Page 59 of Fallacies

“Good.” I gently take her hand. “And do you trust me?”

Lucina glances once more at the crowd, then decides with a stronger nod, “I do.”

“Good girl.”

As soon as Pax finishes, I pull on her hand, guiding her forward. All eyes shift to me, and I’m about to address the audience when my attention snags on some sort of movement in shrubbery that lines the Yard.

Kimber ducks down a second too late, and when Lucina’s friends realize they’ve been caught, Selene flips me off over the top of the hedge. Gemma’s hand shoots up, trying desperately to swat Selene’s away, and when I look over at Cin, she’s staring down at her shoes, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

Deciding it’s a battle I’m in no mood to fight, I force out a deep breath and present Lucina to the audience. “Our initiate.” I swallow, glancing at Delia. “Lucina Van Reenan.”

A wave of shocked inhales crests over the crowd, and I feel Lucina’s eyes on me. They’re more angry than fearful, but I didn’t have a choice. We have to prove she’s of Disciple-born blood for her to be in this coven.

“I had to,” I tell her, watching as her anger shifts into apprehension. I’ve just shoved her under a microscope, and she has no idea what to do next. “It’s okay, Cin,” I promise with a squeeze of my hand as I nod to the crowd. “But they’re going to need proof.”

It takes her a second to realize what I’m asking. Then another second for her to decide it’s okay. That it doesn’t need to be her secret anymore. Being a part of a coven is the safest place Lucina can be. Anyone out there who has a problem with her ancestry would be making an enemy out of everyone standing on this stage.

The audience watches wide-eyed as Lucina takes a cautious step forward. Her shoulders rise with her breath, and on her exhale, she cracks the lid on her magic.

I feel it instantly.

A mighty wave of power spills over the platform, spreading across the dirt, and I watch May grab hold of Raphael’s arm. I see Sedona lean forward in her chair, chest lifted as if she’s prepared to stand to get a better view.

Lucina maintains her composure as a thin line of gold ink appears at her fingertips, snaking around her wrists and winging up her arms. The metallic mark shimmers as it circles her neck, and I exhale a shallow breath as it completes itself in a perfect crown of gold across her forehead.

No one in the audience speaks.

Granted, with the rules of initiation, they aren’t permitted to, but honestly, I think most of them are speechless.

The Dianic coven knew of Lucina’s heritage, and judging by the serene expression on Pa’s face, some Diviner glimpse into the future must have revealed it to him, but no one else knew. Raphael, Sedona, Aster, May even—they aren’t sure what to do with themselves.

Lucina, I can tell, is thankful for the silence. She exhales, locking her magic away with the breath, and the golden mark fades from her skin. At the straightening of her shoulders, I wonder how heavy it was for her to keep that kind of secret. I’m glad it’s no longer weighing her down.

The second this is over, news of her bloodline will burn through camp like a spark on a line of gasoline, but she’ll be an Ajax by then. A part of a coven. To get to her, you’d have to get through all six of us first. And me twice.

“Alright.” Taking her hand, I guide her to the dais, and when she sees the knife resting atop it, her stare snaps up to mine. “It’s fine,” I tell her, but my calm tone does nothing to soothe her. “Lucina, what you are about to experience is fake. But it will feel real. You must remember it isn’t.”

She glares back at me. “I really fucking hate you right now.”

“I know,” I exhale, relieved that she’s more angry than scared. I can deal with anger. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Turning from the dais, I nod to Easton. “You first.”

The way initiation works is simple. We’ve each chosen moments in our lives where we felt the most pain. Moments that shaped us, broke us, and sank us straight to the bottom. One by one, we will share that memory with Lucina, and we will relive it with her.

She will have to endure it with us, the way we remember it. She will experience every ounce of pain, every broken heart, and when she makes it through, we’ll endure her memory together. All of us.

The coven is your family. We share each other's pain. We’re bonded through our worst memories, our lowest points—a tether linking us to rock bottom as a reminder that we will never be there alone.

Easton approaches the dais and grabs the knife. Lucina’s throat bobs, and she watches wide-eyed as he pricks his thumb, waiting for a bead of blood to appear before he gently takes her hand. Easton releases a deep breath and smears his blood in the center of Lucina’s open palm.

Their bodies snap rod-straight, freezing in place, still staring at each other, but their expressions are lifeless. Their bodies are still here—on the platform—but their souls are not.

14

Callan

Easton was sick as a baby. The Menders said he had a bad heart and wouldn’t live long enough to Split. He was his father’s only heir, but to him, Easton was no good sick. As a result of his condition, his father deemed him worth nothing. After his mother died, he had no one left to defend him, and his father threw him out on the street.

He was minutes from a hypothermic death when Devon’s parents found Easton wandering outside the Estate in Streatham.