Read Online HER SWEETEST DOWNFALL (Paranormal Romance / Fantasy Novella) (Forever Girl Series - a Journal) by rebecca hamilton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: rebecca hamilton
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ease.
“He hates himself, you know.” Her expression relaxed into something more human. “He couldn’t control his shifting. He couldn’t fight becoming something he didn’t wish to be.”
“That’s why ‘e ran off?” Ophelia asked. “Instead of . . . of . . . ”
“Are you disappointed?” Lenore arched her eyebrow, smirking. How could she be so candid at a time like this? She nodded toward the path. “Come. Let’s get you back to the cabin.”
Once Ophelia was certain they were safe, new concerns tumbled into her mind. Ethan has been right. It hadn’t been her mother. How had Ophelia been fooled, but Ethan had known? And if Robert was one of the Strigoi, how many secrets had her mother kept?
Her mother had always said that the Strigoi were honorable, but clearly Robert was not. Had her mother told her those stories in hopes of preparing Ophelia, should she ever be pulled into this world? If so, why hadn’t she been completely forthright?
Perhaps Mother had hoped it would never really come to this .
Now she would never know, and she needed to accept it was no longer safe for her to entertain her childish fantasies of reuniting with her mother. Her mother gone. Truly and forever.
Ophelia had always thought accepting her mother’s death would end all purpose in her life. That, without her mother, there would be nothing worth living for. Ethan changed all that. Ophelia would go through with the transformation and live her life with this new purpose of helping some girl she didn’t know. She would do it in memory of those she had loved—those who had been stolen from this world far too soon.
Damascus, 1808
After promising to return in the evening to prepare for Ophelia’s transformation, Lenore left for the day. When the cabin door fell shut behind the Cruor, Ophelia turned to Ethan, her hurt and anger rushing through her in a violent upsurge.
“Why?” She lunged toward him and pounded her fist against his chest. “Why didn’t ye tell me it was him?”
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. Ophelia still pushed, wishing to get away from him and to hurt him at the same time.
“Please, Ophelia,” Ethan whispered, and she froze at the pained tone in his voice. His eyes were moist and his expressed strained. “I wanted to come for you.”
Wanted to? She shook her head. No words were worthy of the moment. All she could do was stand there, searching his eyes for answers to the questions that swarmed through her mind.
Ophelia swallowed around the tightness in her throat. The hurt and anger threatened to rush back. “Go on.”
“I told you not to go,” he said. “If I’d stopped you from going, would you have ever forgiven me? Would you have ever trusted me enough to continue with what needed to be done?”
She bit her lip, but there was nothing she could say. She couldn’t trust him any more for allowing her to leave than she would have if he’d stopped her from leaving. And she couldn’t trust herself. She’d known, somewhere deep down, that her mother was dead. She’d known, yet she’d allowed herself to be fooled, all because of her childish desire to believe her mother was still alive.
Her heart longed to forgive him, but she could not push aside the feelings of abandonment. Her parents had kept the truth from her, and it left her helpless. How could Ethan do the same? Why hadn’t he warned her of these things sooner?
“Ye could have tried ‘arder to stop me.”
“How?” His fists clenched at his side. “By grabbing you and dragging you back inside?”
She shook her head, and unease twisted in her stomach. Was he right—that she would not have listened to him anyway?
“It would have been worth it,” Ethan said, his voice dropping into tones of defeat. “The exposure to the sun. But our world is one of power and deceit. You needed to see for yourself. I allowed it this time, knowing I could soon have Lenore ready to come to your rescue. Or you
“He hates himself, you know.” Her expression relaxed into something more human. “He couldn’t control his shifting. He couldn’t fight becoming something he didn’t wish to be.”
“That’s why ‘e ran off?” Ophelia asked. “Instead of . . . of . . . ”
“Are you disappointed?” Lenore arched her eyebrow, smirking. How could she be so candid at a time like this? She nodded toward the path. “Come. Let’s get you back to the cabin.”
Once Ophelia was certain they were safe, new concerns tumbled into her mind. Ethan has been right. It hadn’t been her mother. How had Ophelia been fooled, but Ethan had known? And if Robert was one of the Strigoi, how many secrets had her mother kept?
Her mother had always said that the Strigoi were honorable, but clearly Robert was not. Had her mother told her those stories in hopes of preparing Ophelia, should she ever be pulled into this world? If so, why hadn’t she been completely forthright?
Perhaps Mother had hoped it would never really come to this .
Now she would never know, and she needed to accept it was no longer safe for her to entertain her childish fantasies of reuniting with her mother. Her mother gone. Truly and forever.
Ophelia had always thought accepting her mother’s death would end all purpose in her life. That, without her mother, there would be nothing worth living for. Ethan changed all that. Ophelia would go through with the transformation and live her life with this new purpose of helping some girl she didn’t know. She would do it in memory of those she had loved—those who had been stolen from this world far too soon.
Damascus, 1808
After promising to return in the evening to prepare for Ophelia’s transformation, Lenore left for the day. When the cabin door fell shut behind the Cruor, Ophelia turned to Ethan, her hurt and anger rushing through her in a violent upsurge.
“Why?” She lunged toward him and pounded her fist against his chest. “Why didn’t ye tell me it was him?”
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. Ophelia still pushed, wishing to get away from him and to hurt him at the same time.
“Please, Ophelia,” Ethan whispered, and she froze at the pained tone in his voice. His eyes were moist and his expressed strained. “I wanted to come for you.”
Wanted to? She shook her head. No words were worthy of the moment. All she could do was stand there, searching his eyes for answers to the questions that swarmed through her mind.
Ophelia swallowed around the tightness in her throat. The hurt and anger threatened to rush back. “Go on.”
“I told you not to go,” he said. “If I’d stopped you from going, would you have ever forgiven me? Would you have ever trusted me enough to continue with what needed to be done?”
She bit her lip, but there was nothing she could say. She couldn’t trust him any more for allowing her to leave than she would have if he’d stopped her from leaving. And she couldn’t trust herself. She’d known, somewhere deep down, that her mother was dead. She’d known, yet she’d allowed herself to be fooled, all because of her childish desire to believe her mother was still alive.
Her heart longed to forgive him, but she could not push aside the feelings of abandonment. Her parents had kept the truth from her, and it left her helpless. How could Ethan do the same? Why hadn’t he warned her of these things sooner?
“Ye could have tried ‘arder to stop me.”
“How?” His fists clenched at his side. “By grabbing you and dragging you back inside?”
She shook her head, and unease twisted in her stomach. Was he right—that she would not have listened to him anyway?
“It would have been worth it,” Ethan said, his voice dropping into tones of defeat. “The exposure to the sun. But our world is one of power and deceit. You needed to see for yourself. I allowed it this time, knowing I could soon have Lenore ready to come to your rescue. Or you
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