Page 61 of Beautiful Madness

“Of course I forgive you,princess. Come. Come with me.” He walked toward me, so familiar, soeverything,ready to pull me into his arms and into the afterlife. “I don’t blame you forletting me die.” His face softened. “I love you, Kait. I forgave you long ago.”

But he didn’t understand. Iwasn’t asking him to forgive me for not saving him so long ago. I was askinghim to forgive me for what I was about to do.

I tightened my hand around mydemon blade and went to kill my father. I would kill his hold on me, the pain,grief, and guilt of a past that had crippled me in nearly unfixable ways, and Iwould move on.

Once and for all, my fatherwould die, and I would finally be able to let him go.

ChapterThirty-Two

It wasn’t that easy, of course.

It didn’t matter that his wordsproved something I’d known all along—that he blamed me for his death—and thatreleasing him would have released me, as well. He was my father, and he was sotied up in who I was andwhatI was that cutting him loose was morepainful than my need to let him go.

Who had to kill their ownfather?Who?

“Me,” I whispered, and thewalls of magic around me, weak, flimsy, and nearly defeated, watched like ithad eyes and a mind and a heart. And maybe it did. I could feel its powerslowly strengthening as I advanced on my father, and it was as though he werethe boss in a video game. He was the magic’s last-ditch attempt to defeat meand survive. It had put nearly all its remaining power into creating him. Orsummoning him. And to kill the power, I would have to kill him.

Then it would be over.

His stare, both familiar andstrange, dropped to the knife I carried. “Dammit, sweetheart,” he murmured.“Don’t fight me.” He held out his hand. “Comewithme. You can leave allthis agony behind. Your constant trials, your worry, your pain—it will alldisappear. You can end it right here. Right now.”

And despite myself, Ihesitated.

His stare brightened. “Good,princess. You don’t want to kill me. Not again.”

“I did not kill you the firsttime,” I shouted, but my voice was heavy with tears and doubt. “I did not killyou.” Damn me for the pleading question in my tone.

He gave me a rueful look. “Weboth know what you are. If you’d have wanted to, you could have called forththe many beasts inside you, and you could have killed Adam Thorne. You couldhave saved me. Together, we would have ruled the pack and would be ruling iteven now.” He shook his head mournfully. “Maybe you wanted me dead.”

God, how badly I needed for himto admit that it wasn’t my fault—as though it could only be true if he believedit. “I did not kill you,” I whispered. “It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t let youdie.”

He sighed and his hand neverwavered. “I need you with me, daughter. Come with me. Please. You owe me thatmuch.”

He was flesh and blood to me.He was real. If I stuck that blade into him, it would make everything I’d feltsince he’d died rise up and destroy me, surely. If I killed him now, wouldn’tit mean I’d killed him then?

“Dad,” I cried. “God! Please.”I didn’t even know what I was asking him.

He smiled.

I faltered.

When the brittle wall around meshattered like so much glass, I didn’t at first know what was happening. Ithought the magic had distracted me so it could grow its power enough and onceagain attack.

And funny how my first thoughtwas protecting my father.

I spun, crouching, my blade in onehand, my magic swirling from the other, preparing to once again battlesomething that wasn’t nearly as scary as my father.

But it wasn’t the power.

It was the powerbreaking,and it was my alpha breaking it.

For a second I was too dazed toreally comprehend that he was there. I felt as though I’d been stuck inside thepower for decades. I’d been alone for so long I’d forgotten what it was like tohave my people. My pack. My love.

But then they all came floodingin behind him, all of them, even the vampires, and I remembered.

I was not alone. I wasneveralone.

“Alpha,” I said, my voicecreaky and hoarse.