From the moment I learned Calia was destined to be mine, I began the arduous task of building my own walls higher and reinforcing them with the strongest material I could summon. But Leonora’s words had remained the same throughout:“Make her fall in love with you.”
I was never destined to return the sentiment—not according to her. Nor had it ever been my intention. Losing myself to Calia’s love was a complication she had never anticipated. Especially not from the son who had sworn he would never let himself feel that way again.
What started out as a sure-fire way for her to get what she wanted turned into a nightmare by her standards. Once I had claimed Calia, my mother knew I would never allow her to be taken from me—curse be damned.
The sun was nothing compared to the warmth I felt radiating from my wife’s embrace—the way she coaxed my darkness tothe surface and soothed the anxious beast beneath my skin. A comparison of the two was unfair to the sunlight, really. Because I would have chosen Calia every time.
“That is what we need to find out,” I said, running my hands through my hair. “From the little Leonora had disparaged regarding the rituals, there was no mention of the death she intended to claim. Either by her hand or mine—she had planned Calia’s demise.”
The truth of that statement hung in the air because we all knew what happened with Corvina, even if it had been an accident. I was a killer—had been a killer long before—but there was something about the death of an innocent on your hands that made the world weigh heavier upon your shoulders.
“I have a contact within one of the covens,” Jasper said slowly, rising to his feet. “I’ll call her and see if their leader will agree to a meeting, and I’ll let you know when I hear back”
With a pat on my shoulder, he walked out, leaving my sister and me alone to face the palpable tension between us. She fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, staring at the floor instead of me. In my fragile mindset, I had not been able to analyze each facet of that night. But now that she was here, it was all I could think about. Rowena was the only one capable of giving me the answers I sought.
“Why did Calia have that knife, Rowena?”
My sister stilled her movements, curling her fingers into her fist, but refused my gaze. “I had thisfeeling,” she began, voice shaking almost imperceptibly. “It started as unease, traveling up my spine until it settled like a dead weight on my shoulders, and once it was there, it lingered. No matter how hard I tried to push it off, it dug its claws in until I bled.” Misty eyes finally met mine. “I had found the dagger when I was a girl in Father’s study. At the time, it sat behind a glass case. I couldn’t help myself from stealing looks at it. Every time I did—I don’t know, Rion—I feltso many opposing emotions that I couldn’t help my curiosity. There was just something so different about it.”
I nodded, remembering my own experience with the blade. At times, the study would be shrouded in darkness, yet light would strike the metal, and it would glint—winking at unsuspecting passersby as though to lure in the weak of heart. It was a manifestation of temptation. At least, that’s what our father had always told me. Though pragmatic, he often had a flare for the dramatics regarding his children.
“Father told me it was powerful—that it could easily kill the unkillable, cutting through flesh and bone—and I believed him without question. So, after he died…” she trailed off, emotions surfacing after decades of suffocation.
“You took the knife,” I mused, shaking my head.
It had been a mystery for decades. Questions as to where the knife had gone had circulated, causing Mother to tear our estate apart looking for it. She stated it was invaluable. An heirloom that, if fallen into the wrong hands, would have catastrophic consequences.
She nodded. “I was terrified after his death. The man I thought was invincible had been slain in our own home. Mother was on a rampage. You were busy picking up the pieces of our family and holding them together. I didn’t want to come to you with something so insignificant, so I took the knife to keep me safe. It was stupid, and at the end of the day, it scared me more than it gave me comfort—especially with Mother’s hysterics afterward. I didn’t know what she would do if she found out I had it,” she said, exhaling a deep breath.
My heart broke at the thought of her suffering alone. The fact she felt as though she could not turn to me spoke volumes about my actions over the decades. And how could I have been so blind to her anguish?
My voice softened as I spoke. “Then why give it to Calia?”
“Well, that is partially why I tried coming in for the party earlier than planned. I can’t explain why or how Rion, but I had this overwhelming sensation of dread. Like something terrible was looming overhead, and you were in danger. But when I met Calia, something just clicked, and fate or whatever bullshit led me here told me to make sure the blade made its way to her.” She looked terrified momentarily, as though she feared repercussions for her actions. “Rion, I had no way of knowing what would happen that night. Maybe if I hadn’t given it to her, Mother wouldn’t have?—”
I reached out and clasped her hand, bringing her focus to me. “No. It would have happened regardless. I imagine our mother had been planning that night far longer than I realized.”
And that was the worst truth of all. Perhaps I could have stopped her if I had paid attention, but I chose to remain blissfully ignorant of her antics for years. From his ruthless threats, I assumed incorrectly that Renwick was a more significant menace. But in the end, he was just one more man who thought himself infallible.
She was smart, our mother. Using Renwick as a smokescreen to hide her deeds had been ingenious. But she had never anticipated his loss, which would end up being her downfall.
Rowena’s foot tapped nervously, her anxiety still evident as she tightened her brows. “I should have told you. If I was honest, maybe you could have used it on our mother before Calia”—she cut herself off, swallowing the words she had not wanted to voice.
Before Calia killed herself.
“It’s done now,” I said hoarsely, clearing my throat of the emotions I was forcing down.
I could not bear to deal in ‘what ifs.’ It was a currency designed for dreamers, and my dream had been stolen before I had been able to live it.
Rowena excused herself,leaving me to my own devices. Even though the day was young, and we finally had a plan to move forward, I struggled to find the motivation to move from my seat. I looked at the bottles strewn about as voices of embarrassment and shame attempted to push me deeper into the darkness.
“Look at you,” they whispered. “So weak, so pathetic. What would Calia say if she saw you? Do you think she would embrace the man you have let yourself become?”
No, I did not think so, but that was not the only reason she would deny me.
Yet, a small flame had been lit within me where there had only been darkness before. Even if my grief ruined me, Jasper was right. I could not let her death be in vain. I could not sit here and let her sacrifice be wasted on my tears and selfish need to mourn.
It was not the time for despondence.
