Chapter 42 That Kind of Woman #2
I walked away from the window and my gaping parents and moved to stand in front of my brothers again, brimming with happy pride.
“I know how this looks to someone like you, Father. But I can tell you, there’s no way I came to be here without the hand of God.
These men are good men. They’re strong, powerful, honorable… I know they look frightening—”
From the corner of my eye I saw Gil, right next to me, smile wickedly and I had to swallow back a laugh because my father paled.
“—but they are my friends, and brothers and… they love me. They teach me and protect me. All of them. And not—not the way you’re thinking,” I said sharply as my father opened his mouth. “They are reliable and patient, and I wouldn’t be here without them.”
“Here?” my father asked, incredulous. “Where is here?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m a Furyknight, Father. I passed the trials a few weeks ago. I’ve already—”
“Bullshit.”
Something in me sank as my father’s bewilderment was replaced with outright anger.
“I am no fool,” he said, addressing my brothers and Donavyn, ignoring me completely. “You may have deceived her into believing your motives are pure. But we’re all men, and I know what’s going on here.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to curse at him for sullying the wonderful things these men had done for me. I wanted to weep because he made it all sound so sordid. And I wanted to blame God, because I knew his response was exactly what most people would think if they knew my story.
“No,” I said, trying to make the words strong. “You’re wrong.”
My mother inhaled sharply and grasped my father’s shoulder, but he shook her off.
Then he looked at me, and leveled a finger at me. “No man with honor would take a woman like you to his home and—”
I felt the moment Donavyn surged forward, felt the roar of anger in the bond, and put a hand back—but I should have known I didn’t need to. Ronen and Oros had placed themselves either side of him, and the moment he moved, they grabbed his arms to keep him from moving.
‘Let me handle it,’ I sent, and even though I was shaky, I was also, suddenly, very sure.
I glanced at the window again, knowing Akhane and Kgosi were out there—but instead, from this distance the light in the room turned the windows into mirrors, and for a moment I saw her.
Me.
The old me.
The worthless, fearful, gullible girl who was so devastated by the rejection of her lover, she’d thought she wanted to die.
‘Little Flame…’ Akhane breathed sorrowfully in my head.
‘It’s okay. I’m not her anymore,’ I told her. And I raised my chin, and turned on my father.
“The only dark heart here, is yours,” I said hoarsely.
My voice wasn’t strong enough, so I cleared my throat and pushed on.
“These men have done nothing but help me rebuild the mess that I was when I arrived here. The dragons saved me, and these men helped me heal. All of them. They care for me as a sister and a partner. They stand at my back. They believe in me.”
“They believe in what they want from you,” my father hissed.
“No, Papa. You’re the one who said you loved me, who gave me life—then was shamed by me. You’re the one who told me there was nothing about me that would ever be valued by a man again. You were wrong. You can either accept that, or you can leave. Right now.”
I felt all of them crowd closer behind me and prayed that Ronen and Oros were keeping their hands on Donavyn.
I could feel him churning in the bond, quivering to beat my father senseless.
And though I loved him for his fierce desire to protect me.
I couldn’t bear the thought of him being disciplined for beating a citizen.
As my father gaped and spluttered. I turned to my mother. “Why are you here?”
My mother was on the verge of tears. “I was worried for you. And so was your father. We received the letter, but we were certain it was a lie. Is it really true, Bren?”
I nodded. “I don’t know anything about a letter, but it’s really true. I’m a Furyknight.”
“If they’re using you, you don’t have to lie for them,” my father said quietly, and surprisingly gently.
I blinked. “What?”
“I know… I know what I said… I know it hurt you. I was angry. But you’re my daughter,” he said stiffly. “If you’re here… if you’re subjected to attentions because you’re afraid to come home, you don’t need to stay.”
No. No.
I stared at him. “You really can’t see it, can you?”
“Can’t see what?”
“You can’t see me as anything more than some vessel for a man.” Which was precisely why I fought to see myself as any other than that, I realized.
My father stammered again and finally, finally my anger rose. I sneered at him. “These men do the opposite of seeing me as a vessel for themselves. Instead, they pour themselves into my life—teaching me, helping me grow. They give. They’ve done nothing but help me.”
“Why would they do that for no return?” my father spat.
“Because I was Chosen!” I snapped back. “When the dragons choose one of us, we all recognize their value. All of us. And they all saw that in me. Most importantly, they were the only ones who did.”
My father frowned, his face sour. “You continue to believe things from the mouths of men. I told you, men will often say things they don’t mean in order to get you—”
“No, Papa,” I said finally, wearily. “I was Chosen. And they respect that. They respect me.”
“They wouldn’t if they knew,” he said darkly, throwing the words like a slap at my face.