Born of Night (The League #1)(49)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

How stupid could they be? But they were experts and so her father listened to them and their psychobabble instead of hearing her when she spoke.

She refused to take the folder from his hand. She didn’t want anything from him. Ever.

Her father believed that she’d been raped by all of The Sentella men, and no matter how much she tried to explain what had happened between her and Nykyrian, her father kept saying she’d been brainwashed.

Why wouldn’t he listen to her? How many times had she tried to tell him no one did anything to her she didn’t want done?

When he spoke, his voice was full of bitterness. “You’re pregnant.”

Those words hit her like a sledgehammer.

“What?”

“You’re pregnant,” he sneered as he repeated the word.

Kiara gasped as reality hit her. For the first time in weeks, she felt like laughing.

She carried Nykyrian’s baby . . . The miracle of that floored her. Placing her hand over her flat stomach, she tried to imagine the child forming there.

And in her mind, she imagined telling Nykyrian . . . imagined him wrapping his arms around her as he gave her that dimpled smile and shared her happiness over what they’d created together.

She grabbed the folder, opened it and searched the documents until she found the sonogram of her infant. The baby looked like a tiny bean of a creature, but there was no mistaking it. And to think she’d assumed her illness and lethargy were from her grief.

How could she not have known?

“The doctor said he can terminate the pregnancy without any problems.”

She glared at her father. “Absolutely not. No one touches my baby.”

Keifer stood, his face dark and foreboding. “Be reasonable. A child will end your career. Is that really what you want after you’ve worked so hard and for so long? To lose your career over this? Why would you want to give up your life because of some bastard seed?”

Kiara trembled in rage. Never in her life had she wanted to strike her father, but at the moment she doubted anything else would give her more satisfaction. She rose to her feet to confront him. “It was my husband you killed. My baby is not a bastard! It’s all I have left of Nykyrian. How dare you insult either of them. I . . .” Her words broke off into a sob. Why should she even bother?

He never heard her.

And she wasn’t about to let him ruin this moment for her. Tightening her mother’s shawl around her shoulders and wishing she were here to comfort her, she left him to his brooding and returned to her room.

All she wanted was to go back to their last day together. To touch Nykyrian one more time and to see the look on his face when she told him he was going to be a father.

Instead, she touched her stomach where the last piece of him flourished. She would give their baby all the love she’d wanted to give Nykyrian—all the love Nykyrian had been denied his entire life.

Her baby would never doubt the love of its mother. She would make sure of it.

“You have to return to the theater, Kiara. It’s miserable there without you.”

Kiara sighed heavily as Tiyana continued to beg her while they walked down a busy street. It was the first outing she’d been on and she wanted to look for baby items. She’d already found a beautiful layette and placed an order for the baby’s crib.

Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time anything had excited her more.

And Tiyana seemed as eager to ruin her joy, and she was determined not to let her. She suspected her father was putting Tiyana up to the incessant begging. “I’ve told you a thousand times I’m through dancing. I don’t want that life anymore. I have a baby to think about now.”

“How can you walk away from your fame at the height of your career? Do you know how many people, myself included, would kill to have what you’re throwing away?”

And therein was most of the problem. She knew and she was sick of dodging those digs and smiling while they clawed pettily at her for no other reason than they were jealous.

Nykyrian had shown her a world where she was free of that misery. And now she had a much better reason to live.

Kiara placed her hand over her belly, which was just barely starting to round, longing for the day when she would see real proof of her baby. “There are other things more important to me now.”

“Such as?”

She stiffened. “My baby, for one.”

“You can dance for a few more months, you know? Return to the show and finish out the run.”

“I am not going to put my body through those rigors and risk hurting the baby. I’m retired, Tiyana. Accept it. And for the love of heaven, stop with the nagging before you suck the rest of the joy out of my day.”

Her friend growled at her. “It just kills me, Kiara. I would sell my soul for your fame.”

She opened her mouth to reply that she would sell her soul to have Nykyrian back, but as she looked up, she saw Darling eating lunch inside the café they were passing.

Shock riveted her to the sidewalk as she stopped midstride.

He looked so good there . . .

A happy thrill rushed through her. Without another word to Tiyana, she doubled back and entered the café. But as she drew near him, she hesitated in uncertainty. Surely he grieved as much for Nykyrian’s loss as she did. She didn’t want to hurt him, and yet, she wanted to touch that part of her brief past.

Darling looked up and caught sight of her standing in the doorway. A smile spread across his face as he rose slowly to his feet. “Kiara?”

She closed the distance between them. Darling grabbed her into a fierce hug.

He placed a kiss on her cheek as he tightened his embrace, then released her. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve been wondering how you were doing.”

She returned his smile. “You look great. I’ve been wanting to talk to you guys, but I didn’t know how to get in touch with any of you.” Apparently The Sentella didn’t believe in passing messages to them from women. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting on Caillen, as usual. I swear that man’s going to be late to his own funeral.”

She laughed at his dire tone.

“Kiara?” Tiyana was hesitant as she joined them.

“Tiyana, this is my friend, Darling.”

They shook hands and Darling pulled a chair out for Kiara to join him. “It’s really good to see you. After the way Nykyrian’s been acting lately, I’d started to think—”

“What?” Kiara gasped, interrupting him as her stomach hit the floor.

It couldn’t be possible. Surely she’d misheard that.

Darling looked at her and his face turned the shade of his hair. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

Her mind spun with the knowledge as her emotions spiraled out of control—something not helped by her pregnant hormones. “Nykyrian’s alive?”

Darling nodded.

She shook her head in disbelief. No, it wasn’t true. If Nykyrian lived, he would have come for her. He wouldn’t be so callous or cruel as to leave her in so much pain for no reason.

“I saw him killed right in front of me.” The soldiers had been adamant.

Darling glanced at Tiyana. “He was severely wounded, but a couple of Sentella members shielded him from your father’s soldiers and helped him get home.”

Kiara struggled to breathe as that reality slammed into her.

Nykyrian was alive and he didn’t want her.

All this time, she’d told herself he loved her, yet he hadn’t even bothered to tell her he was alive. Oh, how she wished she were a man. She’d hunt him down and beat him within an inch of his worthless, cold life.

The bastard!

Darling swallowed. “Are you all right?”

She lifted her chin, unwilling to let him know how much pain she was in. Be damned if he’d report that back to his boss. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice as icy as the bitter feeling consuming her. “It was nice seeing you today.” She extended her hand to Darling. “I wish I could spend more time with you, but I’m afraid I have to call my manager and accept a job. Give my best to the others.”

Kiara sensed Tiyana’s confusion as she turned and made her way back to the street with a calmness she definitely didn’t feel. Right now, she wanted to pummel someone.

A tall, blond ass**le!

“What gives?” Tiyana glanced back in the direction of the café. “Who was that guy?”

Kiara seethed in humiliation and hurt. “He’s no one.” How could Nykyrian do this to her? How could he put her through this? He was inhuman, and she was through wasting her life, pining for him.

“Where are you going now?”

Kiara gave her an arch stare. “You heard what I said. I’m calling Mortie and coming out of retirement.”

CHAPTER 24

Nykyrian stroked Ulf’s soft belly while he watched a taped performance of one of Kiara’s ballets. His heart heavy, he knew he should go after her. No, needed to go after her, he corrected himself. But he couldn’t.

She was better off thinking him dead. Let her go on with her life without any reminders of him to hold her back. It was better this way.

And if being without Kiara wasn’t hell enough, Syn was missing, too. His flat had been torn apart and no one had any clue who’d done it. They’d been searching for weeks, but no one could find a trace to Syn’s whereabouts.

He was most likely dead, otherwise he’d have contacted them.

Pain gripped him and Nykyrian tossed back another shot of whisky. He was alone like he’d always wanted to be. But he’d never guessed just how painful true solitude was.

Or maybe it was because Kiara had shown him heaven and now he was relegated to hell.

He sighed in weary frustration as he watched her. But he wasn’t satisfied with this anymore. He knew what her touch felt like. The sound of her laughter and her tears.

I can’t stand this . . .

At least she was performing tonight on Gouran. She had her old life back.

A sliver of satisfaction crept over him. His threats had worked. Nemesis had been able to intimidate the Probekeins enough that they revoked their contract. She was safe and no longer hunted.

There was so much he wished he could tell her. If he could just touch her one last time . . .

Aw, hell, what did it matter? He’d spent his whole life wishing for what could’ve been. As Syn would say if he were here, he had two choices. He could either continue to wallow in his useless self-pity or he could try to see Kiara.

Neither option seemed promising at the moment.

Lights flashed in Kiara’s face, blinding her. She turned her head away and made a few quotable responses to the reporters as she pried her way between them with the help of her security detail and headed for her dressing room.

After her brief, mysterious disappearance, she seemed to be the hottest topic in the media. Well, let them gossip. What did she care, anyway?

Just wait until they learned about her baby, then they really would swarm her for juicy tidbits.

With a weary sigh, she fell into her room and closed the door against the overzealous reporters as her detail held them back.

Leaning against the closed door, she took several calming breaths, grateful to have a few seconds of silence without a light in her face or someone shouting a question at her.

How had she ever thought this was enjoyable?

Tonight had been particularly grueling, and she was sick of all the backbiting politics and eager young dancers out to bring a performer down, all the two-faced promoters who wanted to make a sola with one hand and shove the other down her dress.

This is what you wanted.

She had no right to complain and yet . . .

She wouldn’t think about Nykyrian. Not now when her fury and hurt were so raw.

Pushing herself away from the door, she grabbed a towel from her dressing table and wiped the perspiration from her brow.

“Kiara?”

She froze, knowing that deep, accented voice that continued to haunt her dreams.

Nykyrian stepped out of the shadows to her left. Dressed all in black with his shades in place, he was the embodiment of fierce, lethal grace. She stared at him, noting the tenseness around his lips. Stubble lined his handsome face as if he hadn’t shaved in several days.

Despite her anger and pain, her body throbbed with desire. How could she still want to make love to him after what he’d put her through?

He’d abandoned her and their baby without so much as a goodbye.

But in spite of it all, she wanted to run to him and hold him close. To beg him to take her away from this and keep her safe.

He doesn’t want you. If he had, he would never have been able to put her through the hell of thinking him dead.

With that thought, she steeled herself. She wasn’t about to let him know how hurt she was. “What do you want?”

He reached his hand out to touch her, then drew it back. “I wanted to explain.”

She turned away and jerked the zipper down the back of her costume, cursing as it caught in her hair and ripped out several strands. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. What you did was wrong. You let me think you were dead.”