Chapter 13

  Dante swallowed back the harsh accusations he wanted to throw at her, the disbelief and hurt that she had kept his daughter from him all this time. He studied her face.

Fuck! I want to be angry with her, he fumed. He needed to release some of his pain and frustration.

But when he studied her, he saw the buried pain, the years of worry, the toll that being a single mother had taken on her. She had done everything in her power to keep their daughter safe. Yes, she had fucked up royally by turning to Rowan instead of himself, but he tried to hold back that hurt.

If he had been in her place, would he have done the same? He realized that she hadn’t known that he would come back eventually. She probably thought he had deserted her on purpose. Of course she thought that. He hadn’t been able to tell her differently back then.

But she should have come to me when she needed help! It’s my child, for god’s sake! His inner hurt railed at him, wanting to lay the blame for all that had happened at her feet.

The saner, more rational part of himself reasoned that the reputation he had wasn’t exactly that of a guy who would lend a helping hand when someone needed it. He was a demon, after all.

  “So, you’re ready to die. That’s good,” he told her solemnly. He watched uncertainty flash in her eyes, but she refused to show her fear.

  “Please don’t do this in front of my daughter.”

  “Let’s talk about your daughter, shall we?” he bit out. “How the hell could you keep her from me, Arya? You were so mad at me that you would keep my own child from me?”

  She gaped at him.

  “You left me,” she reminded him coldly. “The last thing I thought you wanted was a sick kid running around. And then I started hearing stories about you, and your…kind, and – I did what I thought was best for my daughter!” she blurted.

  The defensiveness in her tone made him cringe, but he did admit she had some valid points. She had no real way to know that demons were actually excellent fathers. Sure, they were harsh and viciously ruthless in all other parts of their lives, but family was tight for them.

   “So, what now?” he demanded. “What am I supposed to do with you now?”

  Arya’s mouth parted slightly and she eyed him.

  “I guess that’s up to you, Dante. I wouldn’t have done this if Rowan hadn’t misled me. I was only worried about Jasmine, but I know the punishment for this kind of thing is…swift and merciless.”

  “I don’t think there has ever been a ‘this kind of thing’,” Dante commented dryly. “You’re probably the first sorceress to ever successfully steal a Chasm of Guile.”

  Arya stared at him, and he could see she was trying to determine if he was impressed or angry.

  “You have quite a talent.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it,” she hedged. “Others might call it a curse.”

  Dante stepped closer to her, his eyes darkening as he peered down at her.

  “I never wanted you to get away. I meant everything I said to you at my house – even though you were just playing a role.”

  “No, I wasn’t!” she seethed, her emotions finally overcoming her rigid control. Her narrowed eyes skewered him where he stood. “There hasn’t been one day that I haven’t thought about you since that night. I have a living, breathing reminder of you glued to my side and you’re a fool if you think anything else,” she accused hotly.

  The confession was so sudden, so heartfelt, that it struck a chord with him.

  “But everything I have done, has been for my daughter,” she continued. “And I don’t regret a second of it.”

  “Our daughter,” he replied quietly. “She’s our daughter, Arya.”

  For a moment, he thought she was going to protest his words, but instead she shrugged and nodded.

  “You saved her life, Dante. That makes you her father. If you want to be a part of her life, I won’t stop you, but I won’t force you either.”

  He shook his head.

  “No, Arya, I don’t want to be a part of her life. I want to be your lives. I want to stare at you while you sleep and get woken up by a flying body on our shared bed. I want to make up for all the time we lost because I answered a call I should have never acknowledged.”

  She pressed her lips together and he could see the wariness in her expression.

  “Think of it this way,” he said softly. “I can’t very well go missing if you’re living in my house.”

  Arya snorted, but he saw her emerald eyes lighten slightly.

  “Are you sure that’s what you really want?” she whispered, and he laughed.

  “That’s what I’ve always wanted. Aren’t you listening? I never wanted anything else. I didn’t leave you willingly.”

  She met his gaze and slowly began to nod her head.

  “I mean, we could try it…”

  “Once you go demon, you’ll always be screamin’,” he promised and Arya chortled.

  “That sounds awful.”

  He pulled her into a hug, gently kissing the top of her head.

  “It’s better than it sounds,” he assured her, embracing her tightly.

  “Mama? Who is that?”

 They parted slightly as Jasmine ventured toward them, her bright eyes inquisitive.

  She looks exactly like Arya. I wonder if her brothers and sisters will look like her too, Dante thought, crouching down to look at her warmly.

  “Jasmine, this is your papa,” Arya said softly. “He’s missed you very much.”

  Her eyes became big as saucers as she stared at him.

  “You got a swing set?” she challenged him.

  “I will,” he promised her.

   Jasmine glanced at her mother, then looked down shyly, suddenly losing her burst of bluster. Slowly, she shuffled forward, getting closer and closer to Dante without once looking at him.

  When she got within a foot, Dante knelt down, but didn’t attempt to touch her, not wanting to spook her at all.

  Finally, she raised her eyes to his, and the moment their gazes met, a cool breeze wafted through the room. It was like a transfer of power, or an awakening of some sort. Arya had no idea what had happened, but she didn’t want to break the spell.

  She watched, transfixed as she saw her daughter’s hand raise slowly and touch Dante’s knee. His breath drew in quickly, as if electricity had tingled through him. Their gazes locked, and her daughter’s words were so soft, Arya could barely make them out.

  “Thank you for fixing me.”

  Arya’s heart clenched hard at the sentence. She had not had any idea that Jasmine had been aware of what her father had done. How could she? She had been unconscious when Dante had held her in the circle of his arms, and when she had finally awakened, she hadn’t acknowledged the man at all, acting as if everything was normal. She hadn’t even asked a single question about the stranger who had held her.  

   He extended his arms and the child climbed onto his lap without reservation, as if sensing it was a safe place to be. 

  Dante closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her hair, a warmth welling in him.

  It was as if everything had fallen precisely into place, just as it was meant to be.

  As they parted, Dante smiled at her affectionately.

  “Are you ready to go home?” he asked her earnestly and she nodded eagerly.

  “Me too,” Arya smiled. “Me too.”