We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. With widened blue eyes, his mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally ran to my side, helping me up. Truthfully it's a good thing he did because my head was still reeling from--well from everything and my legs had yet to recover.

He gripped my shoulders, "Are-are you all right?"

First weird moment: my dad was worried. Not for nothing but the man never even so much as looked at me but then and there he looked terrified. Right, right I had just practically evaporated from thin air, falling with what I can assume was a loud thump but still, it was not the expected response. How many times had I fallen down the stairs and my father just looked the other way? Pushing aside the crying wolf theory as I was rather clumsy and fell down the stairs more times than not, it was still a very strange response from him. Second strange occurrence: my dad gripping my shoulders. I don't ever remember  the man hugging me, so this lifetime moment we were sharing was, to be brutally honest, scaring the shit out of me.

With his help, I rose to my feet, "I'm fine dad...really," I backed away slowly, wrapping my arms about myself. Staring with a measured gaze, a million questions become apparent on the lines forming above his brow. Cowering further back, I headed off whatever questions he thought to ask by asking one myself.

 "What are you doing here?" I didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, but luckily that was what I voiced rather than the barrage of curses flailing about my brain. Honestly, I wanted to venture out of that room and leave the entire past few months behind me, including the sudden appearance of my beloved father but for some reason I couldn't get myself to move.

He shook his head, clearly confused, "This is my house-"

His house? Does he mean the house he never frequented? Classic...

I clarified, this time the edge in my voice fully intentional, "I mean what you are doing here, right now. Aren't you a little too late for this concerned act?" My mouth had run away with itself.  Simply, I was getting tired of this person I was turning into. I was done with the tears, I was done with being the victim and I fully intended on rectifying things, starting with my father.

"Did you know I was in the hospital for two months? Oh," I put a finger to my lips, "You did know because surely they called you, yet you never thought to check on me. To maybe come and see me?"

"Charlotte-"

My hand flew in the air, "Don't. It's called sarcasm dad. You're not supposed to answer the question." I scoffed, "And honestly, even if you did, I really don't care about your reasons. I've experienced things that I am proud of, ashamed of, scared of-and just when I thought things were low, you show up and magnify what a mess my twisted little world has become. It's almost fitting really as it seems all of this is one big shit on Charlotte parade." Storming to my closet, I retrieved a duffel bag that I'd gotten at a church retreat a few years back. It wasn't big by any means and I wasn't even quite sure why I had retrieved it in the first place. Perhaps it was just nervous energy and the need to run away from it all. Regardless, I had pulled it out so filling up was the next logical step. Dropping it on my bed, I set aim for my dresser.  "So why are you here? Have you come to tell me that now I'm eighteen so I need to move out, is that it? That I need to pack my things and leave your house?" Lifting piles of random clothing which in all honesty I hadn't a clue what I picked out, could have been piles of socks for all I knew,  I walked back to the bed, "Well, I'm already doing so. Mind closing the door on your way out?"

I could still feel him at my door though my back was to him. Seriously, what, after almost ten years of nothingness did we have to say to one another?

In all my subdued rage, I knocked a pile of shirts onto the floor. Bending to get them, a gasp tore at my attention. Looking to my father, he stood, paled, looking at my fusion marks that were in clear view.

I didn't bother hiding anything and pulled up my sleeves. "Oh this? Yes, well, I decided to get a tattoo for my eighteenth birthday." I explained, plainly not understanding why he cared. Naturally I'd thought to tell him exactly what they were, that I'd been bedded and bound to some jerk and those marks were just daily proof of my stupidity, but that would just have been overkill. He'd thought me a maniac in a minute.  In the time he had been gone, he should have thought himself lucky I wasn't covered in full body tattoos...

"I can't believe this."

I threw down whatever I held in my hands, "Excuse me? As odd as this may be, for both of us, we're better off not pretending." I spat, my rage increasing. "God, is this really how you're going to act?" My stare like concrete, I got the sudden feeling my father wasn't angry...more like terrified. An awkward silence spread between us. My night thus far had been a complete bust and I had no interest in furthering my torment. Spinning on my heels, I went back to my pointless packing when he said just above a whisper-

"You're bound."

What? My blood went cold. Turning as slowly as my heart was beating, I faced my father who still donned a look of pure disbelief. Nausea instantly ebbed and flowed through me as the floor beneath me seemed to spin though I stood completely still.

"What did you just say?" the wobble in my voice completely untamable.  Everything blurred, tears claiming my eyes as if they belonged there, but they didn't...they didn't. It wasn't supposed to hurt that much--his betrayal.  But somewhere deep inside I thought that him being my father....I being a part of him, he loved me if only because I was part of him. But obviously he didn't because how could anyone possibly abandon their daughter, knowing what they are... I guess not even that was sacred.

"You-you mean, you know about this?" I remained rooted to the floor, unable to breathe. He didn't say a word, a distance clouding his eyes as if in memory. The ticking of the clock, the sound of cars passing, all of it filled the silence except for his voice that withheld what I needed to know. I knew the answer. He knew the answer. But I needed to hear it. Then he said,

"Yes." But not only that as he went for the kill by adding, "They're fusion marks. I know what they are." He did know what they were. And just when I thought my blood was set to freeze within me, leading to a slow, painful death, he finished the job by saying, "Because your mother had them."

My brain had a hard time processing anything. It was like turning on a car and the ignition struggling to come to life, instead shutting back down...something like that. Comprehension evaded me.

"Charlotte, I'm not sure what you know or who's been guiding you through the change-"

"A liar and he doesn't matter anymore." I pushed the words through my tightened throat, the mere thought of Ivan and Elena twisting my stomach.  But it wasn't the time...there were other things to worry about, namely all of the questions I had to ask of my father. Countless times while growing up, I'd dreamt of such a moment, where I would have my father in front of me, able to question him about anything, hell even ask him about the weather if I felt like it. But now I had him in front of me, and of all the questions that clouded my mind, the one that seemed to pulse in my blood was,

"And you?" I bore my eyes into his, the silence between us stretching on for longer than I was able to stand. Though either answer would not have made anything better, at least if only my mother had been Fae then perhaps there was an explanation as to why my father decided to stay away from me. Maybe he was scared of what I was, of what I could do, if he knew what I could do. Maybe she from that other side, The Unseelie Kheelan had called them and he didn't want to be involved with such evil. But on the same token, if it was her, then I was truly alone.

Nodding , his jaw clenched, then he said, "It was just her--"

 I don't know what I felt. Disappointment? Indifference? She had never been a part of my life so perhaps all I felt was nothing...no, that's a lie. It was cold. It was hot...it was anger.  She had to be the faerie. The one dead party had to be the one holding all the answers. Falling back on my bed, I let my hands linger on my lap, just there. Then he made it worse,

"Or so I thought." Walking and sitting beside me, he cleared his throat, "I met your mother on my route from Dublin to New York..." He started, his eyes distant in thought, "When we arrived at Kennedy Airport, once all the passengers cleared, I noticed this ravishing red head remained seated. Any guy with half a brain would want to talk to her so naturally I approached and noticed she was crying. She was trembling and was in very bad shape. She didn't say anything, but she needed help. I knew she did. Convincing her to come with me took some work as she wouldn't talk or stop crying but finally she trusted me enough to at least leave the plane." He sighed heavily, linking his hands loosely in a similar fashion as mine, "We sat at a coffee shop for what seemed like an eternity over cold cups of coffee until she finally spoke."

"What did she say?"

He chuckled, "I hate coffee." Against my best intentions, I laughed. Clearly I inherited that part of my personality from her. He continued, "She then told me her name and that she had nowhere to go, no money, no family. I don't even know how she boarded that plane but...it didn't matter. She needed help. Though at the time I thought myself foolish, I welcomed her to stay with me, at least until she could get herself going. The city was no place for a woman on her own, not one in such a fragile state as your mother was. Anyway, as time passed, she began trusting in me a bit more until finally telling me of the horrors that led her to the day I found her...and you."

I jerked back as my world stopped spinning. Of all the things I expected to hear, that was never one of them. Alone just took on a whole new meaning as I then found myself no longer just an orphan figuratively, but literally.

"You're not my father..." The simplicity of my words cutting me in half.

"I'm really sorry Charlotte. Your mother already had you when I met her which is partly why I took her in and insisted so much that she come with me. All she told me was that there are certain women who can survive mating with a Faerie and not die of the need, of the obsession that floods their veins at least not as quickly as others. Your mother was one of these women. Because of this, she was held as a prisoner in a place I dared not ask her about. Whenever she even thought of it, she would get sick and shiver uncontrollably. In this world, these women were slaves and subject to atrocities. But your mother was strong and as the others died off, she remained. Somewhere in this time...you came along.  She told me that soon after you were born, something was placed within you for safekeeping, that you were special in some way but she didn't care. She didn't want to risk you becoming like them as you were her daughter. She said bad men, these unseelie, wanted both you and what was within you to do unspeakable things,"

He must have meant Xanthus' men. They were the ones that would be coming after me. That were already after me...

He went on, "But she wouldn't allow it. Aided by infiltrated faeries from another kingdom she was able to escape-"

"The Seelie..." Ivan's side.

"Yes. They got her out of that place and back into our world. And that's when I met her.  Well, shortly after, everything went crazy." He paused, cupping his mouth as clearly the memories rushed through his mind, "Shadows appeared from everywhere, nowhere was safe. Luckily we were found and aided by more of these Seelie faeries; they didn't know what you held inside of you and your mother swore me to secrecy that I wasn't ever to tell or they would want to take you from her. So I kept shut and after some more running, they told us of this place, of Shongopovi. It was one of the few places on earth where you could be safe due to some magic in the lands. It's also incredibly remote so hiding you here was ideal."

"But wouldn't they have followed? Wouldn't they have spent all these years trying to...to...get to me somehow?"

"I was the one that brought you here. They weren't looking for me. But your mother--" he swallowed, a knot clearly forbidding his words, "to give us a better chance, she created a diversion so the others wouldn't see me leave with you. She," he paused again, rising and walking to the dresser. Leaning back against it, he continued, "she sacrificed herself."

I have no idea how long we sat in silence, as my brain struggled to make some sense out of...everything.  Looking at my father, well, at the man that was the closest thing to a father I had, I shook my head and shrugged.  Just a shrug because there were no words for what he had just spoken. 

He started, "I'm so sorry-" The chiming of the doorbell cutting him off.  My father regarded me with a confused stare,

"Are you expecting anyone?"

Sadly enough, I was. Nodding, I rose to get the door. Clearly Ivan knew where I was, and while we weren't on the best of terms in any shape of form, it was also clear that it was time for me to grow up and realize I couldn't do things alone regardless of what anger and pain I felt toward him. Not only had Kheelan said it and Ivan as well but now my father too echoed their warning: there was going to be Fae after me.

Of what my 'father' disclosed my mother was human but very strong...maybe Ivan knew something about her, anything. Yes, yes it sounds naïve. For all I knew, the faerie realm was the size of this very planet and not all Fae knew each other, but it was worth a shot. And any shot right now was worth trying because my mother died to protect me...I owed her. But suddenly I stopped in my tracks, needing to know one last thing before I opened the door,

"Did she tell you who my real father was? If she was human then that means my father was a Faerie... what ever happened to him?"

He sighed, shaking his head no. "She only mentioned his name once and that sent her into a depression that took days to shake. I never once asked her after that."

The doorbell rang again, but I just had to know, "And what was his name?"

He looked at me square in the eye and without knowing how much the words he was about to say would change things, he said-

"Xanthus."

***

Thoughts?

So, were you expecting that? Gosh I hope not because I was actually kind of happy thinking it was an unexpected twist haha

Thanks so much for reading!!