His smile disappeared and his jaw tightened. “It bothers you.”
“Oh! No, not at all. The only thing that bothers me is you keeping shit from me. It’s weird.”
He tilted his head and studied me. “You’ve changed your mind on taking it slow. In this respect at least.”
“Yeah, I guess so. After finding out about Stella, I’m not willing to risk someone fucking me over again.”
He fell silent for a little while before giving me a nod. “Okay, I can understand your reasoning there. What’s your first question? No holds barred this time.”
I didn’t even need to think about it and said, “The picture.”
“No. That is not me. It was my father.”
“Bryant?” It shocked me that someone like Bryant had been so old.
“No. Bryant was a stand-in. Someone I paid to pretend to be my father. Pretend to be Alpha so I could be free to do what I pleased. He was not a Fraser.”
“Oookay… Well, your real dad had the mark of the curse.”
“Yes. No one considered a curse though. Back then, shifters coveted it.”
“Huh, if only I’d been born a few thousand years earlier.”
“Yes, but there would have been other things for you to overcome. Our immortality isn’t always a walk in the park. My father got bored, depressed, and ultimately killed himself.”
I’d heard about old shifters who’d done the same. After you’ve experienced all life has to offer, it’s difficult finding things to keep you excited about getting up in the morning. My dad was only sixty-three, so why he’d done it, I’d never know.
It takes a lot for a shifter to kill themselves, it’s a difficult and painful undertaking, so it’s a serious decision. It’s nearly impossible to behead yourself, so overdosing on Bane is really the only way, and it’s a nasty way to go.
A vision of my dad’s body flashed through my mind and a shiver ran through me.
I was determined never to get to the point Liam’s dad did. I had a plan to keep myself busy with my writing. I have a list of different pennames to use as I grow older. I have it all mapped out with different wigs for each author, and hopefully I’ll be raking in those Stephen King bucks by then so I can move around the world.
“I’m sorry. That must have been hard,” I said, kind of understanding. But I hadn’t exactly been heartbroken when my dad had died.
“It’s fine. By the time he’d gotten so bad he wouldn’t leave the house, I was already ancient.”
“This house?” I asked, and he nodded. “So, it was recent then.”
“The early 1700s.”
I looked toward the house. The trees and gardens blocked a lot of it, but I could make out the upper floor in the moonlight. “The house is that old? No wonder it makes me think of a historical romance novel.”
He laughed. “Shifters used to think of the mark as a kiss from Artemis. As a gift not a curse. The one blessed with it was stronger, bigger, and faster than all other shifters. When a female found out she was pregnant, the family would all pray to Artemis to kiss the baby.”
“Wow. Then modern-day religions came in and somehow it turned shifters like me into the Antichrist.” I smiled at his laugh. I liked the sound of it, and he’d been doing more of it the more we hung out. “You said you didn’t want to be Alpha. That you wanted your freedom. Why are you here now?”
“When I found out Bryant tried to kill a baby, I came back to take care of him. Your father saved me that trouble. When I saw you, I stayed to keep an eye on you.”
I rose to stand, looking down at him. “Keep an eye on me? We’ve discussed repeatedly that you ignored all the shit I went through.”
He rose from his seat to rest his hands on my shoulders, making me look at him. “You will understand one day, but for now all I can say is I could not interfere. I cannot tell you why right now. I will. Just not tonight.”
I looked into his eyes, searching for the lie, for the betrayal, for any sign that he was the bad guy I’d always made him out to be. All I saw was concern, sincerity, and something I couldn’t quite pinpoint, but whatever it was, it made me feel comforted.
I smirked up at him. “So, there’s at least one hold barred?”
“Yes, just that one. That I can think of.”