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I closed my eyes and let forgiveness wash over me. For my mother. For this situation. For love, in all of its forms. I might not be in the same situation she was, but I understood it all the same, and that was much more than I thought it could be.

Tavlor kissed the top of my head and I looked up into his eyes. I sucked in a breath, controlling the tears that threatened to spill. I sniffled lightly, hoping I didn’t need to wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

Of course, the tears fell despite my best efforts. At least I wasn’t a hot mess, bawling so my mascara clawed its way down my face.

He used the pad of his thumb to brush away the tears. “When it’s the right time, it will happen,” he said, nodding once, twice. “If you want it to.”

I bit my lip. “I do. Speaking of which...”

I let my voice trail off, pushing myself away from the warmth and understanding of Tavlor, and back into the coldness of the trial room. The place where they were trying to make me marry a man I didn’t even know, and would never love.

It was impossible. I was my mother’s daughter. I’d already found my mate, my lover, the man I was meant to love for all eternity. I wouldn’t be able to change my feelings now. I couldn’t marry someone, commit to someone, have a child with someone I didn’t know.

Impossible.

I looked towards my father who was clenching his jaw and huffing like a grampus.

“What can we do, Dad?” I asked.

It was the first time I’d said it, and I couldn’t help but almost choke on the word.

Matlock’s head came up, his gaze intense as he stared at me.

He didn’t say anything, and I started to feel like I’d overstepped the mark.

“Is that okay to call you that... or would you prefer Father?” I cleared my throat, d

ropping my gaze to the floor. “Or just Matlock? I can do either. You know, maybe we just forget I said it at all?”

I sincerely hoped he didn’t just want ‘Matlock,’ despite the fact that we’d agreed on that.

His lips tweaked up at the edges. “Father... or Dad... works for me,” he said slowly. The words came out crisp but only because it seemed like he wanted to test them on his own lips. “Whatever flows easier for you.”

I managed a smile, despite the intense squeeze inside my chest. I’d wanted a father my whole life. Not just in person, but in name. Someone to call Daddy if I wanted to.

Even though I was an adult, even though I was used to not having a father at all and could survive without one, I found that I still wanted one, someone who would be there for me, protect me. Someone who wanted me, who loved me.

“Thank you,” I managed to get out. His acceptance of me was more than I could put into words so I didn’t try. “So, Dad, what are we going to do about this?”

He scratched his head, messing up his once pristine look.

“Unless Tavlor has another idea, or a stalling tactic, we may need to consider what they’re saying,” he said.

This was exactly what I didn’t want to hear.

“And what are they saying?” I asked. “Because if it’s all or nothing, then we’re gonna have a problem.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I mean... they can’t literally be saying, accept all our terms, or we’re back to execution. Are they?”

Because that was just so screwed up if they were.

My father shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I think... well, I certainly hope that all treasonous accusations are off the table completely.”

“Then spell it out, I’m obviously missing something.” I raised my brows, emphasizing my words. He needed to spell this out for me because I clearly wasn’t getting it.

He ran his hand through his disheveled hair. “That you may need to decide if you want to be my heir, and take all that come with being the High Warlock, or... not.”

My mouth fell open. “That’s one of the choices? I can just be your daughter and not worry about any of the other responsibilities and crap that come with the title?”

He nodded. “I should think so.”


Tags: Amelia Shaw Daughters of the Warlock Paranormal