Half OCK, half PTO. Which makes me—what? Half monster?
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” She winks before standing up. “Walk me back to my dorm?”
I nod, falling in step beside her on the gravel path. The fountain fades behind us as the maze walls rise high, ivy and roses twisting around the trellises. For a while, we don’t speak. I almost prefer it—the rhythm of our footsteps, the brush of her sleeve near mine. But then Mara slows, stepping into a small alcove I know all too well.
My stomach knots.
She crouches, brushing ivy away from a marble plaque that’s barricaded by thorned roses. Her lips move as she reads, the fading light catching on the engraved letters
Evangeline Thorn. Beloved daughter. Bright soul. Lost too soon.
The sound of her name vibrates through me. Mara’s head snapsup, her eyes wide as they lock onto mine. “Thorn…” she breathes. “Was she… your sister?”
My throat is sand, but I manage a stiff nod.
Her gaze softens instantly. “Jasper… I’m so sorry.” She kneels closer to the plaque, her fingertips brushing lightly across the carved letters.
I lunge forward and grab her wrist. “Don’t,” I sign with my free hand.
Her eyes widen, startled. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammers. She tries to pull back, but my grip holds her there. Her skin is warm under my palm. My chest heaves, breath tearing in and out of my lungs in ragged pants.
Mara… My lips shape the word, though no sound comes. My throat feels scorched, strangled by years of silence.
She winces softly, not from fear but because my hold is too rough. That tiny movement jolts me back. I force myself to loosen my grip, but I don’t let go.
Instead, I drag her hand closer, as if I can keep her from ever reaching that plaque again. Her pulse thrums fast against my fingers, her eyes locked on mine.
“Jasper,” she whispers, her voice shaky but steady enough to hold me there. “I didn’t mean to?—”
She shifts, and the edge of a thorned rose catches her other hand. She flinches, crimson welling on the pad of her finger. Her lips part in surprise as I lower my mouth to her injured finger. I press my lips around the cut, tongue brushing the sting away as I suck the blood from her skin.
Her body stills, her eyes wide, watching me like she doesn’t know whether to pull back or melt into the moment.
I should let go. I should apologize. But instead, I linger, lips brushing the pad of her finger as I release it slowly, almost reverently. My thumb strokes the back of her hand, soothing where I gripped too tightly.
Her breath shudders out. “Jasper…”
But I can’t hear her. The trickle of a fountain morphs intorushing water. Moonlight flashes across black waves. My sister’s scream rips through my skull, followed by the choking silence after. Strong hands dragging me back. Her body—blue, limp—sprawled on the rocky river bed.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop. My chest heaves, every muscle trembling as if I’m drowning all over again.
A touch at my arm snaps me back. Mara—her fingers light on my sleeve, grounding me. “Look at me,” she pleads, “Please.”
I force my eyes open.
She drowned.I couldn’t save her.No one could.
Her breath catches, and her hand squeezes my arm gently, like she can anchor me to the present.
“I have to go.”
“Wait!” Mara calls after me, voice breaking.
But I’m already gone, tearing myself from the alcove like a coward as the hedges swallow me whole.
EIGHTEEN
MARA
