Because studying him now, I can finally see those features. The exotic slant of his eyes. His swan-like neck. His graceful, elongated fingers. All of them are faint, hidden within the influence of his father’s Human genetics. He’s a far cry from Callie Lotus, who radiates her Elvin heritage. Her Human features are the ones that take a back seat. Or even Erik, who I could tell was Elvin even as I was drowning in vomit. But Will—Will’s the opposite. And I feel stupid for being so blind, and annoyed at my astonishment, because why ought one species naturally outshine the other in all cases?
Cameron sets the photo down. “I know this is a lot to take in, son, but—”
Adrenaline supersedes pain, because Will shoots off the couch. He’s shaking—and I’m not sure if it’s in rage or shock. “Is this a bloody joke?”
His father solemnly shakes his head.
Will turns to me, the plea in his dark eyes tugging on my heartstrings, but I have no answers to give. Or explanations. Or anything other than my support, which I attempt to offer in an awkward hug after an equally awkward extraction from my chair.
Even his voice shakes against my ear. “Did you know?”
I tighten my hold against him as much as I can, given our matching Frankenstein monster-like wounds. But he pulls away, adrift in his new existence. “No. But, Will, it’s not—”
It’s not what, Chloe? Bad? Shocking? Reality destroying? The worst thing? Because in this moment, I can see how all of these things could be truth to him.
He waits for me to finish, but I can’t.
So Cameron tells us his story. How he met Molly, how they fell in love, how he knew early on what she was and what she was capable of. Of how they were met with stark disapproval from her parents, kept his in the dark, and tried living within Annar’s society and boundaries until the strain of their frowned-upon union got to be too much. How, after careful discussion and consideration, they agreed that Molly would make a break from Magical society and try to live life without Magic since she didn’t want her son to be stigmatized as a half-breed like other children born of Magical and non unions. How she and Cameron decided to keep all of this from Will during his childhood and raise him simply as Human. How they eventually found an outpost of such couples and children in Glasgow, and of how there are some, like Erik the nurse practitioner, who’ve gravitated to Anchorage.
Upon his own admission, Cameron assumed there’d never be a time in which he had to reveal Will’s heritage unless absolutely necessary. Will rarely got sick over the years, yet when he did, Molly always sought out people within these surprisingly large networks of so-called half-breeds, which is why Cameron was so insistent on neither of us being treated at a regular hospital. He knew Will’s Elvin genetics and blood type would send up red flags. How mine—even though I’m technically Human—would do the same. He admits that, when I was in the hospital for alcohol poisoning and the doctors pulled him aside, telling him they’d found abnormalities in my blood work that I don’t remember giving (thanks to puking my guts out), his suspicions about me were confirmed. He paid off somebody, another half-breed here in Anchorage, to go and destroy my records, then poked around until he got the lowdown on a missing Creator. From there, it wasn’t too difficult to put the pieces together, especially since it was second nature for him to want to protect me just as surely as he does his son.
He tells us, his voice quiet and steady, that this is what his wife would’ve wanted. Molly didn’t want to be involved in Annar society, yet desperately wanted to make sure anyone and everyone who felt they didn’t have a place there did have a place somewhere. We learn that there are numerous children and adults running around Anchorage right now not knowing they’re the products of Magical parents.
The entire time he tells us this, time ceases. I don’t even think the clock on the wall ticks. There’s nothing, no one but Cameron and his truths. And when he’s done, his heart on his sleeve and his good intentions laid out, ready for bruising and judgments, I find that there is no way I can deliver anything but love for this man. He knew what I was and still chose to love me. Protect me. Give me a home and a family. Support me as I got back on my feet.
“I’m bloody furious at you for this,” Will eventually says, his voice as hoarse as his father’s.
Cameron accepts this.
Will’s good hand, the one untouched by Cailleache’s fury, shoots through his sandy hair in carefully controlled bursts. “You’ve lied to me. My whole life. You and Mum.”
There’s no argument. No defensive comebacks or further rationalizations. Nothing but Cameron accepting his son’s anguish in the same calm, steady manner that marks his character.
“Can I do what Chloe does?” There’s a wild desperation in his eyes. “Magic, I mean?”
Cameron slowly, but surely, shakes his head, his focus never leaving his son’s face.
“Will,” I say quietly, “to have a craft, a Magical must have two full-blooded Magical parents.”