“Hidden? What do I have to do with any of this?” Sloane asked, bewildered.
“You were theonething she could use to control me,” Ballard said in a mournful whisper. “I tried to stand my ground, to refuse to give her information. For a while, I succeeded.” He looked away. “ But I would rather be executed for treason than lose you.”
“Andthatis what makes you weak,” my mother hissed, jerking her head back to him. “Lovemakes you weak. I would not have made it to where I am today if I had allowed such a frivolous emotion to rule me.”
Her words, while no surprise, still reminded me of an inescapable ache I had been attempting to soothe my whole life. All the pain, tears, and trauma had been due to her negligence and unquenchable thirst for power. All my pain was born from her lack of love.
I felt a presence beside me, a warmth which enveloped me in a comforting embrace. Calia had slowly extended her hand, placing it atop mine on the dirty concrete floor. I did not want to look at her, for her to see the aftermath of my own mother’s cruelty in my eyes.
But then I heard her voice in my mind, clear as day. If I had not already been on my knees, I would have fallen and wept.
Please, Rion,she begged.Look at me.
And though I knew I would regret it if we were caught, I did. I let her see everything—every broken, jagged, tortured, cruel piece of me. It was all I had retained in her absence, a glaring reminder that I had let my trauma consume me until I no longer recognized myself.
Her lips parted with a silent sigh, and I wondered if I had ever seen a more hauntingly beautiful creature. Even here and now, with blood on her skin and frightened rage in her heart, there was an eager defiance shining in her gaze.
She deserved so much more than I could offer her, and yet, despite everything that lurked in the dark memories of my past…
She had only wantedme.
More than that, she had never asked me to change. To her, I had been enough just the way I was. It was something I had not realized I was searching for. I had never known what it felt like to just simply be loved—without question or expectation.
Being loved by Calia had opened my eyes to how wrong I had been about so many things. She made me want to better myself, to not let the horrors of past dictate my future.
As if understanding all of this, she simply nodded, her voice sounding in my mind once more.I know,she whispered.
For just a moment, I forgot where we were or the dangers we faced, so focused on the sensation of her palm against mine. I took us away, casting an image of us—sitting alone on a quiet hill amidst a galaxy of stars. Instead of the sharp copper tang of blood, I inhaled the sweet mint scent of her skin. She was soft and warm as she leaned into my touch, and the only sound was my name leaving her lips as I trailed my own across her neck.
There is nothing I would not do,I told her mind-to-mind,to ensure you walk away unharmed.
Even if that meant I could not say the same for myself.
Escape would prove difficult with Ballard aiding my mother. He had rendered Jasper and I useless, turning our brains tomush within our skulls. The former lay slumped on the floor, still unmoving. Elios and Calia had seemed unaffected, unless he had simply not turned his gifts on them.
We were running on borrowed time, and I did not know how long Sloane could keep my mother talking. She might make it out unscathed if I could find a way to get Calia to her father. I was unsure where they could go—my mother would not give up so easily—but I knew he would not let anything happen to her.
I glanced over my shoulder to where Elios crouched next to Jasper. The god met my gaze and knew what I intended. His eyes softened, and though he bowed his head slightly, there was hesitation in the set of his shoulders.
“Just look at my son and the mess hislovehas made of this situation,” my mother said, brushing past Sloane and Ballard to where Calia and I sat together. She gripped my hair, pulling my scalp until all I could see was her.
Staring into her eyes was like staring into endless, empty pits of darkness—so devoid of light that hope had no chance. She knew no emotion other than greed, and it had corrupted every facet of her being.
Calia grabbed Leonora’s arm, attempting to pull her away, but my mother was too strong. Leonora threw her off and spit at Calia’s feet. “Thisis the woman you are ready to throw everything away for?” she asked, her lip curling in disgust. The way she perused Calia made me sick. “A fat, fae,whorewhose first inclination for resolution was to jump from a window? Where was her love when you needed it most? Or is she just so unbearably stupid that she thought some noble sacrifice would be enough?”
“Let him go,” Calia snarled, pushing to her feet. I could barely make her out in the periphery of my vision, and I hated that Leonora’s hideous face would be the last thing I saw.
“Calia,” I warned, shaking my head. She refused to acknowledge me, standing her ground against a woman who had nothing to lose.
My mother laughed, tightening her grip. “Or what?” When Calia said nothing, Leonora smiled. “You are nothing, nobody, a bag of useful blood. A silly girl who believes she can make a difference. You think yourlovematters to anyone but you? Please, If I did not need you alive, I would have already killed you for being a constant nuisance.”
“You claim to know what it is like to be helpless,” Calia said, softening her tone. “Then why not try to use your station to make the world a better place? You have the ability to make sure other women never have to feel like you did.”
Leonora scoffed. “I was nothelpless. I was powerless. I had all the ambition, all the drive of those in higher stations and yet, I was repeatedly overlooked.” She clicked her tongue, looking at me. “Your father was the worst, you know. Every night, he would come home and complain about the state of the world, and when I would tell him what needed to be done, he told me that violence was not the answer—another weak-hearted man made soft by love.”
“You can’t fight violence with violence and hope to win,” Calia said, flicking her gaze behind us. “At some point, the path of least resistance needs to be taken.”
“That is what those who are weak say,” Leonora snarled. “And I was tired of being weak—forced to cower indoors and watch the rest of the world prosper while we were cast in endless, inescapable darkness. The path of least resistance?”—she barked out a cruel laugh—“There is no resistance from the dead. I wanted to walk into a room and have those around me tremble. I wanted to watch them bow at my feet, ensuring I would never be looked down upon again. It could have been different without all your incessant meddling. I could have beenrespected, revered. But instead, I suppose fear will do just as well.” My mother looked away, clenching her jaw. “My husband was useless when we could have had it all. He just stood by in the darkness with the rest of them, doing nothing to help our people rise to power when he had it at all his fingertips.”
