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Amabel Harrow
As we left Mother’s office, I let my amusement linger just a little longer, savoring the thrill of the night’s revelation. Poor, stupid Serafina. She really thought she had won something. That she had somehow escaped us.
I glanced at Eluned, her laughter still bubbling beneath the surface, eyes bright with mischief. She would not sleep tonight, not with a scheme to plot, not with an opportunity to make Serafina suffer handed to us so neatly. I admired her enthusiasm, but she lacked patience. She thought of cruelty as a pastime, a delightful game.
I knew better.
Cruelty was a tool. One best wielded with precision.
As we walked toward our rooms, Eluned was already prattling on about what we could do. Wouldn’t it be delicious to ruin all of her clothing? Or perhaps slip something into her tea to turn her tongue black when she speaks to her husband?
Childish. Entertaining, yes, but I thought bigger.
“Eluned,” I murmured, my voice smooth as satin, “you’re thinking too small.”
She scoffed, but the flicker of challenge in her gaze told me she was listening.
“Oh? And what do you suggest, dearest sister?”
I let my silence stretch just a little too long before answering.
“She’s leaving us, finally,” I said, tapping a nail against my chin. “This isn’t about making her trip on the stairs one last time. This is about making certain she never forgets what she’s leaving behind.”
“And what would that be?” Eluned’s lips curled.
I turned my gaze toward the stairs. The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of settling wood, the whisper of wind against the windows.
“Us,” I said simply. “She’s gotten far too bold lately, don’t you think? She’s forgotten her place. We must remind her while setting her up to fail with her new husband.”
Eluned hummed in thought, fingers dancing absently over the carved railing as we ascended the stairs.
“Shehasbeen rather feisty since the baby was born,” she admitted. “Something about the child seems to have given her a backbone.”
I rolled my eyes. That infant had turned Serafina into something dangerously close to a mother wolf. Protective, stubborn, willing to endure suffering for the sake of something other than herself. It made her reckless.
Mother was right about one thing, though. Serafina was still weak. Still far too easy to manipulate. She might think herself strong now, with a brat in her arms and an escape route in hand, but she would always be what she had been from the start: Prey.
Andwewere hunters.
I let my own smile unfurl, slow and deliberate.
“I think our dear stepsister deserves a surprise she won’t soon forget. Something humiliating. Something demeaning.” I turned to face Eluned fully now. “How can we ensure her husband’s first impression of her is horrific while reminding her of where she belongs?”
“Once upon a time, an ugly little girl got ideas that she was special, and her loving stepsisters stepped on her.” Eluned grinned, and I knew then that we were of the same mind.
Serafina might believe she had escaped, but she would never be free of us.
Not ever.
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Eluned Harrow
Oh, I liked this game already!
Amabel always had the best ideas. She thought big. Bigger than my little tricks, my petty mischief. But I was the one who made things happen. I was the spark that set the fire. She planned. Iacted.
