121 Flesh and Blood
Ophelia finally understood why. Why Matriarch Eves loved Roselind more than Ophelia. Why Aaron preferred Ophelia over Roselind. As a child, Ophelia always found it strange that her grandfather only seemed to care for her, not Roselind. The blood of House Eves flowed through Ophelia. Did Matriarch Eves truly believe Roselind shared Aaron's blood?
"I never told my mother that Roselind wasn't my own flesh and blood," Aaron muttered. "For all my mother knew, I was a disappointing son who brought back a woman pregnant with my illegitimate daughter. That was the story your mother and I stuck with."
Ophelia grew dizzy. Her vision blurred, as objects seemed to double in front of her. She leaned back, only to meet Killorn's warm embrace. Strong. Stable. He was there for her. Always. At least, she hoped.
"She never wanted me," Ophelia realized, glancing to the side, her heart splitting open in her chest. She bit her bottom lips in an attempt to hide the crumble of her expression. She had never met the woman or felt the caress of a mother before. The idea was foreign. But to think her own mother didn't want her…
"You're wrong," Aaron reasoned. "I believed, to an extent, she wanted you more than life. Even when she assumed she was pregnant with another daughter, she kept you. I think she… was just worried about not presenting House Eves with an heir. She saw it as her duty to repay me when I truly didn't care."
Ophelia laughed under her breath, glancing down at her hands. "Y-you don't have to comfort me."
"Sweetheart," Aaron chided. "I—"
"Don't," Ophelia warned, squaring her shoulders, despite the agony gnawing at her. She had grown up all her life feeling unwanted. She told herself she was fine with that. "You've changed," Aaron realized, the words startling her. "You've developed a voice for yourself."
Ophelia swallowed. From beside her, she could feel Killorn's intense stare. Intimidating as usual. He was watching her every move. Every twitch of emotion. She could feel the heat seep from his large body, wrapping her in a blanket of comfort.
"I can't stay for long," Aaron stated. "My mother wants me back soon. Roselind's been lonely ever since you left."
Right. Ophelia was rarely close with her sister, ever since that horrid incident a decade ago. The vampire attack that nearly tarnished her reputation. "B-by chance," Ophelia slowly said. "D-do you know w-why I am under t-the Vampire and Werewolf Overlords protection?"
"I… cannot say?" Aaron said, the words coming out like a question. "But I do have a present for you." Ophelia raised a brow. So much secrecy. She turned to Killorn, expecting him to respond. Her cheeks flushed upon his fiery gaze. What was he thinking about?
"Your mother's diary," Aaron murmured, taking out a book from his satchel. "She wrote this during her birth with you. Though, I never understood the language. She said it was her native tongue, but never mentioned where she was from. For the two and a half years I've spent with her, she rarely remembered anything of her past."
"She must've been beautiful," Killorn suddenly commented. "For a wise man to be bewitched and believe every word she uttered."
"You'd believe Ophelia if she told you the sky was purple," Aaron chortled with a pointed glare. They were both fools for their wives.
Killorn glowered. The room turned icy. Stifling. His freightsome gaze had the man by the chokehold. Aaron tried to not back down, from father to son-in-law. "C-can I see the diary?" Ophelia asked, attempting to ease the tension.
"Of course." Aaron reached over, attempting to rise to his feet, but Ophelia quickly stood and took it from him with two outstretched, respectful hands. Ophelia examined the worn-out leather. She ran her fingertips against the empty cover, wondering what her mother must've felt in an unfamiliar house, with strangers, and amnesia. She exhaled, carefully opening the pages, careful of the aged spine. Her throat tightened. She was aware of every pair of eyes on her. Of every exhale. Her shoulders were heavy with realization. From beside her, Killorn leaned closer, examining the contents.
"I feel like I've seen this character before," Ophelia pointed out, pointing at a specific one. Where was it from? She narrowed her eyes. "At the top, what's this?"
Aaron peered carefully. "I believe that is how she wrote her name in her language. Selene, in English."
"Selene," Ophelia repeated, testing the name on your tongue. She felt no connection to the presence or name, but Killorn stiffened from beside her. "Are you certain she said her name was Selene?" Killorn pressed, his gaze darkening. "Spell it out for me."
"Sound it out yourself," Aaron snorted, much to Ophelia's pleading glance for the two to get along. He was human. Killorn could rip his head off any second, and no one would bat an eye. "S-e-l-e-n-e. Selene."
Killorn shot to his feet in disbelief. "Worshiped at the new and full moons, the personification of the moon as a goddess. The only mother and deity the werewolves will ever acknowledge, and once upon a time, the vampires worshiped at her feet alongside us. And that woman's name was Selene." Ophelia swallowed.
"No mother, be it human, werewolf, or vampire, would dare to name their daughter Selene. None were that foolish. And no woman would dare to claim that as their name," Killorn snarled. Aaron sighed. "The theory that you've implied is something my father long told me—"
"What?!" Ophelia demanded. "Grandfather knew?"
"You set me up," Killorn seethed, storming towards Aaron. He grabbed the man by the collar, yanking him closer. "Why did she choose you?" he snarled. "Why would the moon goddess choose a mere mortal to be the seed of her child? What makes you so special?"
"Killorn!" Ophelia cried out, rushing and grabbing his arm. He could easily shake her off, to throw her onto the ground. He had all the power in the world to hurt her. But instead, he seized her waist, tightly, his knuckles shaking to get ahold of himself. "I do not know," Aaron swore, picking up his cane and standing, his expression darkening. "If I had known her true identity, which, I do not believe is who you claim, I would've still saved her. She was an unconscious woman buried in the snow. You would've done the same."
Killorn narrowed his eyes. "Do you know what you're claiming right now? What you're accusing your daughter of being?"
Aaron didn't back down. "I knew the coincidence was too much to ignore," he softly said. "I am a learned scholar, who did nothing, but read, and read, and read. You'd think I wouldn't have known her identity? To not have heard of the rumors of people of her appearance?"
Ophelia's breath hitched. The world as she knew it was yanked from underneath her. This whole time, she thought her father knew nothing. That he was just an innocent bystander.
"I knew who and what Ophelia was and could be the minute she was born and peered up at me with those violet eyes of hers, head shimmering with silver hair. Born during a full moon, where my wife's hair glowed as she screamed in agony to push out the replica image of her?" Aaron retorted. "It is just as everyone has claimed and that is why you were chosen as her husband."
Ophelia felt like fainting. She staggered, but was firmly held in place by Killorn. Hearing the full truth from her father, she couldn't process her emotions. Was it betrayal? Relief? Disappointment? Disbelief?
"So it's true," Ophelia stated, tears filling her eyes. She didn't want to believe it. She didn't want to hear the words from his mouth. That she was the very thing that men wanted to tear apart. To devour. To use until she bled to death.
"It is," Aaron acknowledged. "Ophelia Eves, you are the true Direct Descendent of the Moon." Dec 7, 2023 author's note: I thought these 3 chapters were published automatically, but it seems there was a bug in the timer :( My apologies, I'll check more often from now on!
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