Chapter 4

"Be careful on the road," Sophia said.

I nodded, then let the curtain fall. The carriage rolled forward.

I leaned against the carriage wall, listening to the wheels crunch over the mountain road. No matter what I did, the irritation in my chest wouldn't fade.

I hated the way Sophia looked at me, like I was some clueless kid. And her tone, so gentle, so calm, like she'd already figured everything out for me.

My mother always said that hating someone didn't need a reason.

But I did have reasons. Everything Sophia had, I didn't. My father's affection, Lucas's attention, the respect from everyone in the sect. She got it all without even trying.

And no matter how hard I tried, I could never get any of it.

I lifted the curtain and glanced outside.

The moon was out, bathing the mountain road in a cold, ghostly glow. The disciple driving the carriage turned and asked, "Lydia, which way do we go at the fork ahead?"

"Left," I said.

The left path wasn't the way to the treatment site. It was the road back to the Stormblade Sect.

I knew I shouldn't go back.

The Shadow Sect was still lurking on the mountain, and the Alliance of Light hadn't fully withdrawn yet. If the elders found out, they'd say I was immature again.

But I didn't care anymore.

I needed to get Orion hidden in my secret room as soon as possible.

The carriage veered onto the left path, moonlight breaking through the trees and scattering patches of light and shadow across the cabin.

I glanced down at the face hidden under the cloak. The irritation melted away, replaced by a rush of excitement that started bubbling up inside me.

*****

I locked Orion to the bed in the secret room of my bedroom.

The chains were made from solid steel, and the more he fought, the tighter they'd get.

They were supposed to be for Lucas, but since I barely got him alone anymore, I never had a shot at using them.

Now I'd found someone better. It was a pity I'd never get to see that shock in Lucas's gentle eyes.

I wrapped the chains around Orion's wrists three times and snapped them shut.

He still hadn't woken up.

That was what happened after the Reversion Phase. He was totally at my mercy, limp as a boneless heap, easy to mold however I wanted.

I settled him flat on the bed, made sure his head was straight, and placed his hands at his sides.

After thinking for a moment, I smoothed out his hair and arranged it over the pillow.

His hair was a beautiful contrast against the pale blue bedding.

There were a few old boxes stacked in the corner of the secret room. I crouched down and opened them one by one.

Bottles and jars were crammed together, some wrapped in cloth, others stuffed with scraps of paper. All of them had been sent over the years by my mom's various boyfriends.

There was everything: medicinal powders, poisons from Westfall, and magical bugs.

Every time she wrote, she'd mention it so casually, "Lydia, this one's fun. Keep it," or "Lydia, this could save your life. Don't let your father find out." She had no idea I didn't even have the right to play with these things anymore.

When I was little, I didn't know anything.

I had no idea my father was a righteous magician, or that my mother was an evil witch. I didn't realize those bottles and jars were things nobody was supposed to see.

All I knew was that the bugs my mother sent were beautiful. Some were gold, some were see-through, and some even glowed in the dark.

I brought them over to Sophia, and her face went white as a sheet.

I told her not to be afraid, because the bug didn't bite. But it bit her anyway.

Sophia was burning up with a fever for three days, and I was locked outside the house the whole time.

During those three days, it rained heavily. I scraped my knee, and the wound lost its color under the constant washing of the rain.

My father never spared me a glance.

He spent all three days in Sophia's room, making sure she had water and medicine. He cared for her more than my mother ever cared for me.

On the third day, when Sophia's fever finally broke, my father came out, pulled out every single bottle and jar I had, smashed them all right in front of me, then threw them into the fire.

The flames flickered across his face. His look stayed as cold and distant as ever.

"Your mother can't raise you right. I'll be the one to teach you," he said.

From that day on, I never played with those bugs in front of anyone.

I hid those things away, burying them deeper.

My father thought he'd burned them all, but he was wrong.

Later, my mother sent more, and I found a new place to stash them.

I hid them in this secret room, a room my father would never set foot in.

I pulled out a packet of Miredust from the box.

It came from Westfall. My mother used to brag it could drop a full-grown cow.

I poured the whole thing into a bowl of water, gave it a quick stir, and carried it over to the bed.

I sat down, reached out, and propped up the back of Orion's head with my hand.

His head drooped, his hair sliding through my fingers.

I brought the bowl to his lips and tried to force a mouthful in, but half of it spilled out.

Water trickled down the corner of his mouth, ran over his chin, and dripped onto his collar.

I gently wiped him with a handkerchief, my fingers lingering on his Adam's apple, then sliding from his chin down to his collarbone.

His skin was soft. The chains pressed against his wrists, leaving a red mark.

I brushed my fingers over that red mark, then took a big gulp from the bowl myself, leaned down, and fed it to him mouth-to-mouth.

He had no idea what was happening. He didn't know what I was doing, and he didn't know that from this day forward, he belonged to me.