“What about your clan?” He took another sip of his coffee and leaned an elbow on his knee. “Your Alpha’s pretty powerful.” There was a hint of bitterness in his tone, though where it came from, Cross didn’t know. “Can’t anyone help you there?”
He owed Ransom the truth. At least some of it. “If it’s not obvious by now, I’m not on good terms with them. They don’t know about Sabrina.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “And I’ve spent the last three years making sure they didn’t know about her existence.”
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Because she’s my True Mate.” The admission made his wolf yowl, and strangely enough, made the heaviness in his chest lighten, like he’d let go of a big weight he’d been carrying around all this time.
“I’m your what?”
Cross stiffened at the sound of Sabrina’s voice. She stood at the doorway, wrapped up in a blanket, pale hair in waves down her shoulders, her face a mask of confusion.
“Sabrina.” He got up and took a careful step toward her. “How much did you hear?”
“What does it mean, I’m your True Mate?”
“It’s not what it sounds like—”
“Damn you and your half-truths and explanations!” Her amethyst eyes flashed with anger. “Tell me the truth now. If you don’t want to tell me what a True Mate is, at least tell me about this forgetting potion.” Then she held up her hand. “And why those men want this ring.”
Dread filled his stomach. “I can explain.”
“I don’t want an explanation, Cross. I want the truth.” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a freezing stare. “Or so help me, I’ll walk out right now, and you won’t be able to stop me. I’ll go back to New York on foot if I have to.”
Cross stared at her, weighing his options. He closed his eyes. Three years ago, he thought he’d done the right thing, that this moment was something he wouldn’t have to worry about because it would never come.
But no, the truth was like the rising tide; no matter how you tried to stop the waves, they would always come. It was time to come clean.
“All right.”
She seemed taken aback by his lack of resistance. “Y-y-you’ll tell me the whole truth?”
“You’ll have to hear it from someone you’ll believe.” And when she did find out, he only hoped she could cope with what they had done.
“Who?”
He couldn’t tell her. Not yet. So, he took her hand. “We should go see your father.”
Chapter Nine
Truth be told, Sabrina was getting used to Cross’s power. The coldness wrapping around her was almost comforting. When her feet landed on solid ground, she immediately knew where they were. “The penthouse,” she said.
Her father’s penthouse on the Upper East Side, to be precise. They were outside on the large terrace that had an amazing view of Central Park. She’d grown up in this apartment, played out here, and had numerous breakfasts and parties on this expansive outdoor space.
Before she could take her hand out of his, he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her under his chin. She didn’t protest, and instead, sank against him. “What is it?” she asked, sensing his apprehension.
“Sabrina, what if … what if I took you away now? To anywhere else in the world. We can live anywhere you want, and you can be whoever you want. With my powers, I could even build us a cottage in a little village in Norway I know that overlooks the fjords. You could paint all day.”
She smiled against his shirt. “And what would you do?”
“I could learn to farm. Remember what you said about painting me as a farmer? Or I could fish. I don’t have to do anything really. I could stay home and … watch the kids.”
Her chest tightened, and she closed her eyes. She imagined a little boy and girl. Both with eyes the color of the sea.
“We could leave all this behind.”
Her body tensed. Pulling away from him, she turned her head up to meet his gaze. “If we live in this little cottage by the fjords, will you tell me what really happened three years ago?”
“We … we’ll start afresh,” he said. “We don’t need the past.”
It was oh so tempting. And for just a second, she wanted it. All of it. The cottage, the painting, the children. But she knew that if she were ever going to live a peaceful life and become the person she wanted to be, she had to know the truth. So, though it took all her strength, she took a step back. “I’m sorry. I can’t, Cross.”
He gave a solemn nod. “All right. We should go inside.”
They walked toward the glass door that led into the apartment. Sabrina slid the door aside and walked inside.
“What the—Sabrina?” Jonathan sat at the breakfast nook, body frozen, his cup of coffee halfway to his lips. “Sweetheart, is that really you?”
Despite everything she had learned about her father, his possible involvement in all these lies, the sight of him made her break down. She ran into his arms, embracing him and breathing in the familiar scent of his old-fashioned aftershave and enjoying the feel of his freshly-shaven cheek against hers. “Yes, Dad, it’s me.”
“I … I went to your apartment, and you were gone. I called the police.” He released her, then cupped her face in his hands. “Sweetheart, I—” His face switched expressions. “You.” Letting go of her, he marched toward Cross. “What are you doing here? I knew you were involved in her disappearance! We had an agreement!” he hissed. “What if they find out?”
“They already know, Jonathan,” Cross said. “I think we should sit down.”
His gaze moved from him to Sabrina, then back
