He gripped at the roots holding him in place as if they were iron bars, and they might’ve well been as they held him securely to his prison, some even running through him in painful penetrated areas where blood oozed and mixed with green sap.

This was the fate we’d elected to give him when we didn’t give his body funeral rights. This was the fate that Hel elected to give him for his deeds in his life. Slowly being consumed by the world tree, demolished until there was nothing left.

I wanted to throw up but was stopped in my tracks as Lydian’s catlike green eyes met mine and then slid right over to the staring figure of Rosamund.

“Hello, son.”

12

SINS OF THE FATHER

BLOOD SHOT LIKE frozen water through my veins. Son? Rosamund was Lydian’s son? My gaze bounced between the two of them. They resembled little of each other, Lydian being lean where Rosamund was stocky, and of course Rose had his telltale red hair. But the eyes … both men had the exact same color eyes in the exact same shape in their faces. That alone could be proof enough. It wasn’t like Rose was denying it.

From beside me, a low growl built up in Soren’s throat, and I grabbed his wrist, running my thumb over the fingernails that were slowly lengthening to claws in hopes that they reversed the transformation. Luckily, the soothing gesture worked, but who knew for how long. The upset wouldn’t get any better with claws out.

I glared at Lydian, who while still in his painful prison managed to look very amused with himself. The damn brute was impaled by thorns and still managed to rile up everyone in the group with his words without even being a threat to us physically. I took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in my head that was becoming an ever-constant headache.

“You have no right to call me that,” Rosamund said, voice in a deep growl. He turned to Soren and me, green eyes pleading. “Believe me when I say there is no sort of relationship between the two of us, not in the way you think. Not in any way.” I wasn’t sure who was more upset in the moment, him or Soren.

Soren’s bloodlust was palpable, but even he could hear the truth in Rosamund’s words. The truth and the pain behind them. Blood or not, Lydian’s revelation held no type of positive emotion for Rose. No goblin could lie without the other one knowing, and both of them could tell he was speaking the truth. He couldn’t hide his true feelings.