Her head spun with a hundred questions—so many, she wasn’t sure where to start.
“You said Cass had enemies,” she murmured. “Soldiers from the queen’s legion who are also after me. You mean Atlantean soldiers. That’s who killed him?”
“Yes.” Zael’s face was grim. “Their method left little doubt. They had been pursuing him for a long time on Selene’s orders.”
“Why?” Jordana struggled to keep the memory of the savagery from forming in her mind. “What did he do to her that she would hate him enough to want him killed?”
“For starters, he fell in love with a member of her court. It was forbidden, even for a legion soldier of Cassianus’s renown. But Soraya loved him too,” Zael explained. “For a while, they carried on in secret, meeting anywhere they could. They even risked time together outside the realm, coming here, to this villa.”
It didn’t take much for Jordana to imagine loving someone in defiance of what anyone else wished or expected. When it came to love, she’d learned firsthand that the heart gave itself freely, openly, completely.
Sometimes foolishly.
She met Zael’s solemn look and knew the story he was telling her would not end well for the forbidden lovers.
“So, Cassianus and Soraya … they were my parents?” At his grave nod, she had to ask the other question that sat like a jagged pill on her tongue. “What happened to my mother?”
“She died,” Zael said. “Soraya had you in secret, here in this villa. Cass thought the three of you could be a family together, stay on the run, never go back to the realm. But Raya missed the Atlantean way of life. She missed her home. To please her, Cass returned with Raya and you. Selene was furious. She called for his immediate execution. Raya pleaded for mercy. Selene finally granted it, but at a price.”
Jordana listened, rapt yet heartsick for what her parents had endured. “What did the queen ask in exchange for Cass’s life?”
“She made Raya agree to take a mate of Selene’s choosing and exile with you until you turned twenty-five and your powers came of age. Once that occurred, Raya would be free to return, and you were to take your place as a member of the royal court.”
“But Soraya didn’t accept the queen’s terms?” Jordana guessed.
If she had, Jordana would have never been raised as Martin Gates’s daughter.
She would have never met Nathan.
As much as it hurt to think she’d meant nothing to him, the thought of having never known his touch, or his kiss, or the pleasure they shared, was too bleak to imagine.
Zael shook his head, his voice low. “Raya could not promise to give herself to another man. She begged for a different punishment, but Selene would not be swayed. Finally, on the day Raya and you were to leave the court for your new home, she took a drastic, irrevocable step.”
“What happened?” Jordana whispered, her heart in her throat.
“Raya put you in the palace nursery. Then she went to her chambers, locked herself in, and set the place ablaze. By the time the fire was discovered, it was too late. Even an immortal could not heal from the wounds Raya inflicted on herself.”
Jordana choked on a ragged breath. “And Cassianus? What did he do?”
Zael smiled sadly, proudly. “He did what any loving parent would do. Risked everything to take you away from there and ensure that you had a new life—a better life. One where Selene’s guards wouldn’t find you. Cass wanted you to have a life of your own choosing.”
Except the irony was, as good as her life had been living with Martin Gates as his child, it hadn’t been authentic. She’d lived under the cloak of secrets and half-truths, never really knowing who—or what—she was. She’d never been given the chance to know the two people who brought her into the world and gave up everything, including their lives, because of her.
Two people she missed keenly now, despite having had them in her life so briefly.
“Why did she do it?” Jordana murmured. “Why couldn’t the queen just let them be happy together? Why chase Cass down and kill him after all this time? Why keep her guards searching for me?”
Zael’s tropical blue eyes were steady on her. “Because Soraya was her only child.”
Jordana went still. She shook her head slowly, at a complete and sudden loss for words.
When she couldn’t speak, Zael did it for her. “You, Jordana, are Selene’s granddaughter. You are her only living heir to the Atlantean throne.”
25
IN THE HOUR FOLLOWING CARYS’S ARRIVAL, THE BOSTON COMMAND center buzzed with sober conversation and urgent preparation for a do-or-die sweep of the city.
Gathered in the weapons room along with Nathan, Rafe and Eli and Jax rehashed the team’s game plan for turning the city upside down in their search for the Atlantean bastard who had Jordana. In the corridor outside the war room, Sterling Chase and his mate, Tavia, were attempting to reassure a shattered, sobbing Martin Gates that the Order would do everything in its power to find Jordana quickly and bring her back, safe and sound.
Nathan had no words for anyone. He had no energy to expend on talking or hoping or wishing. He had no patience for consolation or promises that morning wouldn’t be allowed to break without Jordana returned home.
All he had was his determination, his ruthless discipline.
With robotic efficiency, Nathan suited up in his patrol gear. In utter silence—with deadly calm purpose—he zipped and cinched, buckled and tied his black fatigues and combat boots, then strapped on his weapons belt and holsters for multiple firearms.