power rushes through me and despite the fact my body felt tired before, my magic sucks the adrenaline up like wine.
The door swings open and the woman steps back.
I march inside strolling towards her. “How dare you abandon your daughter. How dare you close the door at the sight of her. After the courage she grabbed together to come here. After everything you did,” I spit the words out in her face, hoping they stab.
She doesn’t react.
The woman has icy blonde hair like Gwen, she looks more like Gwen than Eliane, at least for personality.
Not fighting for what you want— for what you need.
A man appears inside, coming from what I assume the bedroom is.
I can feel Eliane her warmth facing my back, but I know she is not inside.
The man, who I assume is her biological father, eyes wide and his jaw falls open.
I stamp towards him. “And you! What kind of man you are, not fighting for the one thing you and your wife have. The one and only thing you should care for with your life,” I erupt.
I point my finger at him, fighting the urge to wrap my hand around his throat.
He takes a step back, his words slipping out quietly as he regains his composure.
“Let’s talk this out, shall we?!”
Sweat from anger stings my eyes and makes my skin feel sticky.
I lunge forward, my hands wrapping around his neck.
The veins in his head bulge, the one in his forehead is starting to pulse.
I study his face, trying to think of what I should do with him next.
It hurts looking at him. Eliane’s presence increases, and her shadow comes next to me.
She holds a dagger in the air as she aims forwards.
“It is a little late for that, don’t you think, Kyan?
” She holds her chin high as the words leave her mouth.
This isn’t my battle. I let go of the man.
He brushes his hand across the red mark I left behind on him.
I spin looking at Eliane as she strolls forwards.
She is strong and looks unbreakable. A mask, I assume—a very good one.
She must have learned from the best. I smirk at the thought, but let it wash off my face fast as I see hurt flashing in her eyes.
“Not even a chart for my birthday. Not letting me know I had a sister. Never letting me hear anything from you. I can name the things my dad did for me, you know. He fought for me—loved me. I wanted your love so badly, begged for it, but as I stand here, you are nothing more than strangers. You might have been good parents to Hazel, but you are nothing to me.” The words leave her mouth strong, but I feel her rage—heartbroken rage.
The lights flicker brightly as Eliane moves towards her mother.
Now that I look better, I can see that despite the blonde hair they kind of have the same nose.
She crunches her button nose the same way Eliane does.
“Let me handle this. You don’t have to,” I tell her. She turns to me, eyes narrowing.
“I appreciate your offer, but I can fight my own battles. I should fight my own battles,” she repeats the words like she is trying to tell herself that instead of me.
I already knew that. She can do it, but something inside me snaps.
Her mother opens her mouth but bites her tongue as I give her a look.
“Eliane, Honey,” Kyan breathes out. Eliane steps towards him, dagger forwards, ready to slash.
“Nobody but Braxton or Dad can say those words. You haven’t earned the honor of my nickname rolling off your tongue,” she voices, emphasis on the word ‘Dad,’ hurt flashing by in Kyan eyes.
It is how she speaks the word ‘Honey.’ It leaves me questioning if there is more behind that name.
The name I called her since the first day I saw her.
It is the flip her stomach does every time that name rolls over my own lips.
It is the way she bites the word at them. Almost snarling.
Eliane’s voice sounds kind of bitchy, but I like it.
Damn.
“Now, tell me where I can find Hazel’s room.”
Her parents exchange looks and speak in silence, something we can’t understand.
“Honey,” her mother starts, stepping closer. Eliane speaks up immediately.
“Don’t,” she sputters. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps. Her mother looks down.
“Sorry, Eliane I mean.” She looks down at the ground like the words can’t leave her throat. Kyan walks towards the woman and gives her hand a comforting squeeze, encouraging her to speak up.
“Eliane, Hazel died three years ago.”