Destined for Deception ✔️

Chapter 3

"Where have you been?" Corbin asked. Ryleigh found him in the bedroom of the shack they shared, gazing out of one of the windows at the thick forest surrounding the mansion – or what had once, in a different era, been worthy to be called a mansion.

"I see we're past greetings now," Ryleigh said. She closed the door – not that that would shelter them from prying ears. She could only hope that none of the others were close enough to overhear.

"As long as you keep sneaking off all the time, yes, we're past greetings," Corbin said. His hands were linked behind his back, his posture as rigid as ever. Much as Ryleigh had grown to distrust her father, what she felt most of all right then was sympathy. He didn't bother looking at her and she was glad for it. For once she didn't think she could keep a straight face. Not with what she was about to tell him.

Ryleigh let her eyes wander through the room. There were two beds, and a rickety chair in one corner. She walked over to the chair and grabbed it, wiggling it around a bit to see if it would hold. It did. She placed it in the middle of the room and gestured towards it. "Sit."

Corbin turned around then, regarding her with slightly curved brows. "I see we're giving orders now."

"Father." Ryleigh's fingers bent around the backrest of the chair, nails digging into the wood.

His eyes searched her face. "What is it?"

No matter how much rancour currently existed between them, they were father and daughter, alpha and heir. They had been each other's confidants all those years. They had been bound together through their shared hatred for Alder. No one understood the other's dysfunctional determination better than they did. Whatever had happened, Ryleigh wasn't ready to let go of him. Her mother's memory had been defiled. Everything Ryleigh had thought she knew about that woman had turned out to be a lie. She couldn't lose her faith in Corbin too. Not now.

"Do you trust me?" Ryleigh asked.

He cocked his head just a sliver of an inch. No emotion played on his features, and she expected nothing else. His mask was masterfully crafted. He rarely let it slip, but she had a feeling that this conversation might turn out to be an exception. How was he going to react when she told him Cerise was alive? What was he going to do? He remembered seeing her die. Cerise had faked the worst of his memories. She had torn his heart apart, had stamped on the pieces, had laughed while she did so.

Had he known? Had he known that Cerise didn't love him? Ryleigh had always been convinced that her mother loved her father, but she knew that children often believed what they wanted to believe, rather than what they actually saw. Corbin might have known Cerise's true nature. He had to have known. How do you live with someone for so long and not know? And yet he had been heartbroken when Cerise supposedly died. And he believed it. He never for a second doubted that Cerise was dead. Otherwise he would have told Ryleigh to fix his memory ages ago. Otherwise he would have hunted Cerise to the edge of the world. Otherwise he wouldn't have spent close to fifteen years plotting to kill the man he held responsible for the murder of his mate.

"What's going on, Ryleigh?" he asked.

"I need you to trust me." She wrenched one of her hands away from the chair. Her feet were unsteady. Her legs trembled. She pungently remembered how her entire life had shook on its foundation when she uncovered the truth. It must be worse for Corbin. She held out her hand to him.

"You want to use your magic on me?" he said, something closely remembering a scornful smile playing on his lips. Perhaps he thought she was trying to return the favour. That she wanted to alter his memory in such a way that she could rise to power. If the circumstances had been different, he might have been right to be wary of her intentions.