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Sneaking around the mansion, I feel like the eyes of every staff member are on me. They’re not who I’m avoiding though.
I do my best to leave my room only for a quick meal and nothing else. It’s the only option I have until I figure out what to do. Mom gave me what I asked for—information—but the weight of it is crushing me.
What do I do with the knowledge that my loving father isn’t really my father? This knowledge is a brutal beast hiding in the shadows, hunting me for some unknown purpose. Pandora’s Box must have been simpler than this.
I haven’t processed the news. Not truly. It sits in my stomach like a boulder, and I have no tools to chip it apart. It’s lodged so firmly I barely have any appetite. I have to make myself eat. I rub my belly tenderly. It’s not just me I have to take care of.
I’m nearly down the stairs to the first level when I see him.
Arsen is on his way up the steps, and he spots me before I can retreat from view. I’ve been avoiding him since our tense encounter on the stairs. I hadn’t had time to decide how to act around him. He caught me off guard, and in response, I shut down.
I wanted more time before we spoke again. Guess I won’t get it. I try anyway, spinning about to ascend the stairs back toward my room. I don’t get far before he sprints to catch me. His body is a blockade in my way.
“Oh, Arsen. Hello.”
His eyes become thin slits. “Don’t act like you didn’t see me.”
Tilting my head, I keep my voice level. “Did you need something?”
“You know what I want.”
“I don’t. And I was on my way to take a bath. We can get together later.” I try to move around him, but it’s useless.
“Stop avoiding me. We need to talk.”
I blink a few times. “About what?”
He corners me on the stairwell. His presence isn’t the usual calm, comforting energy I find attractive about him. In its place is something with barbs and sharp edges that will cut me if I make the wrong move.
“You’re acting strange,” he accuses.
I choose to play dumb. “Am I?”
His hand slams against the wall beside my ear. The impact is startling, but what really gets to me is how my foot slips on the edge of the stair. A sensation like being flipped upside down rockets through my belly.
“If this has to do with your mother …” he growls. “Just say it.”
My mother?
Dragging my tongue over my dry lips, I try to look him in the eye. The rage bubbling in his pupils forces me to stare at my toes. “Why do you think?—”
“You were outside her room,” he says. “You kept looking at her door. Something is clearly wrong.”
“No … that’s not …”
His hand hits the wall again. “Then tell me what you’re hiding from me!”
The edge on his words slices cleanly through my mind. I keep looking at my feet, and I feel my legs trembling, worried that I’ll lose control, that my legs are about to send me tumbling down the stairs, and then …
Clamping my arm over my stomach, I shudder helplessly. Another man’s face flashes through my mind—different words, a different time, but all too similar to this. Simon is a ghoul who still haunts me. Every time I think I’m free from him, I realize I’m not.
“You bitch,” Simon shouts at me as his fists rain down blows. “This is all your fault. You fucking did this!”
“No, I didn’t!” I scream back, shielding myself against his relentless assault. “What happened wasn’t?—”
“The fuck it isn’t, you cunt!” he roars, rage lighting up his pupils. They suck me in until I’m spinning in a sea of black. I’m drowning. “You destroyed our child. You killed him!”
Simon advances on me on the stairs, making sure I can’t escape. My only way out ...
