If I don’t return, it means they’ve found me. The contact will know what to do.
There was no name. No signature. Just a final warning, meant for someone else.
But someone had taken the next page. The last entry, the final piece—gone.
I stood there, breathing hard, the words burning into my memory. If they’ve found me. Found her for what? For this research? For getting too close?
I couldn’t stay here. If my father caught me now—if he saw what I’d found—
I folded the notes, slipping them into my coat, and made my way back through the halls. The house remained quiet, my father still in his study, lost in his own thoughts of Alstone’s betrayal.
By the time I stepped into the cold night air, one thing was certain.
My mother hadn’t just died in a vampire attack.
She had been silenced.
46
Marigold
The path backto Wickem blurred in the dark, lit only by the low pulse of magic still crackling in the air. My limbs ached, my thoughts scattered, every step pulling me further from the fight but no closer to steady.
“Come on,” Elio murmured, tugging lightly on my elbow. “You’re barely standing. I know somewhere safe.”
I didn’t argue. I didn’t have the energy to.
We climbed the narrow tower steps in silence. Elio’s sanctuary opened around us, bathed in the pre-dawn light. The enchanted dome overhead reflected a sky of shifting constellations, though the stars outside were beginning to pale with the coming dawn. It felt different tonight. More grounded. Morereal. Like Elio himself when he dropped his carefully crafted masks.
“The stars are different tonight,” I murmured, stepping into the room. The constellations wheeled slowly above us in his illusions, their glow softer than before. I traced one of the patterns absently, letting the familiar light soothe my fraying nerves.
“You need rest,” he said gently, his hand brushing against my arm. His touch was warm, steady. Safe.
“I can’t.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I turned to him, exhaustion dragging at my limbs. “Every time I close my eyes, I see Keane’s portals. See the way his uncle looked at me, like he already owned him…” My voice broke, and I bit down on the flood of fear threatening to consume me.
“I know,” Elio whispered. He stepped closer, guiding me to the worn couch by the window where we’d spent hours poring over his mother’s letters.
Echo settled on the windowsill, her scales shifting slowly through muted colors—deep blues, soft purples, the shades of a restless heart.
I wanted to pull away. I should pull away.
But I didn’t.
My body betrayed me before my mind could catch up—leaning into him, seeking his warmth, his steadiness.
“Why did you really bring me up here?” I asked softly, my cheek resting against his shoulder. “This isn’t just about getting me to rest.”
His hand slid to my back, tracing soothing circles that made my breathing slow. “Because you need somewhere safe to break. Somewhere you don’t have to be strong for everyone else.”
My throat tightened. He wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t want to admit it—not to him, not to myself.
“I can’t break,” I whispered. “If I do… I don’t know if I’ll be able to put myself back together.”
“You can.” He turned slightly, facing me fully. His usual perfect mask was gone, leaving only raw sincerity in his eyes. “And I’ll be here when you do. I’ve got you.”
Something inside me cracked. I made a soft, strangled sound and buried my face in his chest. The tears came hard and fast, fear and guilt spilling out in ragged sobs. He didn’t speak—just held me tighter, his hand stroking my hair, his breath steady and grounding.
“I miss him so much,” I choked out between sobs. “Everything feels wrong without Keane. Like… like I lost him for good, and I don’t even know how to fix it.”