Chapter 41-Amara

To no surprise, Violet and Sophie immediately became best friends-Selene save us all. We did some walking around the shops, but with winter coming in hot we decided to just go to a restaurant for some drinks. After having a teeny tiny bit too much to drink and walking home-not even feeling the bite of the cold, we’re now sprawled across the living room. My legs are draped across Roman’s lap and Sophie’s head in mine with the rest of her perpendicular to me on the chaise. Seth and Gemma are in the loveseat, Cici and Aston on the floor, while Violet is sitting on her mate, Blue. Max and Serena opted out of hanging out with us, saying they had their own plans. If I thought Roman was serious and brooding, those two put his ice-cold exterior to shame.

“Blue, when are you going to tell us your real name?” I ask her suddenly, taking a sip of my wine I’ve been nursing. We only call her Blue, but when Aston so gracefully asked what kind of name that was, she simply told us it was a nickname and refused to tell us her actual name

“Uh, absolutely never.” Blue says immediately and Violet chokes on a laugh, while Roman coughs on his sip of bourbon. I shoot daggers at both of them

“You know, don’t you” I accuse them

“Nope, I have no idea” he says putting his hands in the air but I can see the sparkle in those sky-crystal eyes

“Of course I know my mate’s real name, that doesn’t mean I’m gonna tell you. I can use that for blackmail when it works in my favor” Violet says with a wicked smile

“Blue, what are you? A spy? That’s shady. I’m gonna be watching you closely” Sophie cuts in with a teasing glare in Blue’s direction, while I’m still glaring at Roman who gives me a warning look

‘You know you have to tell me’ I say, opening up our mindlink

‘I’ll tell you later, my queen’ he responds and I give him a satisfied smile

“Oi! No blabbing to her later, don’t think I can’t tell that you’re mindlinking over there. If you tell her you have to tell all of us” Gemma cuts in, laughing

“You know if she refuses to tell us it has to be bad.” Aston adds

“You can speculate on it all you want, but you’ll never know” Blue says smugly

We’re all still bickering back and forth, laughing, when I feel Tamisra perk up, unsettled. Everyone else also quiets down, as if their wolves did the same thing. Then I felt it, I can’t describe it as anything other than the air shifting, followed by a dull hum. I’m about to ask Tamisra what the fuck is going on when black mist starts to float in the middle of the room. I have a good idea of what’s going on, when all the males and Blue get up and step in front of their mates. I push Roman away, who responds with a snarl, as a tall figure who radiates darkness materializes where the black mist was.

I don’t know how I knew, other than the obvious answer of who else would suddenly pop up out of nothing with his eyes dead set on me, no. I knew because some primal part of me screamed I know you, I know you when I looked at him. The entire room is silent as I feel my hands shake as I gaze into green eyes that matched mine perfectly.

Other than the eyes and black hair, he looks nothing like me. His glossy black hair is cut short and neat, with a matching light stubble along his jaw and upper lip, making his pale skin look even paler. He has a small, slender nose, matching his long face. And goddess he was tall-at least 6 feet tall, and thin but obviously muscular. He looks like he’s 30, but some part of me knew he was way, way older.

I couldn’t tell you how much time has passed, maybe at least a full minute of us just staring at each other, when Roman puts a hand on my knee and Sophie grabs my hand. It must snap him out of it too, because his eyes immediately dart to Roman, and assess him quickly, narrowing slightly before they meet mine again.

“You look just like her,” he says in a deep voice, filled with emotion, and for some reason it shatters a part of me. A part of me that had been crying for a mother I never knew, along with the part that cried for the mother I knew and lost. Tears slide down my cheeks, and I fight the urge to run up to him and hug him, reminding myself that I know nothing about the man in front of me.

“I’ve been waiting almost 22 years for this moment, preparing what I would say, but somehow I still don’t know what to say other than, hello, Amara” he says when I don’t say anything else.

Willing my voice to not shake or crack, I breathe out

“Hello, father.”