Gift of Fire by C.L. Carhart

Author:C.L. Carhart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary urban fantasy, demons, elemental magic, enemies to lovers romance, fairies, fantasy romance, female heroine, love, magic and witches, paranormal romance, series starter, urban fantasy romance, witches
ISBN: 9781954807167
Publisher: C.L. Carhart
Published: 2022-12-10T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen:

Unmoored

Everything froze in the parlor for several seconds. My lungs began to gasp for air as my entire world crumbled to dust. My mother . . . was not my mother? I had not been born in Erlangen? But her name was on my birth certificate alongside my father’s name and the name of the hospital downtown. This made no sense.

“Let’s go in another room and talk about this. Gabi.” My father rose to his feet with a grunt, his face ashen as he held out a hand to me.

“You mean . . . we’re only . . . half siblings?” Dennis asked in a broken voice, a dress shirt and tie lying forgotten in his lap. He sat on the floor beside the tree like he had during our childhood, his face crumpling when his gray eyes caught hold of mine. I had frozen on the couch, my fire extinguished. Unmoored.

“Dennis, you and your mother can continue opening your presents. The rest of us will join you shortly for dinner.” My father seemed the only anchor in this storm, taking charge of the situation despite the distress evident in his mien. Our gazes met, and he bobbed his head toward the hallway, his hand still stretched out.

Lukas slid the fingers of his left hand through my right, somehow sensing I needed a foundation to cling to in this unforeseen moment. He helped me to my feet and guided me toward where my father stood, prepared to stand with me while I confronted the unknown. I could not gather the courage to take my father’s hand, betrayal adding itself to my inner tumult. Why had he lied to me for twenty-eight years? Why had he not told me the truth before I left Erlangen so long ago?

We followed my father up the stairs and into the study, the room that had once been my bedroom. No wonder my “mother” had thrown my bed away and boxed up all of my stuff the instant I moved out. I was not her child. She wanted me gone. My entire life was a lie.

When my father closed the door behind us and turned on the overhead lamp, I released my first question, my fingers clasping Lukas’ in a death grip. “Who is my real mother?”

Pain shot across my father’s face as he slumped into the leather armchair, the fingers of his left hand reaching out to stroke the aloe vera plant growing from a pot on the side table. Seeking comfort in earth’s bounty. Nice for him. This room had no fireplace to soothe my element, which had retreated into my spirit like an exile.

“Her name was Rita,” my father said at length, his voice soft and tormented. “I knew her for only a short time, but she was lovely. Her fire a boiling crimson, like yours.”

My brain had begun to piece some things together, and my eyes narrowed. “Every Teuton in this city knows you couldn’t summon your earth until after I was born.

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