Page 67 of He Who Ignites The Flame
“I used to tell my sister stories about you,” I whispered.
She didn’t speak, but I felt her lean against my shoulder.
“She always hoped she’d get to see you reincarnated and meet you one day,” I said. “She used to make these...” I huffed a laugh at the memory, my eyes burning as I remembered how small she was. “She used to make these flower crowns from the little blossoms that bloomed along the creekside of Moonhaven.
Lucia didn’t speak, but her expression softened.
“She made them for years, practicing until they were near perfect,” I said, my voice growing thick as I thought of how stupid it was that I was here and Calliope wasn’t. She should be here, not me. “She always talked about how one day, when you returned, she would present you with one made of the jasmine blossoms that grow in Selene’s temple.”
“You were very close to her, weren’t you?” she muttered, her voice a bit more even, though her hands still trembled.
“She was everything,” I admitted. “You would have liked her. She was nothing like me. She was everything good in the world, deserved everything it had to offer.”
“That same good lives within you,” she said, and I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge her words.
“Your father was abusive,” she said, not quite a question.
I drew a deep breath and nodded. “He was. Claimed he was molding me into the perfect future Kyrios of House Stoicheion, molding Cali into the perfect, submissive female to one day be mated to someone of importance.”
There was a strange relief in saying her name out loud, to not hold her close but to share what remained of her existence with someone for the first time in decades.
“I…” She hesitated, and I tilted my head to get a better look at her. “I was furious when I learned of what your father had subjected you and Calliope to. So few of our kind are able to bear children, and for those who are able, for them to treat such a precious gift so cruelly…”
She drew a deep breath. “When I met you in that cell, saw how tightly you had locked yourself away from others…I almost saw myself. A child who’d been beaten down into submission too many times, forced to do whatever it took to survive, fearful of trusting anyone or anything because everyone had failed me.”
Something curled in my gut at her words. She…saw herself in me?
“Did your…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question.
“They don’t get the privilege of being called my parents—they were never that,” she said, unable to look at me. “They kept me hidden, locked away from the sunlight, from the moonlight, for most of my life. For so many years, I was a prisoner… sold and used.”
The flames surged to life beneath my skin, white-hot anger flooding my system.
“Damien and Zephyr found me, pulled me out, helped me heal, but…”
“It’s something you never fully heal from,” I said when she couldn’t finish.
She nodded slowly. “I swore I would do everything in my power to ensure no other child suffered that way. I hated when I found you, when I learned of what had happened in my absence, how I’d not looked into it sooner. I could have prevented it all.”
“Don’t put that on yourself,” I said. “We were young when you were killed in Moonhaven, and he was really good at hiding what he truly was. He fooled a lot of people.”
She drew a shaky breath but nodded. “Sorry you had to see that.”
I shook my head. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that. I’ll tell you what,” I said, releasing her to stand. “Since you shared your deepest fear, I’ll share mine.”
Her dark brows furrowed.
“I’m scared of spiders,” I said.
She cocked a brow. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
I scoffed. “And here I thought you were the master of telling the truth from lies.”
She blinked.
“Try again. I’m not lying.”
Her lips twitched, revealing the faintest hint of a smile, and she stifled a laugh.
