He takes a step toward me and asks again, more quietly this time, “How do you know that the woman in the prison with you was your biological mother?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Anarchy rises to her feet and turns on Lucian so fast that she nearly tips her chair over. “How could you ask Darkness such a thing? How could you stab at the wound in her heart?”
Lucian swallows visibly but stands his ground. “It isn’t my intention to be cruel. But something doesn’t add up here.”
He dares to take his eyes off her and focus on me. “Veda, think about it. Dad is sure that Galeia’s alive, even though it would be better for him if she were dead. He said she’s thousands of years old. He said she walked with gods. Well, Vanguard and his sister, Halle, must be the gods she walked with. Why else would Vanguard describe Galeia as ‘like a sister’?”
I’m swimming in the questions he’s directing at me—questions I can hardly hear because the pain they’re inducing is unbearable.
I press my hand to my chest and he falls silent.
I’m aware that the keeper was sitting stiffly in his seat but now he leans back, his forehead quietly creased.
The male panthers were hissing at Lucian, but now they’ve fallen quiet. On either side of me, Rumble and Strife are both studying me, their whiskers twitching.
Anarchy turns carefully back to me, a wary light in her eyes. “Galeia was as old as me?” Her gaze flickers to Diavolo. “As old as the keeper?”
I don’t know how to answer that. I would have said my father was lying if Lucian hadn’t heard it from other sources.
My brother takes a step toward me, a brave move, since I’m in danger of lashing out right now.
“Whatifthe woman in the cell wasn’t your biological mother?” he asks again.
I can barely speak. “Not possible.”
“Nothing’s impossible. Not when it comes to dark magic.” Lucian shakes his head stubbornly. “How could someone like Galeia die so easily?”
“Easily?” I push past Rumble’s and Strife’s furry bodies and lurch to my feet, anger burning within me. “You think starvation is easy? You think struggling to breathe is easy?”
“No.” Lucian shakes his head, a look of regret washing across his face. “That’s not what I meant.”
It’s only when Anarchy’s hand closes around my arm that I realize I’ve made it all the way across the rug, prowling toward my brother like the predator I was born to be.
I’m acutely aware that the keeper has risen to his feet behind me and there’s now a tinge of power in the room, a white haze, as if he might whisk me out of here before I hurt Lucian.
Anarchy’s hand is gentle, and her voice is soft. “Darkness, I know you don’t want to consider this… but is it possible that the woman in the veil prison wasn’t your biological mother like you believed?”
I immediately shake my head. “She had the same claws as me.”
Anarchy glances at the keeper. “Could the claws have been an illusion?”
He rumbles a quiet reply. “Veda was in prison for twenty-three years. An illusion, or a similar kind of glamour, couldn’t have been sustained that long.”
I close my eyes with relief, but then Anarchy asks, “What about a curse, like the one that was placed on me and my brothers?”
My eyes fly open. The curse that was placed on Anarchy lasted a thousand years.
Diavolo is slow to respond. “It’s possible.”
“No!” I shake free of Anarchy’s hold. My breath is suddenly coming fast. I’ve never wanted so badly to believe that my mother is dead because the alternative…
“If Galeia died, you would have collected her magic,” I say to him. “That was your job as the keeper of dark magic. So… did you?”
He is once more like stone as I prowl toward him.
I search his eyes, needing answers, even though I’m afraid of them. “Diavolo, you have the power to clear this up, once and for all. Did you tether Galeia’s magic?”
