Lastly, I owe you an apology. I am sure by now you have discovered the truth one way or another, and I am sorry that I did not tell you sooner. I am sorry that I suppressed your powers and kept this a secret from you. I understand if you feel let down or betrayed, and I do not blame you if you never want to speak with me again. I did what I thought was best for you at the time, with Agnes’s guidance. Though I must admit she did not know about the Witchbane. That was my doing, and she was beyond cross with me when she found out. I regret it with my entire being, all of it. I thought I could get away with maintaining that you were mine and I was yours, and that was all we needed to be.
I now see it was selfish of me to hide you away as though I could cheat Fate. You were always destined to be more, and the world needs that now more than ever. Be the light in the darkness ahead.
Love forever,
Connall Callahan
By the end of it, the words blurred and Hazel’s tears joined the ones Connall had left. She wanted nothing more than to hug him, to tell him there was nothing in this world that could turn her against him. And yes, she was deeply hurt that so many around her knew she had magic-tainted blood, knew that she wasn’t his by blood and said nothing. But that did not, could not, change the fact that he was everything a father should be. No blood relation could change that.
She reread the part about Jonas, and her heart sank. She twirled the locket in her hands, knowing what he said was true. Sure, Jonas was a pain in the ass at times and would fight at the slightest provocation. But picking fights and outright attacking people were two different things. What Connall described wasn’t normal.
He was probably possessed,she thought. Possessed? Connall had suggested as much. With everything going on around her, it was fitting. She made a note to look into creatures with the ability to possess someone and control their actions.
Hazel strode over to the writing desk and set the letter down. It was late, and the day had been physically and emotionally exhausting. She didn’t even want to think about what the coming evening might bring. She just knew she needed to get out of this god’s damned castle before anyone else could dig their claws into her.
She decided to prepare her own bath, not wanting to bother Phaedra after her earlier outburst.Let the angel rest.She could handle this on her own. Besides, she didn’t want to talk to anyone. Didn’t want anyone else to look upon her with pity in their eyes. She just wanted to sink into scalding hot water and be carried away by the lush, scented soap they kept stocked for her.
As she sank into the bath, Hazel hissed, the hot water stinging her chafed thighs. All the recent horseback riding had taken its toll on her skin. But once she was submerged, she cleared her mind of the thoughts that had plagued her. Tried to, anyway.
Sitting in the quiet bathing room without anyone to attend to her proved to be a lonely experience. Her thoughts wandered over the previous day’s events, specifically the part where Slaide’s mouth had brushed her skin and the conflicting emotions he’d invoked. Her body heated in response to the memory, to the thought of his lips on her neck, the brush of his fangs that sent a shiver up her spine. She sank deeper into the water, wanting to dissolve in the warmth.
But she caught herself mid-thought, just as her hands had begun to roam her body beneath the water’s surface.What am I doing?Slaide was a dangerous, traitorous monster that she did not need to further entangle herself with, not even in her fantasies.
She spent the rest of her bath scrubbing every inch of her body furiously, as though she could remove the memory of him on her skin. By the time she was finished, the water had grown cold and her skin was raw and angry. She wrapped herself in a linen towel that had no right to be as soft as it was and padded barefoot across the room to fetch a nightdress from her armoire.
Then she grabbed the letter off the writing desk and carried it to bed with her. She climbed up into the over-sized, ultra-plush mattress and snuggled into the down-filled duvet. She read the letter repeatedly, her father’s words bringing her comfort until sleep finally came to claim her.
Hazel wasstartled awake by a rapping knock on her door, light yet firm.
“Hazel?” called the voice. She slowly recognized it was Phaedra. “May I come in?”
“Sure, Phaedra, come in,” she called back.
The door opened cautiously, and Phaedra peeked her head in.
“You can come all the way in,” Hazel said. “I won’t bite.”
Phaedra entered the room looking as though she’d been scolded. She carried a tray with a steaming teapot and small cakes. She didn’t meet Hazel’s eyes.
“Mistress Hazel,” she said quietly while pouring tea, “I’ve come to help you get ready and escort you to the next trial.”
Hazel’s demeanor shifted, as she comprehended why the angel was so gloomy. “Then you’re wasting your time. It’s not your fault, Phaedra, but I’m not going.”
“But Mistress?—”
“Please, Phaedra. Don’t. I’ve come to terms with the fate that awaits me, and it’s the only real choice I’ve had since I’ve been here. Let me have a say in just this one thing, please,” Hazel insisted.
The angel nodded and walked to the window. “I understand as much as anyone what it is like to have no say in life. And I’m sorry you’ve had to experience it.”
As Hazel watched her, she noticed the clipped wing tips again. And then she noticed the marred flesh across her back.Fresh, angry red wounds layered atop old ones, scarred pink. Her alabaster skin was a portrait of suffering.
“Phaedra. Your back,” Hazel managed.
Phaedra shrunk as though struck, turning her back away. “Oh, it’s nothing, Mistress. Please don’t worry about me.”
“No. No, I most certainly will worry about you.” She hopped out of bed, crossing the room to where Phaedra now stood, nearly trembling. The little angel wrapped her arms around her body defensively.
When Hazel reached her, she wrapped her arms around Phaedra in a tight embrace, careful not to put too much pressure on her wounds.
