Prologue:
I never knew who Christian Blake was.
Apparently, he was my father, but he died when I was still a baby.
Dad used to say that he sacrificed his life for us, but why did he have to do it?
Why did he have to leave us?
Why did he have to sacrifice his life?
What happened before I was born?
The mystery of who my father was was the thing that pushed me to continue forward. Dad’s stories about him were vague, it’s as if he’s trying his hardest not to let me know who his husband was.
All I knew about him was that he was his high school sweetheart and that they went through a lot to get me back from the people who caused all this.
Who were those people?
What did they want from my parents?
There were so many questions and yet dad wouldn’t give me the answers that I needed to know who Christian Blake was.
I knew for a fact that I’m not a normal child. I possessed abilities that science wouldn’t be able to explain.
My physical attributes were different, I don’t age like the kids around me. I’m in this eternal youthful state that people would mistake me for a teenager when I’m already in my mid-thirties.
Even dad couldn’t explain all that.
I stared at my face in front of the mirror, annoyed that I had to wear contact lenses to cover up my unusual eyes. Not a lot of people had purple eyes. Wait, scratch that. I’m probably the only person in this world who had this eye color. It didn’t help that my skin was so pale that people would immediately notice my peculiar features.
Was I cursed when I was a baby?
Did Christian Blake look like this? Because dad doesn’t look like me. In fact, I don’t look like him at all when he was the one who gave birth to me.
It’s still strange to know that your mother was a man who could conceive babies because they’re Omegas. But what’s even weirder was that they could only be impregnated by their Alphas.
Not being able to choose your partner. Sounds horrible.
Did dad fall for Christian Blake the second he saw him? Was he that handsome? I wouldn’t know since dad didn’t have any photos of him for me to judge.
“Avery!”
I jolted when I heard dad call me. “I’m coming!” I yelled back. I threw my stuff in my satchel, closed it, and hurried out of the room before dad could drag me away. The loud stomps echoed in the small house that dad owned on Fiji island. Up to this day, I still don’t understand why I’m as white as paper when I had lived on a tropical island for years.
I shook my head as I remembered what dad used to say. It doesn’t matter what I looked like. As long as we’re together, nothing could go wrong.
I entered the dining room and saw dad in front of the stove, cooking breakfast. “What took you so long to get ready?” he asked.
“Just admiring my face in the mirror,” I answered as sarcastically as I could. “Do you know how hard it is to put on contact lenses every damn morning?”
“Language, kid,” he snapped, playfully glaring at me.
I rolled my eyes. “You asked a question. I just answered,” I said. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Omelet. Your favorite.” I watched him put the eggs on a plate along with bacon and toast. “Eat up. Today’s a long day.”
Every day’s a long day. I wished I could go to school like any ordinary kid. But dad said it’s not safe to leave the house. The nearest school was miles away from our house which was in the middle of the jungle. We had to live in isolation because there were bad people trying to find us. And if they did, they wouldn’t think twice about hurting us.
“I’m going to be eighteen tomorrow, dad. Are you still not going to tell me why we’re hiding out here?”
I knew that there was life out there, right outside the lush trees and bushes that surrounded me my entire life. Dad brought me once to the city to meet a friend and I saw how big the world was—people that looked like dad but doesn’t look like me. It helped me realize that I was one of a kind.
But that didn’t stop me from dreaming big.
I wanted to do normal things that normal people do every day. They get to go anywhere, anytime.
“Do I really need to come with you?”
“Yes, we’re going fishing today. Aren’t you excited?” dad asked.
I pouted. “Sure. But I suck at fishing. They don’t like me.”
Dad turned the stove off and sat on the chair across from me. “Then what do you want to do, Ave?” he sounded so gentle that it hurt. Dad was strict but he would always do anything I asked him for, as long as it was safe. “After we fish, we can do whatever you want. For your birthday.”
“I…”
When I was a kid, I used to tell dad that my birthday wish was for Christian Blake to come back to us. He’d drop his smile the moment I said it, and he’d give me a pained smile. He would explain that Christian will never come back and that we had to learn how to live without him.
Years had passed, and my birthday wish remained.
I want Christian Blake to come back.
“I want to go to the city,” I said, forcing a smile at dad. “We can pick my gift together, dad.”
Dad smiled in relief. “Of course. As long as we’re together.” He took my hand and held it tight. “I’ll protect you with all my life, Avery. I promise.”
I ignored the callouses on his hand and gripped it.
“I know, dad.”
I know.
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