Page 116 of The Rose in the Shadows

She knew she wouldn’t see any of her friends again. In truth, she didn’t mind that fact though, because she didn’t think she could handle the shame of apologizing for all the awful things she had done.

Thinking about Lorelai was hard. That wasn’t supposed to have happened. After she started recruiting others to join her mission, she’d noticed she had a few zealots on the team - people who simply wanted to kill anyone in the castle. Part of her knew they were a liability, but Shadow Camilla hardly cared about a little extra blood being spilled.

I’m going to be sick again,she thought before leaning over the toilet.

She couldn’t even keep down water. Her body wouldn’t handle it. The shakes came as soon as she finished retching. Those were the worst. The tremors shook her entire body from head to toe. Sometimes, she shook so violently she would bang her head against the cell wall and knock herself unconscious.

“My,” a feminine voice called to her. “What an awful smell.”

Camilla used all her strength to steady her body before turning to meet her grandmother’s gaze.

Alina stood tall, nose wrinkled in disgust as she peered down at her. She wore her usual simple gown, her gray hair tied back at the nape. To anyone else, she might look like she had kind eyes, but Camilla knew better. She had grown up dealingwith her grandmother’s temper, unrealistic expectations, and unfailing manipulations.

Nothing she’d done in life was ever good enough to impress her grandmother.

Which meant all Camilla had ever done was disappoint the woman, which in turn simply incited her wrath.

“What do you want?” Camilla breathed, voice hoarse.

Alina gave a close-mouthed smile as she batted away a fly. “Oh, I came to thank you, my dear. You played your part absolutely wonderfully.”

Camilla frowned, stomach churning uncomfortably. Her grandmother had never once thanked her in all her life. Why would she be doing it now, when Camilla had failed so profoundly?

Alina had been the first person Camilla had told about the prophecy. There was no love or trust in their relationship, but Alina was the matriarch of House Hypatia; who else was Camilla supposed to go to? To her surprise, it had seemed to be something that bonded them finally. Alina was sure it was Camilla’s destiny to find that prophecy. She was convinced Camilla had to be the one to stop Thea.

For the first time in her life, her grandmother looked at her like she was worthy.

Or at least… she had looked at her like she was valuable for somethingotherthan marrying Clayton Vail.

She hadn’t wanted to use black magic, not at first. She knew the laws, and the dangers associated with it. But Alina hadn’t even given her a choice. She’d dragged Camilla to the Hypatia Estate and forced her to make her first sacrifice - a small barn kitten. Then it was a deer. Then a horse. Then, a kitchen servant.

Camilla felt each death, like small dark marks on her soul, until she didn’t. Eventually, the shadows corrupted her soentirely that the death stopped bothering her. She only cared about getting more power.

“Thea is alive,” Camilla reminded her. “That’s hardly a success.”

Alina's lips quirked in a venomous smile as she slowly reached into the pouch at her side and pulled out a small glass vial. Camilla’s senses reached out towards it immediately. Her skin crawled, her stomach clenched, and the pain in her head reached an impossible peak. There was blood in that vial.

“Oh, but my girl,” she mused, not looking away from the glass in her hands. “You got me this. And that was all Ireallyneeded you for. That and to stir a little distrust in the commoners.”

“Is that-”

“Theadora’s? Of course!”

Camilla frowned, trying desperately to calm the magic in her that was reaching towards that vial. “I don’t understand, Grandmother.”

“It always surprises me how stupid you all are,” Alina laughed, finally meeting Camilla’s gaze.

Her eyes.

Her grandmother had always had dull hazel eyes that had lacked any light, but now they were positively luminous.

And vibrantlygreen.

The elder woman reached up and pulled the pin out of her hair. It grew in length as it fell around her shoulders, morphing from the pin-straight gray Camilla was accustomed to into a wild mane of vibrant red curls. The wrinkles around her eyes and mouth smoothed themselves, and her facial features shifted until everything that was her grandmother was gone, and in her place stood a young woman. She was tall and thinly boned, with porcelain skill and a wild edge to her expression.

Camilla stumbled back instantly, at first in fear, before falling to her knees. Even as her mind struggled to function through thehaze of withdrawal, she knew to bow her head to the Goddess in front of her.

“Now that’s more like it!” Pasnia clapped giddily. “The look on your face is just delightful.”

---