Chapter 70 The Truth
Alpha Jordan was surprised at his daughter's straightforward question, wondering where it came from. "Fernanda, we aren't even fully seated yet." Jordan stated with a small nervous laugh.
Fernanda sighed and adjusted herself properly on the chair. Her father glanced at the Lycan soldier that had accompanied Fernanda in. "Don't worry about him," She assures Jordan.
"Can you now answer my question?" She told him, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Why on Lunareth are you even asking this? Of course I knew your mother before I married her, I wouldn't marry someone I didn't know." Jordan answered, still with a smile on his face.
"And? Or is that all what you have to say?" Fernanda said with a slight scoff. Her father's deliberate act of obliviousness made her blood boil although she did her best to conceal it.
"Daughter, I do not know what direction you are heading with this sudden questions about your mother. Or is there anything you learnt about her that you think I might know about?"
"Father please... Be honest with me for once! For once! It's the least you could do for me as my father. Do not let me be the one to say this, I need to hear it from you." Fernanda snapped, her voice shaky with anger and sadness.
Jordan saw the look on Fernanda's face and knew immediately that the matter was a serious one. He knew that it was time for him to tell her the whole truth about everything. There was no point in lying anymore.
He let out an heavy sigh as he leaned back against his seat, raising his right hand and then dropping it back again. Fernanda could see the frustration and struggle within himself.
"Alright. Alright... I will tell you everything you need to know about your mother now but first you must tell me this." Jordan said, giving his daughter a curious look. "Are you asking about your mother because you've been told you are the catalyst?"
Fernanda raised her brows with a flinch, "So you knew. You knew all this time yet you keep it a secret from me! How could you father?" Her tone was a bit raised.
"Listen my dear, you should know I kept it from you specifically because your mother had insisted I do so. It was for your protection and as your father, I understood that perfectly." Jordan tried to explain.
"Once news got out that the catalyst had been born, many would have been out to get you. And your mother didn't want that. The moment we realized that you were the one spoken about in the prophecy after your birth, your mother and Immediately agreed it was best we protected you and kept your powers a secret." Jordan said, his voice a whisper. He had both hands clasped as he leaned forward.
"Which brings me back to revealing to you whom your mother truly was." Fernanda took in a deep breath when her father said that.
“When your mother and I first met,” Jordan continued quietly, “she was leading a mission for the Order. That night, the shadow wielders had invaded the kingdom, and I was part of Kirill Kozlov’s troop, tasked with driving them back. The battle was brutal, and when it was over, I found her lying unconscious in the rain. She had been bitten by a Lycan. I knew what she was. I knew she was the enemy. But I could not walk away.”
Fernanda sat frozen in her chair.
Every word her father spoke felt like a stone dropping into her chest, heavy and suffocating. She had expected answers, yes, but not this. Not a past so tangled, so dangerous, so deeply rooted in everything she had been running from her entire life.
Jordan drew in a breath before continuing, his gaze distant as though he was no longer sitting across from his daughter but standing once again in the rain-soaked battlefield of his youth.
“I saved your mother that night out of pity,” he admitted. “Or at least, that is what I told myself at the time. I carried her back to my mansion after the shadow wielders were defeated. No one knew. No one could know. Bringing in a shadow wielder was treason, Fernanda. Bringing in their leader would have meant my death.”
Fernanda’s fingers trembled in her lap.
“You hid her?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Jordan nodded. “I hid her. I treated her wounds myself. I was not skilled, not like a healer, but I did what I could. I cleaned the bite. I stitched what I could manage. I stayed by her side every night, terrified she would die and terrified of what would happen if she lived.”
His lips curved into a sad smile.
“She stayed with me for five days,” he continued. “Five days of fever and pain. Five days where I learned her name. Lilith Stone. And by the time she opened her eyes fully, by the time she could speak and stand again… I had already fallen in love with her.”
Fernanda’s breath hitched.
“You loved her before you even knew her,” she murmured.
Jordan chuckled softly. “I knew enough. She was kind even when she was weak. Gentle even when she should have been cruel. When she finally recovered, the first thing she told me was that she had to leave.”
Fernanda’s chest tightened. “And you let her?”
“No,” he admitted. “I begged her to stay. I told her she was not safe. I told her I would protect her. I told her I loved her.”
Fernanda looked up sharply. “You told her that?”
“Yes,” Jordan said. “And she thanked me. She thanked me for my kindness and my hospitality. Then she walked away.”
Silence fell between them.
Fernanda swallowed hard. “But she came back.”
“Two weeks later,” Jordan said. “She returned injured again, but this time it was not from Lycans. It was from the Order. She had spoken out. She tried to convince them that the Lycans were not monsters. That peace was possible. They exiled her for it. Branded her a traitor. Hunted her like an animal.”
His hands clenched together.
“I took her in again. Without hesitation. And this time, she stayed.”
Fernanda felt tears sting her eyes.
“You fell in love properly then,” she said quietly.
“Yes,” Jordan replied. “We did. Slowly. Carefully. She lived as a normal Clawshirean woman. We married not long after. And when she told me she was with child, I had never been happier.”
Fernanda smiled faintly through her tears.
“Untill the earthquake.” she frowned again, “What earthquake?” she asked.
Jordan nodded grimly. “The night you were born, the earth shook violently. And when I held you in my arms… your eyes shone. A light so bright it illuminated the entire mansion. That was when we knew.”
Fernanda’s voice cracked. “That I was the catalyst.”
“Yes.”
She wiped at her cheeks. “The Order sensed it.”
“They did,” Jordan confirmed. “They traced it back to us. They came for you.”
Fernanda leaned forward, her heart pounding. “And my mother fought them.”
“Every single day,” Jordan said softly. “Lilith was a witch. She warded the mansion constantly. Strengthened the barriers every morning and night. She refused to rest.”
His voice faltered.
“I begged her,” he admitted. “I told her the magic was draining her life. That we could run. That I would rather lose everything than lose her. But she would not listen.”
“She said you were worth it,” Jordan continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “That if her life was the price of your survival, she would pay it gladly.”
Tears streamed freely now down Fernanda’s face.
“She died protecting me,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Jordan said. “She died in her sleep. Completely drained. Magical exhaustion.”
Fernanda broke then.
She sobbed openly, the sound raw and unrestrained. Jordan rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms as she clutched at his tunic like a child once more.
“I didn’t know,” she cried. “I didn’t know any of this.”
Behind the doorway, Caroline pressed a hand over her mouth, her face pale with shock as she listened.
When Fernanda finally calmed, she pulled back and whispered, “That means… Damon lied to me.”
Jordan stiffened. “You know Damon?”
Fernanda nodded shakily. “He kidnapped me. He told me my mother abandoned me. That she chose the Order over me.”
Jordan’s eyes darkened dangerously.
“That man,” he said coldly, “was in love with your mother.”
Fernanda froze. “What?”
“He hated the Lycans,” Jordan continued. “He despised Lilith’s compassion. When she refused him as a lover, he convinced the Order to exile her. He took her position as leader of the fifteenth rank.”
Fernanda’s fists clenched. “He caused her death.”
“Yes,” Jordan said. “He led the attack on the night you were born. He kept coming back. Over and over. He is the reason she kept warding the mansion until it killed her.”
Fernanda’s chest burned with rage and grief.
“I believed him,” she whispered. “I let him poison my mind.”
Jordan cupped her face. “You were manipulated.”
She shook her head. “And you married me off because of him.”
“Yes,” Jordan admitted. “Because I failed to protect you. Sebastian Kozlov would never fail.”
Jordan exhaled slowly. “You need to be prepared daughter, that man does not let go,” Jordan continued. “Not of power. Not of obsession. Not of perceived betrayal. He will keep coming, Fernanda. Again and again. Even when he is wounded. Even when he appears defeated.”
Fernanda’s gaze hardened. “Well he wouldn't be able to cause any more trouble than he already has.” she said firmly, wiping off the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand
Jordan frowned slightly, ”What do you meant by that?“
Fernanda straightened. “Damon is dead.”
Jordan blinked. “Dead?”
“Sebastian had his head,” she said firmly and with content.