Chapter 109

Jackson’s eyes go wide for a second with worry as my dad focuses singularly on him and takes one single, dangerous step in his direction.

“Dominic!” my mother snaps, and then she’s moving quickly between my dad and my mate, turning and holding a hand up in front of my father’s face. “Think about what you’re doing right now, let alone the impression you’re making!”

The growl dies in my father’s throat as he blinks, hard and refocuses on my mom. “The…the impression? Ella, this man’s scent is all over our child, he’s claiming her as his mate, and you want me to worry about first impressions!?”

“Dominic,” mom murmurs, stepping closer and shocking me by laughing a little bit. Slowly she stands on her tiptoes and takes his face in her hands. “Don’t you get it? He didn’t claim her as his mate – the Goddess fated them. And if I know my daughter as well as I think I do, then I’d be willing to bet a lot of money that Ariel had more to do with this than poor Jackson did.”

Dad stares at mom for a long moment before turning to look at me.

I just shrug, feeling awkward and…well, old. Because my entire life I’ve been dad’s little girl, and now here I am…introducing him to my mate.

Suddenly overwhelmed, my eyes fill with tears. “Yeah,” I say, shrugging again, not knowing what to do. “I’ve…I’ve known since the first day as a candidate, dad. I told Jackson…yesterday.”

My lip trembles as my dad stares at me, shocked, and I can’t help the tears that start to slip down my cheeks. I also don’t miss the three steps forward that Jackson takes towards me before Rafe grabs his arm, hauling him back.

“Be nice to him, dad,” I squeak out. “He’s…he’s really nice, okay?”

Dad stares at me for a long, long moment before he lets out a long, long groan, covering his face with his hands and tilting his head back towards the ceiling. Aunt Cora scooches closer to me, giving me a quick hug and then wiping the tears from my cheeks, whispering that it’s all right.

I nod to her, understanding, but still feeling overwhelmed. I keep my eyes on the four people standing in the room.

Jackson and Rafe stand still, waiting for my dad to decide what he’s going to do next. Mom steps close to dad, wrapping an arm around his waist and waiting patiently until he drops his hands from his face, folding his arms around her and sighing deeply before looking down at her.

“I wasn’t ready for this today, Ella,” he murmurs, glancing back at me. “I wasn’t ready for our little girl to grow up.”

“Well, we’ve still got the meatball,” she murmurs, pointing at Rafe. I laugh, unable to help it, as Rafe scowls. He hates his nickname. “He hasn’t left us yet. And Markie and Juniper. Or Ariel – not really.” She smiles at him. “Kids grow. It’s what they do.” She stands on her toes. “It’s a good day, Dominic.”

Dad presses a kiss to her mouth and then nods once, sighing again. “A good day.” Then he turns to me and holds a hand out. Cora helps me stand and then I wheel my little IV over to my dad’s side, slipping my hand in his as the three of us turn to face Jackson, who suddenly looks completely freaked out.

I smirk, a little tickled by the idea that he was ready to take on my dad when dad was about to slash him to pieces. But meeting my father in a calm, pleasant way? He looks ready to bolt.

“All right, Ariel,” dad murmurs, his voice grumbling as he squeezes my hand in his. “Introduce me to your young man.”

And so I do.

Introductions are quick, largely formal, and a little awkward, with dad shaking Jackson’s hand and asking him some questions about who he is, what he’s studying, how we met. Jackson’s face gets redder and redder as he stumbles through the interrogation, and I’m basically melting with second-hand embarrassment, but Rafe saves me.

One look at Rafe’s wide grin, at the way he watches Jackson with a little bit of good-humored delight at how horribly awkward he’s being, and I burst into laughter.

Mom and Rafe start laughing too, and dad looks down at me with surprise as I shake my head at him and move to Jackson’s side, slipping my hand into my mate’s and giving it a squeeze. “Dad, please, you’re killing him, all right?”

Dad stares at me and then up at Jackson again. “What?” he asks. “I was just being polite –“

“Jacks is…not great with polite,” I say, pressing myself warmly to his side. “Actually, I think he’d probably rather fight you than do the small talk thing.”

Jackson scowls, already coming back to himself a little. “Ari, I don’t want to fight him –“

“I know,” I say, nodding and smiling up into his face. “Just – can we all maybe take a bit of space? Try this again over midwinter, maybe over dinner?”

“Or an activity,” Rafe suggests, knowing that even a dinner might be a bit much for Jacks. “Or a great, great deal of whiskey – barrels of it.”

“Enough,” dad snaps good-heartedly at Rafe, waving a dismissive hand at all of us as he turns away. “Fine, fine! We’ll do it all later! I need much more information anyway.”

I grin after him as he walks to the bed with mom at his side, and then I grin between Jacks and Rafe.

“You did great, Jacks,” I whisper, supportive.

“I didn’t…say anything,” he murmurs, glancing after my parents. “Besides, like, my name –“

“But you did that so well,” Rafe says with humorous condescension, patting him on his shoulder with a laugh. I laugh too and Jackson gives a tentative smile, I think giving into it.

Jacks opens his mouth, I think to ask a question, but the door opens again – suddenly, I long for a lock on it – and a professor I don’t recognize comes into the room.

“Um,” he says, looking around, a clipboard in his hand. “I’m looking for Cadets Sinclair, McClintock, and Clark?”

Rafe steps hastily in front of me, asking whether the professor is looking for Jesse or Rafe Sinclair, and in the intervening moment Jackson hands me his cap, which was apparently tucked into his back pocket. Hastily, I loop my hair up onto my head and whip the cap on top. It’s too big, but, in a pinch, it works.

When the professor reveals that he’s looking for Rafe Sinclair, Rafe glances back at me and then nods to him, letting him know that we’re all here.

“Oh, good,” the professor says, looking anxiously over at the King, Queen, and Duchess standing quietly together by the bed, perhaps wondering what the hell is going on. But he doesn’t say anything about that, instead clearing his throat and consulting his paper.

“Well,” he says with a sigh, “the three of you have been marked as passing the Examination –“

I squeal suddenly with delight, throwing myself into Jackon’s arms. He laughs with me, turning me in a circle, giving me a big hug. When we go all the way around before we see the professor at the door giving us a strange look. Jackson just clears his throat and awkwardly lowers me to the floor.

“So,” my mother says, interrupting as the professor starts speaking again. “It’s not an issue that Cadet…Clark…” here she glances at me, and inwardly I cringe at how obvious she’s being, “was carried wounded over the finish line?”

“No, highness,” the professor says, giving her a deferential bow. “The rules are to cross the finish line, full stop. I think,” he glances at my dad here, “they were written that way with this express situation in mind.”

My mouth falls open a bit as I realize that my dad knew this all along because he wrote the rule book – that it’s not a surprise to him, at all, that I’ve passed.

Dad catches my glare and just gives me a little shrug, telling me to deal with it. I roll my eyes at him but let it pass – he’s had a stressful day too.

The professor continues. “Sinclair and McClintock have been given orders to return to the Academy tonight,” he says, lowering the clipboard to his side. “Though Clark has been given special permission to stay overnight to ensure that there are no complications to his injuries. Though…”

He hesitates, not finishing and looking at me strangely because obviously I’m standing before him perfectly hale. I just shrug, not explaining anything.

“Absolutely not,” Jackson growls, stepping forward towards the professor. “I am not leaving Clark here alone.”

The professor steps back, shocked by the defiance and the aggression in Jackson’s eyes.