“Careful, Tilly,” he said lazily. “If you stare any harder, my brothers might start to think I’m your favourite.” he uttered, his voice dripping with mockery.
I swallowed back a sharp laugh, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my composure
Torin wasn’t someone you wanted to humour, not unless you wanted to feed the fire of his ego. Instead, I tore my gaze away from him.
My eyes landed on Fionn, standing in the corner like he didn’t want to be here. His arms were crossed, his jaw clenched, and his blue eyes were fixed on the floor. He didn’t acknowledge me,his stillness a stark contrast to Torin’s arrogant theatrics. He was the quiet calculating force in the room that both intrigued and unsettled me.
Cillian sat casually in the velvet armchair, his shirt buttons undone resembling a king comfortably settled in his court. His gaze followed me with an intensity that felt like sunlight piercing through a magnifying glass. A soft, disarming smile curled on his lips, the kind designed to make you forget the cracks beneath the surface.
My stomach tightened at the memory of the last time I had seen him, he was perched beside me on my bed, his voice low and gentle, his body close to mine. I had tried to pretend it hadn’t affected me, but the memory struck me now with humiliating clarity, the way I had almost leaned into him, the way I wanted him to lean into me and make me feel safe. I hated that part of me that longed to feel that way again.
Cillian leaned forward slightly in his chair.
“Are you all right, Tilly?” he asked, his tone warm and concerned but was it a calculated kindness that was fooling me.
Torin huffed a quiet laugh from across the room.
“How touching.” He said. I ignored his words. My attention was on Cillian. How could he appear so genuine in the chaos of this house, under the curse that bound us all? Was it a role he played as easily as breathing.
Where had he been over the past few days? Why had he ignored me and why did it matter to me at all? Why did I care how he sounded or whether he meant it? I shouldn’t. Not when I didn’t know which version of him I was looking at. The gentle one from my bedside or the one related to this dark bloodline?
It had been days since I’d last seen him, days of silence, of absence, of wondering whether he stayed away because of how close we got, or because he wanted me to feel the distance after the rejection.
And Gods, it worked. His absence caused curiosity within me that I hated acknowledging. But maybe that was something I could use. Maybe I needed him to feel the absence from me too.
“I’m fine, Cillian,” I replied, injecting a strength into my voice. “Thanks for asking.”
I needed him on my side. I needed him to want me alive. And if that meant playing the part he expected, soft, grateful, reachable, then so be it. Survival wasn’t about honesty anymore. It was about choosing wisely.
My paranoia whispered in my ear:
The voice rose from the depth of my mind. “He’s pretending. They’re all pretending. You’re the prize in their sick game, and they’ll do whatever it takes to win.”
His green eyes, once warm, now burned with an intensity that made my stomach tighten. He watched me as though I were prey he needed to guard fiercely.
“Sit down, here next to me, Tilly,” he said, his tone low and commanding. “You’re exhausting yourself.”
Across the room, Fionn leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw tight.
“She doesn’t need you hovering over her like a damned shadow, Cillian. Let her breathe.”
"Oh, and you’d know what she needs?" Cillian shot back, his voice was calm and cutting. "You’re too busy sulking in a corner to notice anyone else."
“They aren’t arguing because they like you. They don’t like you. They only wish to use you.”
“Enough!” my voice rose, startling them both. Did I just shout that out loud. My heart raced, but I forced myself to stand tall, meeting their stares with as much bravo as I could muster. Their attention snapped to me, and for a moment, I saw genuine surprise.
Torin’s grin faded slightly.
Cillian leaned back in his chair.
Fionn’s expression, he didn’t smile or move. But his attention locked onto me fully for the first time since I entered the room.
Seraphina stepped forward, her commanding presence pulling the room’s attention. She was the only one who wasn’t watching with curiosity or calculation. Instead, she was studying me, picking me apart with her faultless gaze.
“We brought you here today for a reason,” she said, her tone smooth, yet commanding. “You need to understand what’s happening to you. You need to meet the Elorium.”
“They’re tricking you. Don’t do it. Don’t fall into their trap. They wish to break you.”
