Chapter 52: I Am Not My Father

Olivia’s POV

​Lucian was climbing toward me, and the moment our eyes met, my steps slowed. He looked completely drained. Dark shadows rested beneath his eyes, his hair was messy, and his clothes looked like the same ones he had been wearing the previous day. The usual sharp, commanding presence he carried everywhere was still there, but it seemed weaker somehow. For once, Alpha Lucian didn’t look like the terrifying man everyone feared. He looked like a brother who hadn’t slept because he was afraid his little sister might die.

​Lucian didn’t say a word. His eyes rested on me for barely a second before he continued climbing, clearly intending to walk straight past me. I don’t know where the courage came from. Maybe seeing him like this had temporarily destroyed my common sense. Whatever the reason, instead of moving aside, I stepped directly into his path.

​Lucian stopped.

​"How is she doing?" I asked softly.

​His jaw tightened as he slowly lifted his eyes to mine. "Get out of my way, Annabel."

​His voice wasn’t loud, but the anger in it was scary. I knew why. He wasn’t simply looking at me. He was looking at Kenneth’s daughter, the daughter of the man who had shot his little sister and left her trapped between life and death for months.

​"I heard what happened last night," I whispered.

​He stepped to the side, and I moved with him.

​His eyes narrowed. "Annabel."

​"I just want to know if she’s okay."

​"My sister is none of your concern."

​The words hurt more than they should have, but I forced myself to remain where I was. "Lucian, please. Just listen to me."

​"I said move."

​"No."

​The word escaped before I could think better of it, and Lucian went completely still. My heart pounded, but I had already started. If I stopped now, I knew I would never find the courage to say any of this again.

​"I never supported my father in any of his decisions," I said, looking directly into his eyes. "I was just a princess. I didn’t have the power to stop him. Even when he was planning the war, I begged him not to do it because I knew he was wrong. I told him people were going to die. I told him nothing good would come from it."

​That wasn’t a lie. I had been there when the real Annabel begged her father to stop the war. I remembered how desperate she had been. She had told Kenneth he was wrong, but he hadn’t listened to her.

​"I didn’t even know what my father did to Lillian until two days ago," I continued. "I knew the war was terrible. I knew people died. But I didn’t know he shot your sister. I didn’t know she ended up like this because of him. I was kept in the dark about so much."

​Lucian’s expression remained unreadable, but at least he wasn’t trying to walk away anymore.

​"Alpha Lucian, I am not my father," I said, my voice quieter now. "I know I’m his daughter. I know when you look at me, that’s probably all you see, and maybe I can’t blame you for that. But I didn’t shoot Lillian. I didn’t start that war. I didn’t want any of it."

​My eyes began to burn. I wasn’t going to cry. Not here. But one tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it.

​"I know saying I’m sorry doesn’t change anything," I continued, quickly wiping it away. "It doesn’t wake Lillian up. It doesn’t erase what happened to her, and it doesn’t bring back the people who died because of my father’s choices. But I want you to know that I am sorry. Truly. If I could change what happened to your sister, I would."

​Another tear followed the first, and I hated that I couldn’t stop it. Why the hell was I crying? I wasn’t even the real Annabel. Kenneth wasn’t my father. None of his crimes belonged to me.

​But maybe that wasn’t why I was crying. Maybe it was because I had seen what happened that day. I had seen Lucian holding his little sister while her blood covered his hands. I had seen the exact moment his hatred for the Blood Moon Pack was born. Or maybe it was because, somewhere along the way, I had started caring about what Lucian thought of me.

​That realization frightened me more than the tears.

​"He did those terrible things," I whispered. "But sometimes it feels like I’m the one being punished for them simply because I’m his daughter."

​Lucian remained completely still on the step below me. He didn’t yell or order me away again. He simply stared at me, and there was something in his expression I couldn’t understand. Pain, maybe. Anger. Or perhaps both.

​I couldn’t remain standing there anymore.

​"I hope Lillian gets better," I whispered.

​I wiped my face with the back of my hand, stepped around him, and continued down the stairs. I didn’t turn around to see if he was watching me. I couldn’t. I had already said far more than I had planned, and if I stayed near him for another second, I wasn’t sure what else might come spilling out of my mouth.

​By the time I reached the garden, the tightness in my chest had become almost unbearable. I walked farther away from the mansion until I found a quiet bench surrounded by flowers and tall shrubs. Sucking in a deep breath, I sat down and leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment as the cool afternoon air brushed against my face.

​What had I just done? I had stood in front of Alpha Lucian, refused to move when he ordered me to, defended myself for crimes that weren’t even mine, and then cried in front of him.

​But strangely, I didn’t regret it. If anything, I felt lighter. For weeks, I had allowed Lucian to look at me and see Kenneth’s daughter without saying anything. I had accepted his anger because I knew I was lying to him about who I was, but after seeing what had happened to Lillian, I finally understood where so much of that anger came from. And even though the things I had told him about Annabel weren’t truly my memories, they were true. Annabel had begged her father to stop the war. She hadn’t supported him. She hadn’t wanted thousands of people to suffer because of his greed.

​Maybe Lucian would believe me. Maybe he wouldn’t. At least I had finally said it.

​I stayed in the garden for a long time, watching the afternoon slowly pass. Eventually, the tears dried, and the heaviness in my chest eased enough for me to breathe normally again. Hours later, I returned to my room, exhausted from everything that had happened. I took a long bath, changed into my nightdress, and climbed into bed.

​Night came quickly, and I eventually switched off the bright light and pulled the blanket over myself. My mind moved from Lady Rebecca’s strange warning to Lillian and then, annoyingly, back to Lucian standing on the staircase. I pushed all of it away and closed my eyes. I had done enough thinking for one day. I needed sleep, and thankfully, exhaustion eventually won.

​I didn’t know how long I had been asleep when I felt the mattress sink beside me. My eyes opened immediately, but for a few seconds, I remained completely still, my sleepy mind struggling to understand what had woken me. Then the mattress shifted again, and I felt the movement of someone climbing onto my bed.

​My entire body stiffened.

​Not again.

​After what had happened the previous night, there was only one person my mind immediately went to.

​Lucas?

​I quickly turned and reached for the lamp beside my bed, switching it on. Bright light flooded the room, forcing me to blink several times before my eyes finally adjusted.

​Then I froze.

​It wasn’t Lucas.