Chapter 17
Max stared.
… Son?
Of course, he understood what the man before him was saying. His stomach turned over inside him. It would be pretty hard not to know the meaning of that word. But....
But can I trust him?
He’d just had an encounter with a fae who’d kidnapped him, tricked his mate, and tried to steal his powers, without a care if he and Poppy had died as a result of his crazed scheme.
In his mind, fae were, at this moment, emphatically not to be trusted.
And he certainly wouldn’t put it past one to pretend to be his father for as long as it took to make him drop his guard, and then try to steal whatever powers it thought he had.
Max still wasn’t quite clear himself what those were, except that they had helped him completely incapacitate the fae who had kidnapped him and who had lured Poppy to the shack.
A snarl tried to force itself over his lips – the first time that had ever happened that Max could remember. But then he heard a growling within him at this new possible threat, and he knew it was his new shifter form, trying to come to the surface once more to protect his mate.
His mother had been right – shifter forms really were hard to control. He could see why she’d said he’d need her help if he ever did learn how to shift.
But just as his manticore tried to force its way to the forefront of his consciousness as Max battled with it to maintain control over his own body, he felt it hesitate.
Is this… our father?
Max blinked.
He’d been four when his father had left. His memories of him were nothing but vague, half-formed things, just an impression of laughter as a man had swung him up into his arms, of warmth and care. Until it had all disappeared from his life, suddenly, and, at the time, inexplicably.
But it seemed that his manticore remembered, even if he didn’t.
Is this man my father?
Swallowing, Max forced himself to take a few steps toward the man where he stood amongst the trees, his knees wobbling.
He couldn’t remember his father’s face very well, but there was something familiar about the man who stood before him now.
His father had been tall – that he recalled.
And he’d had dark hair. But still, tall and dark-haired could describe any number of men, some of whom were watching him staggering through the snow now and were definitely not his father.
The way the man looked wouldn’t help him now – Max knew that somehow, he’d have to be able to tell what the truth was by instinct alone.
And if I can’t, I’ll have to deal with this new threat to my mate the same way I dealt with the other one, he thought grimly, as little as he liked the thought.
The power that had flowed through him at that time had felt amazing while it had been happening, of course – but now that it was over, Max found himself a little frightened of it.
What would he have done if Poppy hadn’t been there to stop him from going too far?
But as it turned out, there was no need for him to test his limits a second time – as he got close to the man, he was suddenly overwhelmed by a wash of memories. Almost as if some locked box inside his mind had been suddenly thrown open, sending its contents billowing out into his consciousness.
His father helping him blow out the candles on his third birthday cake.
His father holding his hand as they’d wandered over a hillside at night, pointing out the various constellations to him as they spread out over the darkened sky.
His father waking him up with a cup of warm cocoa on a cold winter morning.
His father brushing Max’s hair – long at the time, because he’d suddenly decided he was frightened of getting it cut, and his father hadn’t wanted to force him – as Max had watched his face in the mirror, his hazel eyes sparkling, a ring of brown around a center of unusually light green –
– Hazel eyes with light green in the middle. Just like the man in front of me has.
True, the fae he’d left unconscious in the cabin also had strangely light green eyes, albeit without the brown at the edges.
But they had been cold, empty, terrifying to look into.
Not like this man’s at all – his father’s eyes were full of warmth, love…
but also, Max could see as he drew closer, fear and trepidation.
As if he’s worried I may not recognize him.
Well, he could understand that – Max had given no indication that he did recognize him. He’d just snarled at him and then stalked toward him with his shoulders bunched, clearly struggling to keep his newfound inner animal in check.
“Do you recognize me, Max?” His father’s voice wavered as he spoke. “You were so young when I left…”
Max frowned. Yes, he’d been young. And every memory he had of his father had been so filled with love and happiness.
So why did he leave us?
Confusion burst through his chest. Of course, he was happy to see his father again.
He wanted nothing more than to run to him now, just as he had done when he was a child, and throw his arms around him – even though now they were more or less the same height, and Max wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t bowl his father over.
But at the same time, none of those memories and his wishes to see his father again changed the fact that he’d abandoned them without a word of explanation.
Max was sure his mother would have told him if his father had given her a reason for his departure.
But she was as mystified as he was. The only thing to say he’d ever cared about them at all was all the money he’d left them.
Of course, the fae in the cabin had given him a partial explanation of his family circumstances – that his father had hidden him in the human realm to keep him safe – but it didn’t explain why his father hadn’t stayed with Max. With his family.
“Dad?” Max heard his own voice say weakly. “It really is you, isn’t it?”
Relief, and then a new kind of fear flooded over his father’s face. “It is, Max. It’s me. You have no idea… no idea how much I’ve missed you…”
“Then why didn’t you ever come back?” The words burst out of Max’s mouth before he could stop them.
But wasn’t he owed an explanation after all this time?
And, in amongst all the other thoughts whirling in his head, there was one that stood out amongst them.
“And why didn’t you ever tell Mom you were a fae? ”
His father grimaced. “I – I wanted to, but I –”
“Max.”
Max whipped around at the sound of Poppy’s soft voice by his side. He’d been so focused on his father that he hadn’t even heard her approach. She put her hand on his arm, looking up into his eyes.
“Why don’t we sit down in the cabin to have this conversation?”
A few minutes later, Poppy, Max, and his father were seated inside the cabin – Margot had cast a spell on the whole room so it was toasty warm, before she’d retreated back outside with the others.
This kind of sounds like a personal conversation, she’d said, in the first display of social grace or tact he’d seen her make since he’d met her. I can just cast a spell of warming around us and we can wait outside while you talk. Plus, I brought snacks! So we won’t be hungry. Take your time.
Max had to admit he was relieved. He didn’t think he needed to have this reunion with his father in front of other people, except, of course, for Poppy.
Now that his initial shock had worn off, Max had to admit, the dominant emotion swirling inside him was anger. The anger was confused with joy – but before he gave in to that, he really wanted his father to give him an explanation.
He searched the face of the man in front of him.
It was a strong face, with a sharp jawline covered by a dark, neatly trimmed beard – just as Max remembered it, now that, for whatever reason, stronger memories of his father had been unlocked in his mind.
Maybe it had something to do with him gaining the power to shift. Or finding out that he was half fae.
Okay, maybe that’s the best place to start.
“You’re fae?” he asked, not sure how else to open the conversation.
His father nodded. “I am.”
“So… does that have something to do with why you abandoned me and Mom?” Max demanded, when it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything further, and watched as a pained expression skittered across his father’s face.
“The situation is… complicated,” his father said, before he shook his head. “No. I won’t try to make excuses for myself. I was weak. That was the real problem. I didn’t have the courage to stand up for myself, for what I wanted. For my family. But when they threatened to hurt you…”
“Wait. Who’s threatening to hurt Max?” Poppy jumped in, her voice harsh and demanding. “Is he in any danger?”
“No.” His father shook his head emphatically, before glancing over his shoulder to where the body of the unconscious fae who’d attacked them lay in the corner of the room.
“Well. Not now, anyway. But perhaps it’s better if I just start from the beginning, if you’ll indulge me telling you a rather long story. ”
Max raised an eyebrow. “Please do. I’d love to know… well, everything, actually.”
“Yes. The truth is the least I can give you after all this time,” his father said resolutely.
“As you know, fae don’t exactly have the best reputation amongst other magical creatures – we keep to ourselves, and we prefer it that way.
So not many outsiders know about our ways or beliefs.
” He sighed. “And one of those beliefs is the superiority of fae over all other beings. To most fae, humans, shifters, witches, wizards… they’re all thought of as little more than playthings.
Something to keep us amused when we’re bored. ”
Anger simmered low in Max’s stomach. Nothing his father said seemed to connect to the loving memories he had of him, but it certainly wasn’t endearing him – or any other fae – to Max either.