Then a memory of the one he told me flashed up like he was throwing them all out of order as he thought of them, the one where my mother stood up to him. It was where she told him she was afraid to live. I saw my father's reaction, the way his past self searched her eyes for an answer, the way his breathing escalated, sucking in deeply and then leaving his body in a rush. I saw the moment the wall around his heart started opening. It was no longer just curiosity, it was something else growing within him.
The image moved, and it was when he had kidnapped her, taking her away from her abusive mate who wasn't her actual mate. She was lying in bed, sleeping. He watched from the shadows of the room, a none looking at her would think she was asleep. A purple bruise marred her cheek, and it mus
