Page 106 of Dark Lover

Aidan was holding out a glass of wine to his son, his expression so somber he might have been at someone’s deathbed. Ian looked ready to explode in anger. He shook his head abruptly. “No thanks. I’d rather drink alone.” He walked away from his father to stand before the hearth.

Sam saw Brie, sitting on the bench at the end of the table, looking distressed and unhappy. She got up and went over to Aidan, touching him, the gesture meant to be consoling.

Aidan was visibly trembling. He put the glass down and walked over to his son. “I dinna see ye fer twenty-five years. Can ye sit down with me, at least?”

“Why?” Ian snapped. “What do we have to talk about? My memories of the years I spent in captivity?”

Aidan inhaled. “If ye want to speak about the past, then that is what I will do.”

“I have nothing to talk about,” Ian snarled.

“Ye came back to Awe, not once but twice,” Aidan tried.

“I came here to ask ye to help me rescue Sam,” he said harshly. “Not because I needed a favor, but because ye owe me more than ye can ever repay.”

Sam inhaled, shaken by his cruelty.

“I owe ye an entire childhood, many times over,” Aidan whispered, his eyes tearing. “An’ we both ken there be no way fer me to ever give it back to ye. So ye’ll punish me instead, until I die.”

Ian shrugged indifferently.

“He grieved for you for sixty-six years,” Brie cried shrilly. “Ian, he loves you so much! He hated himself for sixty-six years for failing you! He still hates himself sometimes, for that failure!”

“Good, then that makes two of us,” Ian said sharply. He turned, saw Sam and stiffened. “Are ye ready fer bed?”

Sam nodded, overcome with pity for him.

Brie put her arm around Aidan, who never took his moist gaze from his son. “We love you, Ian,” Brie whispered.

Ian stormed out. Sam quickly followed. When they were on the third floor, in the chamber she meant to share with him, she debated whether to butt into his life or not. She knew any comment she might make about his relationship with his father would not be welcome.

He slammed the door closed and threw the bolt. “Don’t start.”

“Someone needs to start in on you.”

He glared at her.

She hesitated. “Ian, he’s your father and he loves you.”

“I have no father.” He tore off his T-shirt and flung it across the room.

“I get why you’re so angry. He never came to rescue you. That sucks. But he thought you were dead. Moray made sure he believed that, Ian. Have you ever tried to lay the blame on Moray, instead of Aidan?”

He stared at her, all attention now. “I hate them both.”

Sam shook her head. “Aidan is a good man, Ian. And he’s your father. You can’t mean it.”

“I was just a little boy! An’ did he save me?” he raged. Sam knew he didn’t expect an answer and she didn’t try to speak. “I waited, I wept, I begged, I prayed, I hoped! An’ then one day, the hope was gone. One day, I knew I’d live there like that forever!”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I don’t care! Do ye know that the gods have charged him with the duty of protecting children? He spends his days saving innocent children, when he couldn’t save his own son!”

“It sucks,” she said. “It really does. But life is goddamned unfair.”

“Unfair?” he choked, incredulous. “I was the sacrifice, so he could learn a great lesson and take on his damned destiny!”

“Thank God, you survived.”