She smooths her expensive-looking dress, ensures her updo is perfect, and finally looks over at me with narrowed eyes. Unlike Alaric, who looks exactly as wintry as his son, she looks more like the brief glimpse I got of Everett’s sister in a photo long ago, with large brown eyes and pretty, soft features. But unlike her daughter, her hair is bleached crisp blonde, and she’s missing the sweet smile.
Everett’s mother wrinkles her nose at me. “Reagan, finish her makeup. She still looks like a corpse. Which I guess isn’t too surprising, considering she should be dead.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Everett growls.
His parents exchange displeased looks.
Reagan shuffles. “I really don’t think she wants me to?—”
“Who cares what she wants? She’ll be in a coffin soon, anyway,” Daphne interrupts.
“Daphne,” Alaric finally chides. “Thetelum’sfate isn’t final until we discuss things with her. Until then, mind your manners. This is our heir’s renowned keeper, after all.”
He strolls toward me with a fake, white smile. “At long last, here you are. I’m afraid the rest of my quintet is still preparing for the trial and could not join us for this little chat, but if you make the right choice, you’ll have the privilege of meeting the rest of them later, over dinner.”
He moves as if to help me up from the chair. I stand on my own, shoving the chair back as hard as possible with the backs of my legs so it topples over. Glaring at the asshole who voted for Amato’s death sentence, I shuffle to the couch to sit beside Everett as well as I can in this fucking chained-up jacket.
The blue-haired female ghost I saw earlier drifts to stand directly beside Daphne Frost to wave at me. I ignore her.
When Reagan tries to leave the room, Daphne stops her.
“Wait. You might need to cover up my son’s face if the garish stories we’ve heard are true. Alaric?”
Everett’s father steps closer and pulls the bag off Everett’s head, revealing his face.
Daphne full-on screams, utterly horrified.
Gods, I fucking hate her.
My elemental looks as ridiculously gorgeous as ever, staring down his mother with cold eyes and a smirk. That smirk is everything to me. Everett might worry about what I think of hisappearance, but in this moment, it’s clear that there was another reason he kept the scar.
If anything, it makes him look less like his father. Less like one ofthem.
“Gods on high, it’s worse than I imagined,” Alaric sighs as he sits beside his wife, rubbing his temple as if a headache is brewing.
Now Daphne is dramatically fanning away tears. “Leave at once, Reagan. Clearly, nothing can coverthat. Arati have mercy, why did it have to be true? To think, I’m now the mother of two disfigured children!”
I don’t know what she’s talking about, but her words infuriate Everett. Despite the shit they forced down his throat to tamper with his abilities, snowflakes begin to fall in this room as the frost patterns on the windows grow.
Reagan rushes out of the room, smart enough to know not to stick around.
The look Everett gives his mother is pure savage contempt. “Pretend you were a mother to me all you want, but leave my sister out of this. Aside from birthing her and getting the hell out of her life, you never did a damn thing in Heidi’s favor. She deserved better than this fucked-up family.”
“Watch how you speak about our family,” Alaric begins. “Frosts do not?—”
“Frosts do not give a single flying fuck about anything except themselves,” Everett snaps. “Frosts are shallow, spineless, corrupt, pathetic, whining little?—”
His father strikes him across the face.
Hard.
I clench my teeth so hard they almost break as anger rushes hot and fast to the surface. I may be hindered now, but this asshole just signed his death certificate.
“Alaric!” Daphne protests. “His face?—”
“Is a disgrace to the Frost name now, anyway,” the elemental asshole huffs, straightening his tie and taking a deep breath for composure.
I’m ready to leap over the coffee table and shave his face off with my teeth, but Everett laughs. It’s a cold, hard sound that shuts his parents up as he looks back at them.
