Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Five
Isabelle had returned to her seat, her legs crossed as she leaned back against the backrest, watching her father as he paced his office, muttering to himself as he threatened to wear a hole in the Persian rug on the floor. She watched him, bracing herself for impact. She knew that whatever history he shared with her mother was not pleasant, and she was not so sure how much she wanted to know.  
But even then, she sat still, understanding completely that it was important for her to know.  
She had told him about everything. The dreams of her mother, the strange land with the tower, the entity she had first met, the runes and markings on her arms, and the man with similar markings. At first, he had stared at her in disbelief, his eyes wide in wonder as he listened intently to her, hanging on the words that flowed from her mouth.  
And now she watched him as he paced. He stopped to stare at her, his eyes digging into hers, and then he shook his head and continued pacing. Isabelle sighed heavily. She wondered how long he planned to pace.  
“Please, sit. I do not have all day,” she stated firmly, shocking her father out of his disbelief.  
He stared at her long and hard, then did as she asked.  
Zane scoffed. “Even from the grave, that woman still manages to torture me and make my life hell...” he said as he shook his head sorrowfully.  
“What do you mean by she tortured you? I don’t understand, what did she do that was so bad?”  
Zane laughed sardonically and shook his head. Isabelle watched as he tapped his booted foot and then jumped to his feet and headed for the liquor cabinet once again, the almost empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table forgotten. He pulled out a bottle of red wine and retrieved two wine glasses. She watched as he poured wine into both glasses and handed one to her.  
Isabelle cocked her brow and looked from the glass in his hand to his face. “Since the day I was born up until this moment, you have never offered me anything at all...much less wine.” 
Zane had the good grace to look embarrassed. He chuckled and shrugged lightly, his hand still extending the glass of wine.  
“Well, I’m starting now,” he said, his hand holding the glass steady towards her.  
Isabelle looked from the glass to the man. “Why?” 
Zane sighed heavily and shook his head. “What I am about to tell you...I think we would both need drinks for that.” 
“Hmm...” 
Zane smiled and urged her to take the glass of wine. “C’mon...” 
Isabelle nodded and reluctantly took the glass from him, sipping on the red liquid and watching as he took the bottle with him to his seat. She watched as he took a sip from his glass and sighed, savoring the taste of the red wine.  
He finally lowered the glass and fixed his gaze on her as he crossed his legs. She could see his thoughts warring in his eyes, and wondered what was so heavy about her mother that he could not just tell her. As she sat there, she realized that this was the first time she would see emotion in her father’s gaze. In that moment, she began to question the wisdom of coming to question her father.  
“So,” Zane began, smiling widely at her. “Tell me, how is Khalil treating you?” 
Isabelle cocked a brow at her father, tickled and somewhat irritated at her father’s question. “You do not care about me. You do not care how I am faring as Khalil’s wife; there is no need for you to pretend that you do.” 
Zane scoffed and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Oh, I care for you more than you think,” he said, his eyes holding hers captive. “You have no idea just how much I care for you...which is why I arranged your marriage to Khalil in the first place.” 
The news hit her like a block of ice. It took her a few seconds to process the words that had come out of her father’s mouth.  
“What?!” she yelled, as she lunged herself forward to the edge of her seat. 
Zane sighed heavily. “I know it wasn’t what you wanted, but he is the only one I could think of that would be able to protect you when it mattered.”  
Isabelle took a long sip of her wine, realizing that her father had been right about needing the liquid courage for the conversation they were to have.  
“Protect me from what?” Isabelle asked as she still tried to wrap her mind around her father’s revelation.  
“There is a huge battle ahead of you, child...” 
“I didn’t come here for you to give me some vague prophecy. Tell me the truth!” 
Zane stood to his feet and ran his hands through his graying hair. Isabelle watched, still seated at the edge of her seat, as he drained his glass and refilled it and then topped hers as well. She didn’t complain. She needed the wine.  
Zane returned to his seat and crossed his legs. “If you’re seeing your mother and she has begun giving you directions, that must mean that you already know who you are,” Zane said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It must mean that you are aware of the power you hold and are beginning to come into it.” 
“Yes...” Isabelle said, her elbows on her knees as she swallowed every word that escaped his lips. “I am beginning to get the idea.” 
“So—” 
“Who is that strange man?” Isabelle asked abruptly, cutting him off. “Why did he want me to speak to you? What are you hiding from me?” 
Zane sighed heavily. “The story is not easy to tell, child, but I will try my best,” he said and dropped his empty glass on the coffee table next to him. “It’s not easy to listen to either.” 
“I’m listening.” 
The goddess forbids her to back out now.  
“Your mother wasn’t my fated mate,” he started.  
“What?!”  
Zane nodded slowly. “But I loved her with all my heart and so. And for a very long while, that love was reciprocated. We made promises to each other, Isabelle. Promises that your mother didn’t honor.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“We promised...swore to each other that we would reject our mates if we ever met them...” he said and paused, his eyes holding a faraway look in them.  
“Well? Did you meet your mates?” Isabelle urged.  
“Yes. I met mine first,” he said with a smile on his face. “Beautiful woman. She was heartbroken when I rejected her. However, she didn’t accept the rejection. And decades later, I am glad that she held on to hope for me.”  
Isabelle cocked her head to the side and regarded her father in confusion. And then it hit her who his fated mate was.  
“Fiona?!” 
Zane nodded with a smile on his face. And then suddenly, it all made sense to Isabelle. Why did her stepmother hate her so? Why did she alienate her? And deep down, she hated that she had to understand, even with all the suffering she endured. And yet...she did understand.  
“And my mother, did she meet her mate?” 
The smile vanished from her father’s face. “Yes...yes, she did.” 
He had that faraway look in his eyes again. They sat in silence as Zane reminisced on the earlier days when things were simpler, the days before Mira’s fated mate stepped into their lives and ruined the peace and love that they had been experiencing.  
“Well? What happened?” 
“She could not reject him. It was too much for her. And I, like a food, continued to hold on when I should have let go,” he said and cleared the tears away from his throat.  
“She went with him?” 
“She struggled to let go. And then she just gave in and started an affair with him...and then you entered the picture...” 
Zane stared at her intently, as though waiting for her to gain understanding. She cocked her head to the side and stared at him in confusion, and then it hit her. Shock, anger, panic, fear...so many emotions warred inside her together.  
“What? Do you mean that...that man...my mother...that you...” 
Zane nodded his head slowly. “Yes, Isabelle. You’re not my daughter.” 
Tears gathered in her eyes, and she didn’t stop them as they rolled down her cheeks. She buried her face in her palms and cried. Suddenly, it all made sense. The indifference her father always had towards her, the animosity from her stepmother, and stepsister. She was the anomaly, the one who should not have been, the disruptor. Suddenly, she felt guilty, responsible, like it was all her fault.  
Zane came to sit next to her on the couch and pulled her into his arms, holding her to his chest and running his hand through her hair as she cried into his shirt.  
She slowly raised her head to see that he was crying with her. “If it’s not you...then who is it?” She asked.  
“You’ve already met him. The man with markings the same as yours. He is your father, and your mother’s fated mate.” 
Isabelle gasped audibly, her eyes opening wide in shock at the realization. That was why they had the same markings, that was why he wanted her to speak to her father, that was why her mother had apologized profusely. She felt anger and resentment build up inside her. This was all their fault.  
All the unnecessary pain and suffering she had felt through the years was because of them and the terrible decisions they had made. Decisions that had turned her life on its head.  
“Your mother finally took a stand when she was pregnant with you. She rejected him and stayed with me. He didn’t like that very much. He attacked her after you were born and killed her.” 
Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “What does he want with me?” 
Zane shrugged. “I don’t know. But it cannot be good. You have to be strong for the battle ahead. You have to master your powers and get stronger.” 
“But I don’t know how...” 
“I will help you.”