"She's very particular about names right now."
"I noticed."
We settled in the living room—me on the couch with Alexandra in my lap, Rae curled into an armchair with her tea. The afternoon light slanted through the windows, golden and gentle. For a few minutes, we just existed together. Rae asked about classes. I gave vague answers. Alexandra showed me her stuffed wolf, which she'd named "Woof" with devastating simplicity.
It was nice. It was exactly what I'd needed.
Which meant, of course, that I had to ruin it.
"Can I ask you something?"
Rae's eyes sharpened slightly, though her posture stayed relaxed. "Always."
“Was Twilson always such—” I covered Alexandra’s ear, “—an ass?”
She didn't flinch. Didn't even look surprised. Just took a slow sip of her tea and said, "Yes."
"That's it? Just yes?"
"What else do you want me to say?" She set down her cup. "Twilson's been running Frosthaven for decades. He's good at his job, if you define 'his job' as maintaining order and cataloging anomalies. He's less good when something doesn't fit his categories."
The words landed with weight. I thought about the cafeteria. The whispers. The pointed comments about fairness and favoritism.
"He went after you too," I said. Not a question.
"He went after me differently." Rae's voice was calm—not bitter, not traumatized. Just matter-of-fact. "I was a bigger threat to his worldview. Hybrid abilities, multiple bonds, the whole unprecedented package. He reported me to the council. Had me monitored, investigated, contained." She smiled, but it had an edge. "The old council, I mean. Before we replaced them."
She shrugged like it was nothing. "Twilson lost his institutional backing, but he didn't lose his instincts. He still watches. Still categorizes. Still gets prickly when someone refuses to fit his boxes."
Alexandra squirmed in my lap, bored with the adult conversation. I handed her Woof and she immediately began an elaborate game that seemed to involve the stuffed wolf climbing my arm like a mountain.
"What did he do to you specifically?" I asked. "Back then?"
Rae was quiet for a moment. "PE," she said finally. "I got attacked during a training exercise. Self-defense situation, except I didn't just defend myself—I healed myself. Without meaning to. Without knowing I could."
My chest tightened. "That's how they found out about your abilities."
"That's how everyone found out." She met my eyes. "The thing about Twilson is that he's not evil. He just believes very deeply in systems, and when something threatens those systems, he responds with everything he has. It's not personal. Well, if it is personal, unfortunately that is probably because you are related to me."
"It feels very personal."
"It always does." She reached across the space between us and squeezed my hand. "But here's what I learned, Lumi: his power only extends as far as you let it. He can watch you and report you and make your life difficult, but he can't define you. Not unless you let him."
I wanted to believe that. Wanted to feel the certainty in her voice as my own.
But Rae had won her battle. She'd overthrown councils and found her mates and built this warm, chaotic life full of family.
I hadn't won anything yet.
The front door banged open with the subtlety of a small explosion.
"Honey, I'm home!" Ash's voice preceded him into the living room, all theatrical cheer. "And I brought— oh, hey, little arsonist. Didn't know you were visiting."
I raised an eyebrow. "Little arsonist?"
"You know what you did." He dropped onto the couch beside me, close enough that Alexandra immediately abandoned her wolf-climbing game and lunged for him. He caught her with practiced ease. "Hey, monster. You terrorizing our guest?"
"Not guest," Alexandra informed him. "Lulu."
