Strength training becomes part of my daily rhythm. I lift. I run. I fall. I try again. Slowly, I start to see the changes—my body stronger, my breathsteadier, my mind quieter. I don’t flinch as easily. I stand straighter. I look in the mirror and see someone who could fight back if she had to.
Piece by piece, bruise by bruise, I’m taking myself back.
I’m building myself. Something I wasn’t allowed to do before. I’m learning who I am, who I want to be.
I don’t want to be the quiet girl who flinches at every noise.
I want to live up to my Grandma Grace and the Ashthorne legacy.
I won’t be a doormat anymore. With this determination, my training session with Savvy this morning has me feeling better than ever.
We’re taking a break from my training when the question bubbles out of me. “Did you know my mom?”
Savvy looks at me with sad eyes; it’s not pity I don’t think. “I did.”
“What was she like?” I’m suddenly starving for the pieces Savvy may have. “I don’t have many memories of her… before.”
Savvy sits, patting the mat in front of her. I join her and cross my legs.
“I think you should ask your dad to tell you more about her. I liked her, don’t get me wrong. We were even friends, but I don’t think I’ll have the insight you’re looking for on her.”
I nod.
“She was always going on about how she couldn’t believe someone like Lucian would love her. They met in college. Your mom had Lucian head over heels for her with her fiery personality.”
“Your dad, naturally, always wanted to impress her. Max dared him to give her a big romantic speech. But of course, he went above and beyond that. He decided to write her a poem.”
“A poem?” I grin.
“A long poem. Complete with Shakespearean cadence and dramatic pauses. It was a whole thing.” Savvy giggles, and I join her.
“He decided to recite this poem to her in the middle of the lawn. It was cheesy and hilarious but she loved it. And that’s really all that mattered.” Savvy reached over squeezing my hand.
“Thank you.” I smile back.
I’m curledup on the chaise in the library, trying to finish a book I’ve restarted four times, when a soft knock sounds.
Lucian leans in, his expression careful. “Gracie. Can I speak with you for a minute? In the study.”
The way he says it makes my stomach drop.
I nod, set the book aside, and follow him down the hall. The study is warm and dimly lit, all polished wood and deep leather. There’s a small fire burning low in the hearth, even though it’s summer.
Lucian closes the door behind us.
I sit in the chair across from his desk, suddenly aware of how small I feel in this room.
He lowers himself into the seat opposite me. “I wanted to talk to you about Blackmoore Academy.”
Anxiety creeps in my chest. “Did they reject me?”
“No, they didn’t.” He chuckles.
My brows scrunch in confusion.Then what about it?
“There’s really no way to say this gently. I’m the current head of the Guild.”
“What’s the Guild?”
