“She’s killing you.”
“She loves me.”
“She isusingyou—”
Charlotte spins around and strikes me across the face. The crack echoes in our small room.
“You’re jealous,” she hisses. “You possess magic, and still you would deny me this. But I won’t let you.” She pushes past me toward the door. “I would sooner die than give her up.”
I cup my stinging cheek and watch her go, helpless to stop her.
I’m Charlotte, sitting at the supper table while my parents loom over me. The dining room is suffocating. Heavy velvet curtains block out the evening light, and the air is thick with the smell of roasted meat I cannot bring myself to eat.
“We have spoken to the doctor,” Mother says, her voice tight with fear. “He warned us that if you don’t eat properly—”
“I amfine.”
Father slams his hand on the table, making the dishes rattle. “You are not fine! You’re skin and bones. You won’t tell us where you go at night. You look half-dead—”
“My life is not your concern!” I shove back from the table, and the effort makes me dizzy. I grip the edge to stay upright.
Tears spill down Mother’s cheeks. “Please, Charlotte. Tell us what’s wrong. We can help you.”
“You cannot help me. You have never helped me.” My voice breaks. “You have only kept me locked up like a doll in a box, too precious to touch, too delicate to live. I’m done being your perfect, protected daughter. I’m done being powerless.”
I storm out, ignoring their pleas.
That night, I spread my legs beneath Julia, taking her hand firmly and guiding her fingers where I want them. This ismychoice, my body, my pleasure.Sheis who I want, not some husband chosen by Father who will force me to be obedient and dutiful.
Julia obeys, her eyes darkening with hunger. I see in her eyes that she needs me as much as I need her.
“Inside me,” I whisper.
As she slides her fingers into me, my breath hitches, and I rock my hips against her hand.
“Yes. Just like that.” I arch into her touch, fisting my hands in her dark hair, pulling her closer and claiming her lips.
She makes a small sound of pleasure, kissing me harder.
The room spins as her body presses against mine, her skin hot through the thin fabric of our chemises. Her breath caresses my lips as she whispers the incantation.
She feeds from me for longer than ever. The temperature in the cottage drops, but even as I shiver on her bed, sweat beads along my hairline.
This is the only time I have had control over my life. I am choosing this pleasure, this purpose, and I will not let anyone take it from me.
I’m Julia, watching Charlotte crawl into my bed. She’s so thin I can see every rib and vertebra. The lamplight casts shadows in the hollows of her collarbones, and her skin is pale as milk. Her beautiful blonde hair comes out in clumps on my pillow.
I ought to send her away and tell her not to come back until she’s recovered. “You should not be here tonight. You need to—”
But she’s already kissing me, pressing against me, and my hunger rises to meet her desperation.
“I needyou.” Her skeletal fingers fumble with the buttons on my blouse. “Please, Julia. I need to feel it again. I cannot bear another night without it.”
“Charlotte…”
“Do you not want me anymore?” Her eyes fill with tears. “Am I too unsightly now?”
“No.” I cup her hollow cheek. “You’re still beautiful.”
