Page 174 of Stormbreaker

I open my mouth to answer as her gaze slides to Rook, judgment written into every line of her moisturized face.

“Is this . . . the Solitude? You brought him here? To our home?” Her eyes widen. “Wait, are you in trouble? Is he forcing you to do something?”

She steps away, backing out of the room. “I’ll call the Patrol.”

“Mom, no!” I say, moving closer with my hands out like I’m trying to calm a wild animal. “I brought him here. He’s not doing anything wrong.”

She grips the doorframe, looking between us before glancing at our hands, which she definitely saw us holding. “Why are you with him?”

“His name is Rook.”

“I don’t care what his name is,” she spits. “I ordered you to stay away from him. Didn’t you get my message?”

“Your message?” I ask, unable to believe my ears. “Your message? I don’t know, Mom, maybe I missed it while sending you hundreds of messages you didn’t bother answering!”

“What did you expect?” she cries. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to act like my mother!”

She shakes her head and lays a hand on her throat. Tears form in her eyes, and I squint because it’s then that I notice the faintest hint of bruising on her skin.

“What did he do?” I ask, my voice dropping low. “Did he hurt you?”

I’m moving closer now, my mother backing into the hall.

“What did you expect him to do, Poet? Did you think all your little stunts would go unpunished? He couldn’t reach you, so he opted for the closest thing. If he found out I’d been talking to you—”

My shoulders drop, sharp needles exploding in my stomach. She took the brunt of his wrath for me. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t,” she says firmly. “I know this was not the intended outcome when you set out on all this.” She waves a hand up and down. “But you need to understand that you have ruined everything. Your father had to scramble to find a successor, and Trey and Molly are no longer speaking to us. They’re trying to establish their own pick as scion while your father’s power slips away.”

As she lays out the entire picture for me, nausea creeps up my throat. Knox told me everything was okay, but that was weeks ago, and things have clearly progressed. I knew choosing Aria would have consequences, but I never really understood how far my actions would spread.

We both fall silent before my mother asks, “Poet, what are you doing here? If your father had been home . . .” Her gaze darts to Rook. “You would both be in more trouble than you can possibly imagine.”

“I needed something,” I say, picking up the lie I’d already prepared. “A sweater I forgot.”

“You came back here for a sweater?”

I nod. “I needed it.”

She eyes me with a wary look, and I’m pretty sure she knows I’m lying, but she doesn’t press it.

Her gaze slides over me. “Fine, did you get what you needed?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you should both go.”

She steps aside and waits. I share a glance with Rook and gesture him toward the hall.

“You go ahead,” I say. He nods and then walks up to my mother, stops, and looks her up and down. He’s made no secret of how little he respects my parents, but he stares at the bruise on my mother’s throat, and I note the contrast of his softening eyes and the tightness around his mouth.

“If a man ever laid a hand on your daughter, I’d kill him,” he says, and my mother blinks, her mouth falling open. No one has ever spoken to her like that. Rook cocks his head. “I still might.”

She stares up at him, her lower lip trembling, before Rook turns and heads down the hall.

“Mom,” I say. “I would have told you I was coming, but—”