Clara dropped her fingers, tracing a pretty snowflake on Fox’s spine.

He growled, hands clenching. Clara lost her balance a little before steadying herself.

“That’s the tattoo I hate the most. It was punishment. If we failed to do exactly what they wanted, they’d make us spend nights alone in the forest. The once mystical bears and wolves I wanted to find were now my enemies in the dark. Hungry and looking for a tasty snack—” He cut himself off before continuing, “The little boy spent his eighth birthday in the pit. The worst place to go if you disappointed your handlers. Day and night with no shelter. No warmth from dusting snow, or blankets to stop frostbite from turning your limbs into ice. The little boy hated the pit, and his deep-seated fear of the dark stemmed from those nights. Endless blackness only punctured by a weak moon and the glowing yellow eyes of wolves.”

Clara skirted over the Roman numeral III and went straight to a flame with an anvil.

Fox sighed, releasing some of his recalled fear. “When the little boy obeyed orders, he was allowed to work in the smithy. He loved the heat and brightness of fire and his skills grew. He threw himself into turning hunks of metal into weapons of destruction—it was his happy place. Despite the daily toils and gruesome tasks he was given, the boy never forgot who he truly was and always remembered the truth. They broke him again and again, but he knew in his heart he wasn’t what they said he was. It wasn’t until a fairy godmother granted him the loss of sight that he was able to find freedom.”

What? Fox had been blind?

Clara whispered, “The last tattoo of the fox. That’s you?”

Fox smiled. “Yes, when the little boy graduated he was told to choose a code name. Something he would wear with honour for his achievements. He liked to think he was smart enough to win in the end—wily and cunning like the small, red-coated fox. It reminded the little boy of his mother’s red hair, and his father’s bushy moustache.”

Clara leaned back, waiting for the end of the story.

“The moment the little boy was free, he made a new promise. To never kill again and that he’d find a way to break the brainwashing and make up for his sins. But it wasn’t until a little girl with long dark hair entered his life that he was finally able to believe he could achieve his promise.” Fox looked over his shoulder, grey eyes blazing into mine. “Now life is good for the little boy, and he can finally start to put the past behind him. Every day he strives for forgiveness, chasing an unfamiliar emotion. He has something else to fight for.”

“What’s that?” Clara whispered, her face glowing from the fire.

Fox spun around, hiding his back from view. His lips twitched into a soft smile, causing a flurry of butterflies to erupt in my stomach. “Family.”

I didn’t think I was capable of feeling so wretched or so hopeful all at once. He hadn’t just stolen Clara from me, he’d stolen my heart. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and tell him I’d do anything to bring his dreams to life.

Then my heart shattered. What will he do when I tell him about Clara?

The thought made me want to run and never come back. He’d hate me.

Fox stood up suddenly and headed to a table beneath a bright halogen. He tucked something under his arm and came back. Placing the dirty rag-wrapped present on the floor by Clara’s feet, he yanked the material off. Resting on the floor was the fattest, woolliest, perfectly created metal sheep I’d ever seen.

My heart cracked, splintered, shattered in my chest. And I knew without a doubt I would love Roan until I died.

Clara’s eyes bugged and her little mouth fell open in a huge grin. “My sheep!”

Fox nodded. “Your sheep.”

That night, after an afternoon of heavy contemplation about Fox’s story, I put Clara to bed. Hugging her tightly, I breathed in her fresh apple scent, praying with all my soul she would survive beyond all doctors’ predictions. That she wouldn’t have to leave me.

After hearing Fox’s tale, I wanted to tell him mine. I wanted to be as open and honest, but at the same time I didn’t want to. I had no happy ending to offer him. I didn’t want to break the little boy’s heart and kill him, so soon after he found a way to be free.

Clara coughed quietly, drawing my attention. Her beautiful liquid eyes shone from the bedside light. “Something’s wrong with me. Isn’t there, mummy?” Her high lyrical voice was hushed, almost as if she didn’t want to say it aloud.

My world crunched to a stop, but instead of wailing and cursing life for such unfairness, I clutched hard at calmness and hid my tears. Strength I didn’t know I had filled my limbs, keeping my voice steady.

Inside, I felt like a cracked china doll with broken pieces that would never be glued together again, but externally, I was a strong mother who would be there for her daughter till the end.

Running my hands through her hair, I murmured, “There’s nothing wrong with you, Clara. You’re perfect in every way.” I sucked in a breath. “And that’s why you’ll be leaving me soon. You’re too perfect for this world. Too precious. You’ll be called to somewhere much better than here.” I clamped my lips closed as a wave of grief threatened to make me break. “You have nothing to be frightened of. Promise me you won’t be scared.” She looked up, her large, dark eyes looking like an eclipse blotting out the light. “Why do I have to go? I don’t want to leave you.”

I had no answers for her. My mind was blank and worthless. “We never know what life will bring. But we won’t be apart for long.”

“Did I do something bad? Is that why I cough so much?”

Oh, God.

“You didn’t do anything bad. Nothing. It’s just your lungs, sweetheart. Some people are born with a different life path, but it doesn’t mean you won’t be happy and healthy. You’re just going to somewhere better.”

She lay quiet for a time before tugging on my fingers. “Will you be okay? When I’m gone, I mean?”

I gave up the battle to stay dry-eyed and kissed her soft forehead. “I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll talk to you every day. You’ll be with me always.”

She sighed, pressing her face against mine. “Even though I might leave, I won’t ever truly leave you, mummy. I’ll find a way to come back and be with you. But you have to promise me you won’t be alone. I would cry to think of you sad because I left you.”

I couldn’t reply.

She squirmed upright, placing her slightly sticky hand on my cheek, just like she’d done to Roan. “Promise me you’ll fix him, mummy. He needs you.”

I didn’t want to promise something I couldn’t achieve, but looking into her urgent eyes, I found myself nodding and swearing on my life I would fix the man I was falling for.

Only after I’d told Clara a story, and unwrapped her sleeping figure from my arms, did I slide down the bathroom door and cried wracking sobs with a fist in my mouth. On and on, wave after wave of crashing sorrow.

I purged myself until no more liquid existed in my body.

Only once my body quietened from sobs, did I stand up and look in the bottom of the rubbish bin where I’d hidden yet another complication.

The two pink lines mocked me from the home pregnancy test. All my life I believed I had one chance at motherhood. That the brutal attack in my teens left me barren. All the doctors concurred I was too badly mangled to conceive again. The nurses stroked my hands and consoled me. I’d been offered counselling to come to terms with never giving Clara a brother or sister.

At the time, I didn’t care. Clara had been a mistake—a wonderfully joyous mistake, but one I probably wouldn’t do a second time—but as time passed, I found myself sad to think I would never bring more life and wonder into the world.

But just like everything, life had a way of knocking me on my ass with surprises.

Conceived by a forceful lover and a man consumed by demons.

I was now pregnant with his future.

Chapter 16

The truth shall set you free.

That was bullshit.

The truth made me a monster and placed fear and sadness into a little girl’s heart. But it helped with one thing: it gave me Zel. The way she looked at me changed from wary to wanting, from fearful to needful.

The night I told my story, Zel came to me and broke my walls. She smashed my conditioning, and I hoped life permanently changed for the better.

I hoped I was cured.

But hope is a fickle thing. It made the future look bright and pure when really it did nothing but camouflage the dark and dirty truth.

Truth Zel kept from me.

Truth that ruined my hope.

Truth that undid all my progress and hurtled me back from human to weapon.

That night, after Zel retired with Clara to bed, I spent a few hours overseeing Obsidian.

The time had just struck midnight, and the club heaved with eager fighters. Men swarmed in packs, discussing strategy, sharing war wounds, eagerness on their faces for a chance to excel in a fight. Every cage, mat, and ring was occupied with a long waiting list hanging beside the rigging. Seats held blood-hungry spectators. Girls circled the crowd delivering drinks and offering themselves for entertainment while private rooms were in hot demand.

Another busy day at the office.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Zel had looked at me or the need throbbing in my blood. It took all my strength to stay there and not storm back to Zel’s room and drag her out of bed to take her. I’d never needed sex so badly—never needed the affirmation that I hadn’t ruined the chance to be together.

You may have told her the truth tonight, but she’s keeping something from you.

My hands gripped the balustrade harder. Her secrets were driving me insane—especially seeing as one revolved around Clara. I wanted to know. I deserved to know.

“You alright, Fox?” Oscar appeared at the top of the stairs. His blond hair was spiked tonight, dull with wax. His tan deeper, browner, as if he spent the day in the waves under a beaming sun.

“Yeah, I’m good.” And despite everything, I was. I’d survived telling the truth. It hadn’t been as terrible as I imagined—not that I’d gone into detail. By speaking of it, memories swarmed my brain, pushing and shoving for space. It was hard to ignore since I invited the past back into my life.

I looked away, focusing on two men brutally hitting each other in the boxing ring. The urge to fight filled my stomach. It’d been days since I’d entertained the thought of a session. I missed it.

Being around Clara gave me pain to ignore most of the conditioning, and the small self-harm I did in the shower gave me the extra edge I needed, but I wanted the joy of my fist crunching against something hard. I wanted the thrill of taking someone down. I didn’t want the shame of being a pu**y and cutting himself like an addict.

You’ll never be fully free.

I’d never be tamed or soft and gentle. Violence was as much in my DNA as my brother and past. It was fruitless to pretend otherwise.

“I didn’t think you’d be working tonight. Ever since that little girl arrived, you’ve been distracted.” Distracted by chasing a better life. Focusing on other things to turn me into a better human being.

I flashed him a half-hearted smile. I wanted to ignore him. I was in no mood to chat after spreading my life’s history at Clara’s and Zel's feet. My entire body was bruised, my brain bleeding from remembering, my throat sore from speaking about such atrocities.

“Yeah, had a few things on my mind lately.”

Oscar came to stand beside me, carefully overseeing the men below us. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

I glowered. “Why? What’s it to you?”

He faced me, giving me his full attention. His bright blue eyes pinned me in place. “You don’t seem yourself. You’re frankly freaking me out. One moment you’re untouchable and slightly crazy, the next you’re brought to your f**king knees by a kid—and not just any kid—but a kid belonging to a woman you’re falling for.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I know it’s not any of my business, but are you truly okay?”

I bared my teeth. “I’m fine. Drop it.” I turned my attention to two feral fighters who’d left etiquette behind and turned into royal uproar in the MMA cage. The crowd salivated at the brutal punches and the first spray of fresh blood.

The angst and love of pain filtered into my body, feeding my tiredness with unhelpful rage.

Oscar muttered under his breath. “She’s falling for you, isn’t she?”

I balled my hands, ignoring him. I hated sharing my private life. It wasn’t any of his business.

When I didn’t say anything, he added, “She’s good for you, Fox. I got it wrong when you first brought her up here. I thought she was another floozy only after your money, but she’s strong.” His blue eyes stopped trying to read me and returned to the fighting floor. “She’s got iron flowing in her veins and blades for fingernails.”

Despite myself, I was intrigued. “What makes you say that?” I knew the second I met her how strong she was. Her courage was the reason I chased her. Her strength was the reason I was in this mess. Obsessed with a kid and falling for a woman who I couldn’t read. One moment, I thought she cared like I did, the next I couldn’t tell.

Oscar’s eyebrow rose. “Well, for one thing, she doesn’t put up with your bullshit. Thanks to her help with the paperwork, she’s increased margins and the club is running smoother than ever.” He smiled. “She keeps her mouth closed about some of the not so legal things we’re doing, and she’s loyal to you. If you think she’s the one, then I agree—she’s perfect.”