“You ungrateful, wretched girl. Where would you be if you hadn’t stayed with me these last three years?”
I shake my head, biting back my answer. If she hadn’t manipulated me into staying with her, if she hadn’t dragged me to a bargain broker and convinced me to enter a legally binding agreement, I would be exactly where I want to be. Away from my stepfamily. Free. I’d already be touring with a troupe of musicians, the way I plan to do once this is all over.
If only I hadn’t been so blind. So vulnerable. Her words seemed genuine, and I was stupid enough to believe them.
I promised your father I’d take care of you. The only way I can keep that promise is if you make a bargain to stay with me. Give me this peace of mind so I can fulfill my promise. It’s your fault he died, Ember. After everything you’ve done, after everything you’ve taken from us, it’s the least you can do. You are a bad girl. Dangerous. You know this. You need someone to guide you. Someone to obey.
While half of what she said was true—that I am guilty of my father’s death, bad, and dangerous—her motive had been a lie. But she won. I hardly gave it a second thought before our bargain was set in stone.
Until you turn nineteen, you will remain in my care and live under my roof. And you will obey me. Do you agree to this bargain?
Yes.
My stepmother takes a step closer, lips peeled into a snarl. “For three years, I’ve provided for you, cared for you. Gave you a roof over your head, let you play your infernal music. And how do you repay—”
A dark laugh escapes my lips. “Do you think I don’t know?”
Her chest heaves. “Know what?”
“You didn’t trick me into a bargain so you cancarefor me. You did it for the money. You did it because of my father’s will. Did you think I’d never find out?” My body quakes as anger storms through my veins. I pin my arms close to my sides to still them.
Mrs. Coleman folds her hands at her waist, a smug smile tugging her lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your stipend. The two thousand moonstone chips you get every month because ofme,” I say. According to my father’s will, she receives a generous allowance for my upkeep until the day I turn nineteen—so long as I remain under her care until then. After that, I claim my inheritance whether I live with her or not, and the choice to continue paying her falls to me. She’s yet to discover my plan, however. After I donate my inheritance to charity, neither she nor I will see that money ever again.
She doesn’t bother looking ashamed. In fact, she seems more amused than anything. “How did you find out?”
“Being easily forgotten has its uses,” I say. “I overheard you lamenting over your woes to Imogen.”
Her cheeks redden at my answer. Averting her gaze, she wanders over to my bedside table where my silver mask rests. Taking the mask in her hands, she says, “I had to do what was necessary to care for my girls.”
“You could have just asked me.” My voice quivers with restraint. All I want to do is yell. “You could haveaskedme to stay and ensure you’d be provided for. You could have treated me like family—”
She whips her gaze back to me and takes a forbidding step closer. “You are not family. And don’t you dare say I haven’t asked.”
“Manipulating me into making a bargain isn’t asking.”
“Manipulating, pah!” She takes a few slow steps to close the distance between us and stares down her nose at me. “You may think you have it rough, but you know nothing of pain. You know nothing of hardship.”
My current circumstances beg to differ, but I purse my lips to keep from arguing. She isn’t worth my breath. She’ll never see her own vileness. I’ll always deserve her hatred, always be the villain in her story. And not for killing her husband. After he died, she made it quite clear it was his fortune she mourned, not his life.
She burns me with a scowl for a few tense seconds, then hands me my mask. I clasp the other end, but she doesn’t release it. I tug harder, but it makes her step uncomfortably close. “When you claim your father’s inheritance, you don’t plan on giving us a single moonstone chip, do you?”
I could lie. I could tell her I’ll consider it, perhaps manipulate her the same way she’s manipulated me. And yet, I don’t have it in me. Not now. Not when I’m so tired andsoclose to freedom.
Holding her gaze steady, I speak the truth. “No. You’ll never see another chip of my father’s fortune for as long as you live.”
“I could force you. I could order you right now to hand it over to me.”
I shrug. “It would be an order made in vain. I could neither obey nor disobey, for I have no right to those funds yet. And when I do, our bargain will be fulfilled, and you will have no control over me.”
Her expression darkens, her tone barbed with iron. “Your father should have taught you to be kind.”
“He did,” I whisper. He’s the only reason I bother being even remotely civil to my stepfamily at all. Father saw good in Mrs. Coleman, saw a broken family in need of his love and support. Even when I told him they treated me badly, he assured me if I responded with kindness, they’d never truly hurt me.
However, perpetual goodness in the face of cruelty is not in my nature. Not with my mother’s blood flowing through my veins. Not with her final request echoing through my heart.
Always be wild. Promise me.
