Chapter 629 Fear
"You’re not human either," Amelia said blankly.
"Yes," Dante said.
And as he spoke, his eyes changed.
Crimson red. Deep and dark, burning like embers in a fire. His horns emerged from his temples, curving back sleek and sharp, catching the light.
Aunt Lyla made a small, strangled squeak.
Her face went pale, then green, then white again. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and her hand flew to her chest as if checking that her heart was still beating.
"Oh," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Oh my."
She wobbled. Her knees buckled slightly.
Alina stepped forward quickly, grabbing her aunt’s arm. "Aunt Lyla, sit down. Please."
Lyla didn’t argue. She collapsed into the chair again, fanning herself with her hand, her eyes wide and fixed on Dante’s horns. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps.
Amelia was staring at Dante. Her face was pale. Her hands were trembling. But unlike her sister, she did not look away.
She stood up. Slowly, carefully, she walked toward him.
Alina’s heart pounded. "Mom—"
Amelia held up her hand, silencing her daughter.
She stopped in front of Dante.
She was so much smaller than him. So much frailer. Her thin hair barely covered her head, but her eyes were firm, steady, and gentle despite the fear lurking beneath.
For a long moment, she just looked at him. At his crimson eyes. At his sharp horns. At the shadows that curled at his feet like loyal pets.
Then she spoke.
"So," she said, her voice calm, though the slight tremor gave her away. "You want to be with my daughter?"
Dante nodded slowly. "Yes," he said.
Amelia’s jaw tightened. "Are you sure your kind will agree?"
Dante’s crimson eyes didn’t waver. His voice was low, absolute. "I am the Shadow Lord. They have no choice."
Amelia’s eyebrows twitched. "The Shadow Lord," she repeated, as if tasting the words.
"Yes," Dante said.
Amelia crossed her arms over her chest, her frail frame somehow drawing itself taller. "And your people... they will accept a human?"
Dante’s expression softened, just slightly. A hint of warmth entered his burning eyes. "They will accept her because I accept her. Because I love her. Because she is my mate."
Amelia was quiet for a moment. Her eyes searched his face, his horns, his eyes. She was looking for a lie. For doubt. For anything that would give her a reason to say no.
She found nothing.
Then she asked, her voice softer now, almost fragile. "Are you sure you will be able to protect her?"
Dante met her gaze without flinching. His voice was like iron wrapped in velvet.
"With my life," he said. "With my power. With everything I have."
He paused. His eyes softened further. Then he said, quietly, "Don’t worry, Mom. I will protect her. I want to marry her. She will be my queen."
Mom.
MOM!!!
He had called her Mom.
Amelia’s eyes filled with tears. Her lips pressed together, trembling. A single tear escaped and rolled down her pale cheek.
She looked at Alina, at her daughter’s hopeful, terrified face. At the way Alina’s hands were clasped together, her knuckles white, her eyes wet.
She looked at Dante. At the horns. At the crimson eyes. At the shadows that danced at his feet. At the man who had just called her Mom.
Then she looked at Lucien and Sable. They were looking at her hopefully with their innocent eyes, Sable’s shadow butterfly fluttering beside him.
A small smile broke through Amelia’s fear.
She wiped her tear with the back of her hand and nodded.
"I agree," she said.
Alina’s sob broke free.
She threw her arms around her mother, burying her face in her shoulder. Her body shook with tears. "Thank you, Mom. Thank you."
Amelia held her tightly, her thin arms wrapped around her daughter. She stroked Alina’s hair, her own tears falling silently. "I want to see you happy," she whispered. "That’s all I’ve ever wanted."
She pulled back and looked at Dante. Her eyes were red, but her voice was steady.
"Take care of her."
Dante placed a hand over his heart. "I will."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
Amelia nodded. She looked at Alina one more time, then stepped back.
She looked at her sister.
Lyla was still sitting in the chair, fanning herself, her face still pale. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly.
Alina turned to her. "Aunt Lyla?" she said softly.
Lyla looked up.
Her eyes were wide. Her mouth was slightly open. She looked like she had seen a ghost, or perhaps something much more terrifying. A strand of hair had escaped her bun and was stuck to her sweaty forehead.
"Are you... are you okay?" Alina asked, crouching beside her.
Lyla nodded slowly. Then she nodded again, as if convincing herself.
Then she stood up, wobbling slightly, and walked over to Dante. She stopped a few feet away and stared at his horns, at his eyes, at his tall powerful frame.
She took a deep, shaky breath.
"You’ll make her happy?" she asked, her voice high and thin.
Dante inclined his head. "Yes."
Lyla swallowed. "You’ll keep her safe?"
"With my life," Dante said.
Lyla stared at him for another long moment. Then she let out a long breath, like air escaping a balloon.
"Then I suppose... I suppose I agree too," she said.
She held out her hand. It was trembling.
Dante looked at it. Then he took it, gently, carefully, as if afraid he might break her. His large dark hand engulfed her small pale one.
"Thank you," he said.
Lyla nodded quickly and pulled her hand back. She wiped her palm on her skirt and stepped away, standing beside her sister.
And finally, Alina felt something lift off her shoulders.
She looked at her mother. At her aunt. At Dante. At Lucien and Sable, who were now holding hands and smiling.
She felt happy.
For the rest of the day, she gave them a tour. She told them about her little students and their little chaotic stories.
By the time the sun set, her mom and aunt looked much better. The fear was gone from their eyes. The trembling had stopped and that made Alina happy.