“Your magic is a disgrace, Lailah. Asin. A darkness that should have been locked away—not flaunted, not exploited. If Clyde hadn’t taken you, we would all still be cleaning up the chaos you leave in your wake.”
My magic trembles beneath my skin, begging for release, but I clench my fists to hold it back. I can’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me lose control.
Not here.
Notever.
Lucas steps forward, his face stern.
“Mother,” he says firmly, his voice filled with quiet anger. “You’ve said enough. No, more than enough.”
Agatha’s lips press into a thin line, her gaze flicking to him.
“Don’t lecture me, Lucas. You don’t know what it was like to?—”
“Careful, Agatha,” my father interjects smoothly, almost amused. “You’re starting to bore me.”
Agatha freezes, the cracks in her composure momentarily visible before she smooths them over with a deep breath. Her gaze turns cold, but she says nothing.
My hands tremble at my sides, my magic still stirring beneath my skin. I dig my nails into my palms, trying to anchor myself.
“Shall we continue with the festivities?” my father drawls, as though this exchange is nothing more than a mild annoyance to him.
Agatha stiffens but doesn’t reply. Her features harden, her eyes darting briefly to Clyde with a trace of irritation before returning to me. I swallow hard, the ache in my chest tightening as the rejection lingers.
She’ll never see me. She never has.I take a slow, shaky breath, forcing myself to steady the storm of magic clawing at my skin.You’re better than this. Control it. Don’t let her win.
The thought gives me just enough resolve to raise my chin and meet her gaze.
“Thank you for sharing your feelings, step-mother,” I say, my words carefully measured. “I’ll be sure to cherish them as much as you cherish me.”
Agatha tilts her head slightly, her lips curling into a faint, bitter smile. But she doesn’t linger. Instead, her attention shifts past me, drawn to something behind my shoulder. I follow her eyes, turningjust enough to catch Casper and my stepmother locked in a silent exchange. His jaw is tight, eyes hard.
When I glance back, my stepmother’s gaze cuts to me again before sliding once more, this time to Jason. Her lips curl into a faint, bitter smile as her voice changes. It’s lighter, almost sweet, and I can hear the thinly veiled calculation in her tone.
“You must be my new son-in-law,” she says, stepping forward to meet Jason.
I instinctively lower my eyes as she passes by, trying to ground myself in anything but the deep-set ache she’s left behind.
I stand there, rooted to the floor, while my father and Lucas watch. The spectre of abandonment looms around me, suffocating, dredging up old wounds I thought were buried. The sting of tears burns at the corners of my eyes. My throat tightens, and I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek, the pungent taste of blood grounding me as I try to keep the floodgates closed.
I take a shaky breath, forcing myself to regain control. The smile I offer my father is fragile, a thin mask I can barely hold together.
"I think I could really use a drink," I say, my voice light, but the emptiness behind the words is unmistakable.
Without waiting for a response, I move quickly, stepping ahead of my father. I can feel Lucas trailing behind, and I can barely bring myself to acknowledge him.
"Lailah..." Lucas's voice is soft, filled with concern, as he matches my pace, but I don't stop.
"Not now," I snap, frustration spilling over in my tone.
I push through the doors of the throne room, needing to escape, needing to be anywhere buthere. My steps quicken, every stride urgent as I race toward a quiet corner where I can breathe, where I can feel something other than the crushing weight of everything pressing down on me.
Just as I round the corner, an arm wraps around my waist, pulling me into an unexpected embrace.
“Lucas, I said not now!” I snap, ready to break free.
But then a hand covers my mouth, and I look up to find dark,haunting green eyes. Casper’s pulse thrums beneath his palm, and instinctively, I grip his hand over my lips. His gaze is soft but intense, as if he feels every crack in me, as if he’s trying to hold me together, even as I fall apart. I close my eyes, a shaky breath escaping as I try to steady myself.
