DAXTON
I watched the blood drain from her face. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. He stepped out of the shadows like a ghost. He was lean and tall, with hair streaked with silver and piercing grey eyes.
“Papa?” Arya whispered.
Gods.
No.
I shot to my feet, ignoring the sting of the open wounds across my chest, and staggered forward.
“Don't go near her,” I growled, blood dripping from my fingertips. The rage I'd kept caged inside of me snapped, flooding through my veins like wildfire.
He stepped out of the shadows slowly, a blank look on his face.
“What is this?” Arya's voice cracked, shaking as she looked between us. “Mum told me you were dead—”
“I had to disappear,” he simply said calmly. “To protect you.”
Liar.
“You don't get to stand there and pretend that this is some k
