My lip quivered and I sat still, unable to see through my tears. “David. If you don’t tell me, I’ll…”

“Okay.” He leaped forward and grabbed my arm, his finger pointing right in my face. “Just don’t. Finish. That sentence.”

I nodded, sniffling. “How’d you know what I was going to say?”

“I don’t.” He sat back down. “Nor do I want to know.”

“Then tell me what happened to that baby. And don’t just give me half the story, making it sound like you told me the whole thing.”

He sighed, rolling his head back onto the rock. “I never wanted you to learn of this.”

“Why?”

“Because, I…because it was the most heinous task ever requested of me.” He hung his head low. “And I did something that day that I am most ashamed of.”

I swallowed hard.

“After Drake killed Lilith, he believed his Warriors had wiped out her entire blood-line. But they were wrong.”

My heart picked up and my pulse suddenly became present in my stomach.

“Lilith’s granddaughter, Evangeline, bore a child. She hid the infant before they came to destroy her after Lilith’s death.”

“And they found it?”

“No. That child survived, but never triggered immortality. And her bloodline went on.”

“So, this was centuries ago?”

“Yes, and then, in nineteen-forty-five, when I applied for my position as a council member for my Set, Arthur pulled some strings. They accepted me on the provision that I carry out a task; to kill a child they believed to be Lilithian.”

My eyes closed as my breath deepened.

“She was barely two days old,” he continued. “I laid her on the stone steps of the torture chamber and watched her for a moment while she cried.” David closed his eyes and clenched his fists. “What happened after has been my greatest shame as a vampire for a hundred years.”

“David?” I covered my mouth, trying to stop the tears.

“Ara, please?” He grabbed my hand; I pushed him away. “Please listen. I—my career as a vampire, my position as a council member was based on what I did in that moment.” He sat back and stared forward as if he watched the memory like a projection on the grass by the lake. “I placed the knife to her throat, and she stopped crying—staring at me with her inquisitive blue eyes.”

Tears streamed then as I envisioned David taking the life of that innocent baby.

“The blade clinked as it hit the floor.” David looked at his hands, and I looked up at him. “I lifted her into my arms and touched my fingers to her tiny mouth—feeling the softness of her breath through her cherry lips, and that of her skin; a softness I’d never felt before—except the day I held my little cousin—the day I lost my aunt.”

The sound of the coming summer around the lake faded as David recalled his tale. My chest shook with sobs.

“She was as perfect a child as I had ever seen, and I fell instantly in love with her. So…I ran,” David said.

“What?” I looked up, confused.

“I ran,” he repeated. “I stole the child and fled the castle. She slept in my arms while I carried her—trusting me implicitly, as if I were human. And when I placed her on the steps of an old church, she watched me with those sapphire eyes; watched me back away like she knew something I didn’t. And I never saw her again.” David’s chin dropped to his chest; “But it is what I did next that haunts my dreams to this day.”

“What?” I reached for him. “What did you do?”

“I walked—wandered until I reached Arietta’s grave, then dropped to my knees, weeping like a fool; nothing of the hardened council member I was supposed to be. My career was in ruins, my reputation, and that of my uncle’s.” David nodded to himself then. “So, I started digging.”

“Hu!” I gasped.

“I dug until I reached the casket of my aunt and her infant child. Then, I stole the bones—charred them to wash off the stench of aged flesh, and presented them to my king.”

“You didn’t kill the baby? You left her alive?” My eyes widened as I marvelled at my husband.

“Yes.” He dropped his head.

“David?” I leaned closer, touching his arm. “Why would you be so ashamed of that?”

“Because I lied—to my own king, and I desecrated the remains of my dead aunt’s child.”

“But you did the right thing, even without compassion for my kind, you still did what was right.”

“Yeah, according to your kind.”

“But that’s what matters. Life. You protected that which was sacred, David—before you even had the heart to. That was a very noble and brave thing to do—the act of a true king.”

David looked at me then.

“You don’t get it, do you?” I touched his face, cupping my hand over his cheek. “I owe you my life. You saved my ancestor. It’s because of you that I exist.”

David’s eyes sparkled. “I—I hadn’t realised that.”

“Our destinies were tied, even over fifty years ago.”

I watched his face as a smile crept into the corners of his mouth and he sat slowly taller, thought growing in his eyes. “Your name-sake—your father’s mother. That was her.”

“No.” My brow pulled low and I shook my head. “No, it had to have been my mother’s mother—only females are born to Lilithian pure bloods.”

“No.” David shook his head, his eyes wide. “I looked for her—for the baby. They told me she’d been adopted, that her name was Amara. I just never made the connection until now.”

“But—” tiny bumps of cold ran over my arms, “—then my mum—wasn’t my mum?”

“Ara, if Amara was your father’s mother, and Lilithian blood is only passed down through females, then your dad isn’t your dad either.”

“No.” My mouth dropped. “How can that be? I look like my mum. I have her hair.” I held up a long, silky-brown strand.

“And you look like your father, too, Ara—too much not to be of that blood.”

My body flooded with heat then cold as the world stopped, and my heart pounded in my chest, thumping, beating to the rhythm of betrayal. How could he? My hands burned, tingling with the static charge as waves of electricity lashed over my clenched fists.