Page 30 of Owned

Was it watching me?

Don’t think about it.

My hands shook as I fumbled around, looking for anything new— The folders with the information about me that Lucian had been collecting since I had first started classes at Messana Academy were in an obvious drawer, and a bitter taste flooded my mouth as I flipped through the familiar documents.

There was nothing else.

No false bottom in the drawer.

No secret compartments.

I was a fool—what was I looking for?

Evidence? But evidence of what?

Why would Lucian keep anythinghere?

If he was keeping secrets from his sons, why would he leave it where they might find it?

I sat back on my heels and glared up at the pulsing red orb.

“Fuck you,” I muttered.

I picked up the folders and papers and pushed them back into the drawer, but the sight of my name on one of the pages made me pause.

He shouldn’t get to keep these.

I wouldn’t allow it—not this time.

I gathered the folders into my arms and struggled to stand. My steps were unsteady as I moved toward the fireplace. It was cold and dark, but I dropped to my knees in front of it. The stained parchment spilled over the floor as I dropped the folders and focused on the fire.

The logs were blackened, but not fully burnt, and I pushed my hands toward them and closed my eyes. There was still heat in the logs—hidden embers—and I reached out with my magic to urge them back to life the same way I had with the candles.

Candles were simple.

At least they were now.

I barely remembered a time when I’d struggled to light them.

Only a few months ago, lighting a fire with my magic would have been out of the question.

But here I was.

A smile tugged at my lips as the warmth of the fledgling flames licked at my palms.

I hesitated only for a moment before I pulled my hands out of the fire and began to feed the documents to the fire, one by one. Each sheet blackened and curled, consumed by the hungry blaze. It was an insignificant victory, but a victory nonetheless, and I savored the sight of the documents being reduced to ash.

With every paper that burned, the chains around my spirit loosened. The magic I’d stolen—from my stepbrothers, from Clara—coursed through my veins with a forbidden energy.

I was a thief… a murderer.

But it was the first time I had felt this way since I’d been dragged into this house—a fleeting sense of empowerment, a glimpse of what life could be without Lucian’s shadow looming over me.

The last of the papers crumbled to nothing, leaving only embers behind that faded into gray flakes that disappeared into powder when I dared to brush them with my fingertips. I allowed myself a moment of satisfaction.

This was symbolic—nothing more.

But it was my victory.

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