“Derek…” She seemed surprised, definitely moved by what she saw on my face. She brushed her soft fingers over my cheekbone, using her thumb to wipe the tear away.

I stared at the book and wondered if I was doing the right thing. I couldn’t bear to look at her, so I looked away. “If you think what I did to Ashley was bad, Sofia, you’ll find that I’ve done a lot of worse things to protect my family and The Shade.” I returned my gaze to the book on her lap. “Read, Sofia.”

She opened the book to the first page. I flinched as she began to read out loud. It felt like we spent hours inside the lighthouse as she read page after page after page, gasping at certain parts, tearing up at others. At some points, she would look up at me – a million questions in her eyes, as if wondering how I was able to live with myself having committed such atrocities.

I couldn’t live with myself, Sofia. That’s why I asked Cora to put me in a sleep that I could never wake up from. I still don’t understand why she broke her promise and made me wake up four hundred years later. I wanted to explain myself to Sofia, but I kept my mouth shut through the whole thing.

At times, it was worth watching her reactions as she continued to read. Sometimes, she would pause and stare at me with admiration. Or at least, what I thought was admiration. It felt like I was fooling myself to even entertain the notion that she could admire me after reading about the grisly history of The Shade. The shipwreck, the lighthouse, the caves, First Blood, the slaves, the Wall, the beasts…

When she began reading the thoughts I’d written down about the uprising and the subsequent massacre, tears began trickling down her face and she started sobbing. I was convinced at that moment: That’s it. I’ve lost her. She stopped reading and continued to cry quietly, mourning the loss of all those slaves who dared rise up against us.

I sat still, my fingers gently brushing against her hair as I waited for her sobs to subside. When the sound became unbearable, I withdrew my touch. I barely managed to say the words, my own guilt choking me.

“I guess now you know exactly what I am.”

I didn’t expect the way she responded at all. She took hold of the hand that I drew away from her and pressed its palm over the side of her face, her fingers caressing the back of my hand. “I think I’ve always known exactly what you are, Derek. The thing is … I don’t think you do.”

I had no idea what she meant, but if her touch wasn’t already healing balm in itself, her seeming acceptance of me – in spite of the monster I believed I was – caused me to hope again.

She shut the book and gently tossed it back to its place at the coffee table. “I’m horrified,” she admitted. “I can’t fully understand how you could have been capable of making those choices…”

My lips twitched at the words. I felt like shrinking under the weight of her stare, knowing that her admonitions were gentle compared to what I deserved to hear from her.

“…but I’ve seen firsthand that you are better than the choices you sometimes make. I don’t think that the man portrayed in those pages is the same man who woke up in my time.”

I looked into her eyes and saw sincerity and hope… hope on my behalf that I could still have some good in me. At that moment, I adored her more than I ever did any other woman in my lifetime. I doubt she had any idea what her words did to me when she said,

“You can be better than this.”

When she leaned closer and her lips touched mine, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. After recovering from the initial shock, however, I responded with gratefulness and passion. I held her waist and drew her closer, practically carrying her so I could plant her on my lap as I once again partook of the pleasures those sweet lips of hers provided.

That night, at the lighthouse, everything else faded away in the background and my entire world became Sofia Claremont.

CHAPTER 39: BEN

I sat rigid over the circular couch, staring at the charismatic, confident gait of the man calling himself Reuben Lincoln. Zinnia was sitting on the same couch I was, a bright curious look in her eyes as she shifted glances between the two men she was with. Reuben, on the other hand, was sitting across me on a leather recliner, his posture relaxed as he leaned against the seat’s backrest, his elbows propped up on the recliner’s armrests.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Mr. Hudson,” he noted.

“That’s because I think I just have.” Bitterness was in my voice. That I could still be hurt on her behalf as I stared at the father who abandoned her for eight years was a cold reminder that Sofia still meant more to me than I was comfortable to admit. “You’re Aiden Claremont.”

I was expecting him to deny it, so I was surprised when a smirk showed on his face and he said, “I figured you would recognize me. You were old enough to remember.”

“Remember what? That you abandoned your own daughter?”

Zinnia shifted uncomfortably on her seat. I wondered if she even knew that their revered leader was actually Sofia’s father.

“I really don’t have to answer to you, Ben.” He responded without even batting an eyelid. He retrieved a cigar from the back pocket of his suit and took out a lighter. He was about to light it when he looked at me. “Do you mind?”

“Yes. I mind.”

He scoffed. “Good thing I don’t really give a rat’s ass.” He lit the cigar and took a puff. “I was only asking out of courtesy.”