He kisses me on the top of my head as I breathe in his scent. “The biggest fuckin’ lie that the world tells us is that family is what matters. Fuck that. Blood only stains the way you see toxicity. Your mom was good, baby. She was good and pure and smart. She stayed with us to protect you.”
I swipe my tears away and step out of his hold. I need space, because if I don’t get it, Killian will possess every part of me.
“She was?” I ask, relieved. The memories I have of my mom are pure, so to hear that she was good, is a relief.
Killian nods his head just as a voice booms from behind me. “It’s true.”
I instantly freeze before turning to face Draya.
She looks me up and down. “Your mom was good, but I still didn’t like her.” She picks at her fingers, crossing her legs.
“You’re fucking hateful, that’s why, and people who are filled with hate start spreading it all around them when it becomes too much for them to contain.”
Draya laughs, her head tilting back briefly, before her eyes land on mine. “Maybe, but let me tell you one thing, Little Dragon. I may be a hateful bitch, but I love my son.”
“Are you saying that she didn’t love me?”
Draya brings her eyes to mine. “Yes. Because if she did, she would have fought harder to keep you away from the monsters, knowing full well that you would become one.”
I take a few slow breaths.
“Why are you here?” Killian snaps from behind me.
When her eyes shift to him, I see them soften around the edges. “Maya is looking for you.”
Killian exhales. “I’ll be up soon.”
I find the door that she snuck in from, leading out from the back of the office. I could hear music spilling down the stairs loudly, as the silence in the room stretches for too long.
Draya stands, walking back to the door she came from. Just when I think she’s about to go upstairs, she turns to face both Killian and I. “I tried so hard to keep you both away from each other. I was friends with your mother, Saskia, and though you may think I’m a bitch, that is only because I, unlike my son, tend to have stronger family values. We didn’t want you two to become like this.”
“Why!” I ask the question that I’ve been desperate to ask since I noticed her animosity toward me.
Her head tilts. “You would both comfort each other as kids. You were actually a restless baby. You struggled to sleep some nights, so I would come to the pool house to help your mom while your father was off working for Kallisto. Of course, I’d have Killian with me during those times, because he didn’t let me leave his sight.”
She smiles softly as if the memory comforted her in some way. Deep down, I know why. Killian can be cold toward her at times, but I’m thinking that has more to do with her sexual relationships within Mayhem and less to do with his childhood trauma.
“It happened at random one night. Your mom and I decided to leave you to cry, see if that helped or if you’d put yourself to sleep after screaming. You went silent about three minutes in, and we were shocked. We both ran for the room—albeit quietly—which was when we found Killian in your crib. He had climbed up the rail and snuggled in with you. He was just over two years old, and you were weeks old. Your mother and I thought it was cute until it kept happening. You would cry, and Killian would know. It was as though you were a siren for him, singing his very own song. We knew then and there that you and Killian were somehow drawn to each other. As though his soul was waiting for your birth.”
I wrap my arms around my torso, fighting the shivers that are running through my veins.
“I needed you away from my son, Saskia. You, a girl of Patience, the very first hybrid, you could ruin him. This brotherhood. This world. I didn’t know what part of the spectrum you would fall on, good or evil. All I knew was that my son was wanting to do anything to soothe your cries.” She shakes her head, tucking her long black hair behind her ear. “Then Maya arrived not long after you, and well, that changed things drastically. He was torn even as a child between you and Maya. Eventually, I helped push him toward choosing Maya, by convincing him that you were a pest. By the time you were both of talking age, he didn’t like you anymore. I was sure deep down he still struggled, but for the most part, he fought to hate you.”