Fated for the Alphas: The Complete Collection (Nine Book Paranormal Romance Box Set) (41 page)

“Lia, don’t you know who she is?” Kane said.

Della groaned. “Not yet. It’s not over, Kane.”

“She needs to know.”

Lia blinked. Had Ronan’s finger twitched? She didn’t see any other movement. Gazing at him, she willed the blood magic to work.

“Fine,” Della wheezed, “you tell her.”

Lia sat up. “Tell me what?”

Kane pierced her with his gaze. “She’s your mother, Lia.”

And then there was only her and Della. Della, the woman who had her life’s blood streaming from her neck.

“Is it true?”

Della nodded.

But Lia already knew it was true. She just wished it wasn’t, wished she wasn’t finding her mother after waiting all her life only to lose her immediately. Her heart, still cold from the blood magic, felt like it was shattering into a thousand crystal shards. Why couldn’t she have found out at any moment other than this? She couldn’t kill her mother. She wouldn’t.

“Don’t go.” Her tears flowed as freely as the blood around them. “Don’t leave me.” Lia reached out toward Della’s neck. “I can reverse it. I can close the wound.”

Della took her hand. Her grip was very weak. “You made a promise to the dark god. You can’t take back such a promise so easily.”

Behind her, Lia heard a cough. It wasn’t Kane, but Ronan. He had started to feebly stir.

Della smiled. “It’s too late for me. Not for Ronan, though. Not for you, or Kane. You’ll be fine.”

That was a lie. How could Lia ever be fine again? It was her mother, here at last. The woman whose voice she sometimes dreamed about, though she could never remember the sound of it when she woke. The woman in the one memory she had without the witches, her back to Lia, dark hair swaying, singing in a circle of candles. The woman she used to fantasize would take her from the coven, to sing with her, dance with her, love her.

She was here, and she was almost gone.

“I’m so proud of you,” Della whispered. “And I’m so sorry. I wish—I wish I could have done better. But I have always loved you.”

“Don’t go,” Lia pleaded. “We can fix this. I can fix this.”

Ronan sat up with a groan, holding his head in his hands.

“It’s too late.” Slowly, Della rose enough to kiss Lia on the forehead. It seemed to take all her strength. She lay back, looking wilted. “Thank you, chickpea. Look after my boys for me. You’ll do wonders.”

Then she was gone.

“No,” Lia cried. “Della, no!”

But the last of her blood had left her veins. The wound at her neck knitted closed. Unmoving on the stone, she almost looked like she was sleeping.

Below, the pack had shifted into wolves. A howl went up among them, rising and echoing in the cavernous den, a tribute to Della’s sacrifice.

“My head,” Ronan moaned. “It’s killing me.” There was no wound at his throat, only a silver scar.

“You’re alive.” Kane gave him a crushing hug.

“That fucking hurts, Kane. Of course I’m alive, what else—” He frowned. “What happened to Della?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Kane said. “Let’s get you to your room.”

“Tell me now. She looks hurt. What did I miss?” He looked around. “What time is it? I just had the strangest dream.”

Kane pulled him to his feet, putting a supportive arm around him. “You can tell me all about it, after you’ve gotten some rest.”

Ronan refused to be led away. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to Della.” He turned. “Lia? Are you crying?”

She couldn’t speak to answer him. Tears rolled down her face, falling on Della’s cooling skin. She was gone. Forever.

“Lia?” Ronan hobbled over, laying a warm hand on her shoulder.

She sobbed with relief. He was really back. But Della, Della never would be.

“Is Della… dead?” His voice cracked.

Lia blinked away her tears. The pack had melted away. It was just them now. Them, and her dead mother.

Ronan fell to his knees, cradling Della. “No! What happened?”

“You were dead,” Kane said. “You died in battle. And there was only one way to bring you back.”

Ronan rocked on his feet, growing horror in his eyes. “I died, but…” he patted his arms, his chest, “but I’m not dead now.”

“There was only one way to save you,” Kane said. “It required a life in exchange for yours.”

“So Della… she died for me? You let her die for me?”

“We had to,” Kane said. “It was the only way.”

“Then you should have found another one! Or let me stay dead!” Ronan buried his face in his hands. “After all she’s done for us, all she’s given to us? Why didn’t you let her live?”

“She wanted us to,” Kane said. “She didn’t want you to die, Ronan.”

“It should be me. Not her. That’s how it was supposed to happen. Why couldn’t you have let things be?”

Kane patted him on the back. “Calm down, Ronan. Let’s find Ivy, maybe she can make you some tea. Get some rest, you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Ronan moved out of Kane’s reach. “I don’t want any fucking tea. I want Della to be alive. Can you make that happen, you bastard?”

“All right.” Kane held up his hands. “You’re upset. I get it. But don’t act like we tied Della down and murdered her. It was her idea. Why don’t you get some sleep, and see how you feel when you wake up?”

“I don’t need any sleep,” Ronan spat. “I was fucking dead a minute ago, remember. I got all the rest I could need.” He stood on shaky feet, slapping Kane’s helping hand away. He looked at Kane, then Lia, his face a mask of contempt. “I can’t believe you right now.”

Lia doubled over. His words went through her like a dagger.

Ronan went to the edge of the dais and sat, ready to slide off.

“Can I help you down, at least?” Kane asked.

“Fuck you.”

Kane glared. “Yeah, break your neck on the way down, why don’t you? That’d be a fine way to repay Della.”

Ronan slithered off the dais. Somehow, he landed on his feet. He swayed, then staggered out of the den. “Don’t follow me,” he called over his shoulder. “I don’t want to see either of you for a while.”

“Well,” Kane said, “that went well.”

Lia burst into tears.

Kane looked taken aback. “What’s wrong with you?”

“She was my mother, and you knew. How could you not tell me?”

“You’re mad at me? How could you not smell it?” He stormed to the edge of the dais, stopped, then stormed back to her. “Here.” He shoved something into her hands. Lia stared at the tattered envelope bearing her name. Before she could ask any questions, Kane had vaulted to the floor.

He left the den too, loping into the bright, sunny day, leaving Lia alone on the dais with the body of her mother.

Chapter Three

She looked at the envelope that Kane had shoved at her so unceremoniously. It was Della’s handwriting, she had no doubt of it.

Fingers trembling, she ripped it open. She glanced at Della, half expecting her to sit up and explain everything. The paper inside felt brittle, like it might break apart at any second. Lia crossed her legs, carefully unfolding the letter and setting it in her lap.

It looked like she had written in a hurry. Some of the words were scrawled, almost unreadable, and ink blots dotted the page. Bending low, Lia began to read.

Dearest chickpea,

If you’re reading this, I’m gone. I’m sorry it had to be this way. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to say what needed to be said before it was too late. Bravery has never been my strong suit.

I’d like to tell you a story. A story of a girl whose parents didn’t much care if she went to school or hiked in the mountains for weeks on end. A girl who was painfully lonely until the day she met a dashing, dazzling man. He showed her things she could barely believe, took her places she had only imagined, and loved her like she’d never dared to dream. It was a string of blissful days, and time seemed to have no meaning with him. He promised her forever. But he left one day, and never returned.

She waited. She thought of him every day, and every night. She was sure he had just gotten distracted, and would return when he remembered her. He never did.

He left her something to remember him by. Her belly grew, and stretched, and swelled until the babe was born. The woman thought she was the most beautiful thing in the world. She was a quiet babe, a sweet babe. She liked to lie on the woman’s breast and feel her heartbeat. The babe began to grow, to babble, to toddle. She reminded the woman of the man who had left. Surely the man would know. He must be able to sense the child, and return to them. Then they’d be a family again.

Though the man had not yet returned, the woman wanted to celebrate the babe’s first year. She made sweet cakes and berry pie. Since she and the babe loved to sit under a willow tree and watch a family of ducks, she hung willow branches in their tiny cabin. She even brought out the candles she’d been saving for a special occasion. The babe liked them so much that the woman lit them all. What, after all, could be a more special occasion than this? The babe watched the candles, fascinated.

It had been a long day, a long year. The woman must have dozed off. She felt the heat before she heard the screams. The willow branches were ablaze, and so was half the cabin. The air was filled with smoke. She snatched up the babe and ran.

The babe cried, and reached out toward the fire. It vanished, along with the smoke. Carefully, the woman crept back toward the cabin. The charred logs were still hot. The babe clapped, and the flames roared back to life. Screaming, the woman fled.

The babe whimpered, reaching for her mother. The fire had gone out again, but the woman didn’t trust the cabin any longer. And she didn’t trust the babe. The man could have helped. He would have known what to do. But he had abandoned them.

In the end, there was only one thing she could do. She couldn’t raise the babe. She had no magic, no power, and wouldn’t be able to help it. But the man she loved had told her of witches who lived in the foothills. They would be able to help. They would know how to raise a babe who spun fire better than she walked. She rocked the babe to sleep, and kissed her for the last time.

Then she took her to the foothills, to a lonesome cottage, and left her at the door. It was the most wrenching thing she’d ever done, leaving her babe behind. But surely the witches would be kind. She would learn, she would thrive. The witches would love her, for who couldn’t love her? The babe would be fine. It was the best thing the woman could offer her, a chance at a full life.

The woman lasted three days, and two nights. On the third, she could take no more. She had to bring back her babe. She missed the little one’s smile, her warmth, the way she tried to sing along to her lullabies. Maybe the witches would let her stay with them, and watch her babe grow. If not, maybe they could teach her enough to keep her and the babe safe.

She returned to the foothills, but the cottage was gone. There was no sign that anything had ever been there. Maybe the witches had thought it time to move on, maybe they didn’t like the fact that a human had discovered them, but the result was the same. The babe was lost to her.

The woman wept, the bitter truth sinking in. She had abandoned her babe. She had left the child with nothing but a scrap of paper so she would know her name: Lia.

That would have to be enough.

It wasn’t though, was it, chickpea? I know I’ve thought of you every day since then. I doubt you’ve thought of me as often, but that’s all right. You were my daughter, but I was never much of a mother to you. I’ll always regret that, from now until the end of time.

I tried to do good in this world, I tried to help Kane and Ronan when they needed me, but it was never enough. I wanted you. I wanted you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, from the moment you were born. These words may sound hollow to you now, since words are easy to say and much harder to live, but they’re true.

I made up the prophecy to make sure you were happy. If you had succeeded as a witch, Kane and Ronan would never find you, and it wouldn’t matter. But if not, you could come and live with me. And I’d protect you. I was overjoyed when they brought you here, I wanted to hug you until you couldn’t breathe. But what would I say to you? What would you think of me?

And so I proved myself to be a coward twice over. I couldn’t admit what I was to you. I couldn’t stand for you to hate me, even though I deserve all your hate and then some. I was content for you not to know. It would be selfish of me to tell, after all. If you didn’t know, you could be happy. But truths have a way of finding the light. Please don’t hate me too much, for my truths or my lies.

I hope you remember me. Not as a mother, because I never really was one to you, but I hope you’ll remember me as your friend. Please don’t forget me.

You’ll be in my heart until the stars go out. Now go, set this letter aside and love and live with Kane and Ronan. Go lead them, chickpea.

Love you forever,

Della

Upon finishing the letter, Lia immediately began to read it again. Some of the words had gone blotchy where droplets seemed to have fallen on the page. She wiped her eyes, determined to commit the words to memory. They were her mother’s words, after all. She had never had any of those before.

Once she’d read the letter a third time, Lia turned to Della. “I could never hate you. I wish you had told me, but I could never, ever hate you.”

From this angle, Della seemed to smile.

***

Ronan ran through the meadow, his thoughts pounding with the beat of his paws.

You were dead. You were dead. You were dead. You were dead.