Page 72 of XV (Fifteen) (War of Roses 1)

Chapter 21

The memory is a cruel one, beginning the way the worst ones always do. With her.

Soft fingertips parted my hair in a gentle caress, coaxing me awake. “Happy birthday.” The sweet voice sounded warmer than the purest ray of sunshine. So very beautiful. God, I’d give anything to hear it again… “My sweet girl,” she murmured. “Already so big.”

I peeled my eyes open, always in awe of her quiet beauty. Scars haunted her blue eyes, but I was young enough then to mistake them as a natural part of what made my mother so delicate. Her pain was a beacon, broadcasting to anyone and everyone the purity of her soul. It was the only thing of value she had left.

And for that reason, everyone wanted it.

“I can’t stay long,” she warned before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I just wanted to wish you a wonderful day. Seven, already.”

It sounded like such a prestigious age when she uttered it. Seven years. Seven long, painful years that had taken their toll on her youthful features. Only through memory can I track how she’d withered away right before my eyes. Her smile was fainter that day than any before it, shielding a million secrets I’d never learn.

“I have to go now.” Noise in the hallway drew her attention and she hurried to her feet, smoothing the skirt of her dress.

Her visits had become less frequent by then. Sometimes days would pass without one. I’d only catch glimpses of her on my way through the halls as I assisted Martha, one of the servants. Always with Briar, her face turned away from me as though I didn’t exist.

“Wait.” A whine tugged at my voice, making her frown. “Please…can you sing it to me again? Just one more time?”

Her lips twitched, but with a wary glance over her shoulder, she returned to my side, placing her mouth near my ear. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you.” Her fingers returned to stroking my hair, and I curled into her side, relishing the few extra moments of her attention. “Happy birthday, dear Elena. Happy birthday to you, my precious Rose…”

“Eat.” His voice shatters the memory. The remnants of it cut into me—all of those questions I never asked. Like why she called meElenaonly then, once a year, hidden away in a song.

Or why a monster would ever think to call me by it years after she’s been gone.

“I saideat.”

Something clatters onto the floor by my side. A tray, I see once I peel my eyes open. It contains a sandwich and a bottle of water. I ignore them both by turning my face into the space between my raised knees.

As he has for what feels like an eternity, Mischa lingers for only a second before retreating from the room, slamming the door in his wake. I’m on a lower level. A basement, I think? Somewhere he dragged me after I attacked him. Newer memories meld with older ones, distorting the past few hours. Twenty…thirty?

Three days. I’ve been in this room for three days. It’s starting to smell.I’mstarting to smell. I’m starting to die.

My muscles ache, wasting away as my stomach protests days of hunger. My throat is so dry that each breath irritates my tender esophagus, but at least there’s no moisture left in me to waste on tears. Without the fear of triggering any sobbing, I delve into those dark, deep memories I’ve left untouched for over sixteen years.

I chase my mother.

And she avoids me, even now, lurking in the depths of my psyche that hurt to reach.

I was her biggest secret, hidden away in a room at the very back of the servant’s wing. I was her greatest treasure. Only now do I realize just what she left behind for me, as her legacy. Therealreason why Robert Sr. reclaimed her, even after she’d been tainted by his enemy. Why Robert wanted me.

We look alike, after all. Our eyes were the same, well beyond any resemblance we shared with Briar. Our expressions were fragile, sporting tiny, hairline cracks. To monstrous men, those flaws glowed like tempting signs proclaiming, I am weak. Break me. Destroy me.

In the end, my mother destroyed herself in silence, with the aid of a razor blade and a running bath. By doing so, she passed her curse onto me. She revealed the only way out for someone like us: A doe can only survive at the mercy of a wolf for so long.

“Damn you. Eat!”

Another monstrous clang rouses me from my thoughts, but it’s harder to leave my head for the real world. My eyes refuse to focus. It’s bright. Someone turned a light on, illuminating my sparse surroundings and the concrete floor.

Four days. It’s been four days since he brought me here when I refused to move from the pathetic puddle he’d left on the ground of the upstairs drawing room.

Four days since I stopped eating or drinking.

Four days since I first utilized the only gift my mother ever gave me: silence. She used it as a weapon, breaking it only on the rarest occasions, like my meager birthdays, honored once a year for just a few minutes at a time. Briar had parties. She had gifts beyond anything I could ever dream of receiving.

I had Marnie’s love, the cruelest present of them all.

“Eat.” Once again, Mischa’s voice yanks me from the past. Or does he? Is he even here, or have I imagined him? My mother’s face morphs into his, invading my one and only sanctuary. “Fuck—eat!”

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