Lucy’s chest tightened the sheer thought of being responsible for others was weighing heavy on her.
“And when they get here?” she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
“We will welcome them with open arms” Byron said with a calm voice.
Lucy nodded slowly, her mind already racing ahead. “So, when they arrive… will I get their powers too?”
Byron tilted his head, thoughtful. “I’m not sure how that works exactly. Maybe. Maybe not. But what I do know is it’s time we stopped guessing if you're an ability thief and start working on yours.”
“Mine?” Lucy asked, almost laughing. “Wait, are you saying I have abilities that are just…my own?”
Byron’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Of course you do. You’ve only copied me so far. But you’re Nephilim, Lucy. You’re bound to have powers that belong to you alone.”
Her stomach knotted, equal parts fear and anticipation.
Byron went on, his tone lighter now. “We can practice everything all at once. Barnaby can drown you in research, and Corey, Damian, and I—well, we’ll make excellent punching bags.”
Barnaby perked up. “I agree, my job sounds much safer than being launched across the room by Super-Lucy.”
Lucy gave a wry smile, shaking her head. “Then I guess it’s settled. We should put the staff on paid leave; extend the holiday my aunt and cousins are on and bring the rest of our family in. We’re going to need every bit of help and support we can get.”
Chapter 3
By the end of the day, all the staff had been sent away on a fully paid break, Lucy insisted. She didn’t need prying eyes, and she refused to put anyone else in unnecessary danger. Besides, Mary was going to arrive soon, and she would have the house and everyone in order.
Mother number three, Lucy thought with a faint smile. In thirteen years, she had gone from having one mother to three, each one of them had shaped her in ways she hadn’t expected. She giggled to herself quietly as she made her way to the back room.
Byron was waiting. The last time she’d seen this room, it had been transformed into a makeshift medical ward after he’d been shot. Now, it was padded wall-to-wall.
Lucy arched a brow. “Am I being sectioned?” she teased.
Byron chuckled, shaking his head. “No. Sit with me. We’re starting your training.”
She tilted her head. “Training in what exactly?”
“When I was younger,” he explained, lowering himself to the floor, “the way I learned to control my powers—and how I unlocked some of them—was through meditation. It didn’t happen quickly, but it worked.”
Lucy dropped cross-legged onto the mat with a sigh. “Time is something I don’t have, Byron.”
“Maybe not,” he said calmly, “but we all need to start somewhere.”
So, she tried. She allowed herself to sink deeper, slipping past the noise in her head, into silence.
And then—darkness hit, she was standing in it, surrounded by shadows. Far ahead, a golden orb pulsed. She walked toward it, eager, but each time she reached for it, it darted away retreating further into the void. She chased it repeatedly until frustration clawed at her chest.
Her breathing quickened. Muscles twitched. She screamed in exasperation and snapped out of the trance.
Byron was already kneeling in front of her, his hands steadying her shoulders. “Lucy? What happened?” His voice was calm, but his eyes showed concern.
She blinked rapidly, still trying to shake the strange sensation “I did what you said. I meditated. I wasn’t just sitting here with my eyes shut. I was in this dark place. And there was this golden orb. Every time I got close, it ran away. It made me feel… I don’t know. Dirty. Like I wasn’t meant to touch it.”
Byron leaned back slightly, intrigued. “I’m telling you, Byron, it kept on bouncing around playing a dumb game of cat and fucking mouse.”
He gave a crooked grin, trying to break the heaviness. “I can think of plenty of other ways to make you feel dirty.”
Her lips curved, the tension easing. She edged closer, her voice was laced with mischief. “Oh, yes. You did promise to bend me over, didn’t you?”
Byron’s smirk deepened as he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her in. “And I never break a promise” his breath grazed gently against her neck.
