Page 67 of Obsidian and Frost

“I try to be. Although, we do share some traits.”

Before I could ask more, he shifted the subject. “And your family? I know your mom is an Alpha and she commanded the second largest wolf pack in the supernatural world, just beneath Jaxon Silver in his Alpha hey-day with Silverwood Wolf Pack.”

“That’s exactly right.”

“Well, I do my research.”

“Research or stalking of those who you get in your sights?” I teased.

“A bit of both,” he admitted. “You’re close with her, yes? Your mom?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“And your father? He’s an Ancient, of course.”

“I grew up with a stepfather. A piece of shit who my mom married to assist with stabilizing alliances during a tumultuous time for the pack. When my vampire abilities kicked in, that kind of shot everything to hell.” I grimaced at the memories. “According to her, my true father is dead. I don’t know a thing about him, not even his name. And when she decides something is to be kept secret—especially when it’s out of protective instincts toward me—there’s no pushing through it with her.”

“You’ve never done a Blood Trace?”

“I have. That’s when I confirmed that he was dead. There was just… nothing there. Just… the sensation of death when the sorceress I had perform the spell carried it out.”

His brow furrowed. “Death? That was the actual result? It felt cold and unsettling, leaving the taste of ash in your mouth?”

“Yeah. Exactly that.”

“How old was this sorceress? Her experience level?”

“I was a teen at the time, I didn’t have the greatest access to that sort of thing, so we’re talking my age, a couple of years full-on practicing, still in the early days of her schooling at a Coven—Lotus Coven.”

“She misread the results, Lazriel.”

“What?”

“What you’re describing sounds like aDeath Seal.”

I frowned. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“No. Of course not. It’s not something that will be taught at Wraeven either. It’s high-level magical know-how. And it’salso necromantic at its root. It would need an experienced necromancer, or a Shadowmancer, a magic-wielder dealing in black magic—any one of those—to create a Death Seal. It enables the blocking of a Blood Trace and tracking spells, which most performing such spells would register as the subject being dead. What’s really happening with a Death Seal is the falsification of death through binding the death of another to skew the results and have it register as such.”

“Like a sacrifice? Somebody being murdered to prevent my father from being tracked?”

“Yes.”

I jolted, a rush of adrenaline flowing through my veins. “You’re saying he could still be alive?”

“I’m saying that at the time you had the Blood Trace performed, he was.”

I sucked in a harsh breath.

He laid his hand on mine, drawing me back to him, and grounding me at the same time. As my gaze flicked to his, he told me, “If you want, I can perform another Blood Trace. If the Death Seal is still in place, I have the means to remove it.”

“I… thank you. I don’t know, though. If he went to this much trouble to stay hidden… my mom purposely not telling me who he was—or is—heading down that path could be a shit storm. Maybe nothing good would come of it, and quite the opposite instead. I… need to think about it.”

“Of course.”

He went to say more, but then a sudden thud at the door had us both startling.

I dropped my toast and shot to my feet, a growl escaping me.