of hysteria. “I was a pariah as a Reflective. They had a whole jeering section for Beth Jasper. Female—mongrel.”
Gunnar flinches at her wounded tone, grabbing her with his massive hands. “You are no mongrel. You are the daughter of a union between Reflective and Bloodling warriors. That is supremacy, not inferiority.”
Beth's struggles with her painful emotions, moving out from underneath Gunnar's hands.
“I was unaware of your existence,” Gunnar explains.
Beth whirls, facing him. “What? Why?”
“I do not know. Your mother would have her reasons to keep the knowledge of a daughter from me.”
“We do not leave our offspring,” Slade interjects, walking slowly toward Beth as though she's a skittish colt ready to run.
“You did.” Her nearly black eyes pin Gunnar with accusation, but he shakes his head in the face of it.
“No,” he replies softly. “I did not. Your mother understood full well that if I had known I had offspring—especially with her—I would jump here and take you away from this life of hardship.”
A sigh full of longing seeps out of Beth. “Why would she keep me a secret? What could be gained from that? Why would she not claim me herself?” Beth bites her lip to stop its quaking.
A sad uplift touches Gunnar's mouth. “My speculation is she sought to protect you.”
“From what?” Beth’s brows pinch together.
“From whom?” Gunnar looks at Slade, and he clamps down on his expression. Slade believes he knows exactly why Lucinda chose to keep her pregnancy secret. She could have easily hidden the birth if she was willing to compromise the Twelfth.
Slade excavates his memory and finally remembers the second-to-last directive: Disturb not the Continuum.
Yes, it would be possible for Lucinda to go through an entire pregnancy and give birth in any sector other than Ten or One, and no one would have been the wiser, even Gunnar.
“Who raised you?” Slade asks suddenly.
“Adoptive parents.” Beth’s voice is full of unresolved shock.
“The life of a female Reflective is wrought with conflict, and proving yourself constantly,” Gunnar says.
“No shit,” Beth comments with an uneasy laugh.
Gunnar frowns. “Your mother said her life within The Cause was not an easy one.”
“It would have been worse than anything I went through—she was even earlier than I was.” Beth tugs at the end of her braid, working her finger through the tail. “My mother,” she adds softly as though speaking it aloud might conjure her.
He nods solemnly. “She must have seen your role as a female Reflective warrior as the lesser of the two evils.”
Beth smiles, then begins to laugh. She brays like a donkey, slapping her thighs and whooping as tears stream down her face.
Slade and Gunnar glance at each other, frowning in unison.
“Yup! That whole Reflective beat down was a barrel of fucking monkeys to live through.” Beth slaps her chest with her hand. “But now it's what I am.” She bares her teeth at them. “I am Reflective. I was born to be. I just wish to Principle that even one person had been in my corner. And principledamned Rachett knew all along. All along.” Beth's voice begins to warm with her rage.
“And how in hades did I know who you were?” Her eyes leap from Slade's to Gunnar's.
“You are my kin—the fire is proof of that, though it fades after time and proximity.”
Gunnar touches his finger lightly to his own chest.
Beth follows, laying her palm across her own.
“Now what?” she asks, tossing her braid behind her and putting hands to hips.
“Why now, we may return to One, of course” Gunnar says with a self-assured smile.
Slade tenses. Somehow, he doesn't think this is how Dimitri sees things happening.
Beth's brows knot, and her mouth opens and closes. Her lips part again. “Uh—no. I'm not going anywhere,” she replies slowly, as though Gunnar is a somewhat dimwitted child, and throws out her palms. “The Cause must be restored. I have unfinished business—Threes who need me, and Jeb—” Beth bites her lip, and Slade is instantly on alert at the mention of the Reflective male’s name. He reads her face and scents her emotions. He knows the taste of her blood.
Even now, the remnants pound through his veins.
Slade senses Reflective Merrick thinks to claim Beth.
Over my dead blood.
Beth lifts her face to Gunnar, hands flying to settle on her hips again in clear dismissal. “I am Reflective. I will not be remanded to One. It's not where I belong.”
Gunnar steps forward, never breaking eye contact with Beth. “It is the only place you shall ever belong.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Merrick
“Beth!” Jeb roars, spinning