Page 2 of A Sin So Pure

Piercing pale blue eyes slide across the room with calculated precision, clocking their surroundings before meeting mine. Steely recognition frosts over those icy irises, like he knows this isn’t a gentle bedside visit from a loving daughter.

“Nora.”

Pride’s voice is rough from disuse. He licks his chapped lips, smacking them together in a way that makes my own curl into a grimace.

“I’m sorry I had to interrupt your nap, but I have a rather important question,” I say, holding up the tonic and giving it a little swirl. “I need to know how you got your hands on this.”

Lightning strikes, spearing the low-lit room with shards of pure white; it’s a stark contrast to the warm wood tones andamber sconces dotted across the walls. With the windows behind me, I’m sure I resemble a storybook villain, backlit and looming over Pride.

Thunder sounds not long after, the eye of the storm inching closer to us.

Pride’s focus shifts to the bottle in my hand, greedy desperation tightening his features. He manages to lift himself into a sitting position, though his arms shake, and his nose scrunches in pain with each movement.

One trembling hand reaches out to me.

“Give me the tonic,” he says. “I need a stronger dosage.”

I place it in my lap, out of reach.

“Tell me who made it, then I’ll think about giving you more.”

A growl rips from his throat, rage pinching his brows. “You’ve always been an ungrateful child, but you know better than to disobey a direct order. Now, hand me the tonic.”

“And I thought you’d have better sense than to bring banned Seelie goods onto this side of the Veil. It’s one thing to use it while you’re in the Human Realm. But here? What would Silas do if he found out?”

The mention of the Unseelie King has Pride’s jaw clenching.

I flip the corked bottle, tossing it in the air and catching it like a baseball.

“Tell me who,” I demand.

“The Seelie exiles. Some are healers,” he says between bared teeth. “They need the extra cash.”

I tongue my cheek. “For how long?” I ask.

I have my suspicions, but I want to hear it confirmed by him. The pieces of the puzzle I’ve long sought to solve are slow to fit together, but between bits of memory and this new information, the truth takes shape.

Pride chews on the inside of his cheek, a petulant frown marring his face.

If he was strong enough, he would have used his magic to take it from me already. But I’ve yet to see even a whisper of shadow come to his aid. Magic has abandoned him, and he knowsjusthow helpless that makes him.

Especially against me; the realization sends a thrill down my spine. My magic is of a different breed. Itlikesto kill.

It thrums at my fingertips, impatiently waiting for my call to action.

“Do I need to resort todiscipline, Pride?” I ask. “Your methods of parenting may have been unorthodox, but they did teach me exactly what I need to do to get someone to talk.”

I clock the moment resignation softens his jaw.

“Your father helped me find a healer years ago,” he chokes out, as if he’s ashamed of his answer. “You know who.”

My smile falls, but I quickly school my features into cold neutrality.

It doesn’t change the past, but it’s a comfort to know with finality. Someone else pulled the trigger, but Pride’s greed loaded the gun that killed my parents.

“Thank you for your honesty. This will help greatly as I consider the next steps for our House.” I pause, then smile. It’s a fake, overly cheery kind of grin that drips sarcasm. “See? I can be grateful.”

Twenty-two years ago, Pride saved me. He swept in, a false hero, and took an orphaned six-year-old in as his own. But I wasn’t wanted in the way that a parent desires a child. I was a happy accident that fell into his lap. An asset he added to his collection. A tool to mold into a weapon that he could lord over his enemies.

---