Blood Legacy (Rewritten)

42. The ugly truth

"So you do know each other. Pretty well, I'd dare say," I started with an inquisitive look between them both, watching my father's features remain impassive as he stared at me whilst Nathan stood a few steps away from us, pensively staring at the floor.

"Is it true?" I found the courage to ask after a moment of silence, finding my father's gaze.

His brows furrowed with evident confusion after my rather cryptic question, so I quickly added,
"That you gave me to him?"

That guilty expression marring his features as soon as I uttered those words was enough of an answer, my throat hurting from those tears that threatened to spill as I hoarsely said,

"Why?"

"It's not that simple," He calmly answered, that simple answer however managing to invoke a bout of rage within me, failing to contain myself as I angrily pressed back,

"Why? Why is it not that simple? Why do you keep saying that? What could possibly be so important, to make you resort to such archaic vows or promises or whatever? To have your own daughter, thrust into the hands -or should I say claws- of some dangerous and crazy supernatural being?"
I tried not to take notice of the way Nathan flinched at the sound of my harsh words, forcing myself to remain focused on my father as I desperately cried out,

"Tell me!"

I was so tired of this shit. I just wanted to know.

"Because you were made for him," He quickly blabbered out, earning himself a bewildered look from me.

What?

"You were born for him. Well, not for him, specifically but for the next heir in line to the throne," He explained with uneasiness, making me feel even more shocked and outraged than before.

"She was born for me. She is my soulmate," Nathan quickly interjected with tangible vexation at the sound of my father's choice of words, earning himself a scowl from him.

"You shut up," He swiftly bit back at him with a pointed look, making him bristle as he peered between the two of us, but thankfully didn't continue arguing.

Blowing out a tired sigh, my father lowered himself into a crouching position so that he could be at the same eye-level with me, resting his elbows over his knees as he started to explain,

"Carina, we're...You, and me and your sister, we're not humans either. We share an ancient bloodline, the shaman bloodline. Our veins are filled with magic,"

I looked at him for a moment, peering between his eyes before I suddenly started laughing, apparently taking them both by surprise as they gave me weird looks.

"Yeah, okay," I snorted,
"You almost got me with this one,"

I let out another laugh, abruptly stopping upon noticing that irritated look on my father's face. But before I could say or do anything else he suddenly took a firm hold of my arm, his weirdly glowing eyes being the last thing I saw before my head tilted back on its own volition, plunging deep into a whirlpool of images and memories that weren't even mine.

I could see two little girls, both so small and chubby as they played in a garden filled with flowers, their round little faces illuminated by joy and laughter as they chased each other...

Faster than I could blink, I suddenly found myself sifting through another memory, looking at a small boy with inky black hair and vivid green eyes, his gaze so lost and sad as he looked at the large and black wooden box lying before him, muddled chants slithering in my ears as that wooden box slowly lowered into the ground...

I startled as my gaze suddenly landed on the dark soil beneath my bare feet, my ears filling with a different set of chants and whispers as I looked at the simple white dress covering my body, hearing someone call my name before my eyes met a pair of glowing golden ones, their intensity robbing the breath out of me, feeling the sting of something slicing at the skin on my palm before I found myself falling back into that dark abyss...

I loudly gasped as I was rather roughly pulled back into reality, so violently shook as I stared back at the one that had created me, wide-eyed.

What the fuck!

My wild gaze shifted from him to Nathan, everything suddenly clicking into place as I remembered all about those other two times something like this happened, somehow realizing that what I've seen, those weird visions were all actually me. My doing. Not his.

I abruptly shot up from my spot and ran all the way to the small bathroom down the hall as bile rose within my throat with no warning beforehand, throwing myself on my knees as I cupped the toilet bowl and emptied out my stomach, pushing back out that orange juice I'd gulped down earlier.

I retched for a while, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes as it felt like I was emptying my soul out, barely hearing those approaching footsteps as I lastly fell back on my butt, breaking down into a sobbing mess.

I didn't exactly know why I was crying. I just felt like doing it. For my pained heart, the loss of my own identity, maybe.

I continued to let those tears run free as I eventually felt the oddly comforting sensation of someone wrapping their warm and powerful body around my own from behind, carefully cradling me between their muscled arms as I wept my heart out, feeling that familiar and alluring scent with every sniffle.

I knew what I said, knew what I'd done to him. Those cold and callous words I've spewed at him.
Yet for some reason, there he was, hugging and comforting me as if nothing happened, as if this morning never even existed. And in that moment, in that specific moment I couldn't be more grateful for his presence. For those arms wrapped around me, that powerful and steady beat of his heart caressing my back with every thump, reminding me that he was there. He was there for me.