As the music filled the room, the voices in my head stopped, their cries dimming against the sound. Relief surged through me, sharp and overwhelming. I closed my eyes, breathing in time with the melody.
And then I began to hum to its beautiful sound. The tune fell from my lips, loud and discordant at first, before it settled into harmony with the music. My voice rose, drowning out the whispers, the brothers, everything, completely. My head throbbed, the burning mark above my temple pulsing with a fiery heat, a power, like I was in control.
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. The music was my anchor, my shield.
“Tilly!” Cillian’s voice was louder now, urgent. “What are you doing?”
“She’s gone mad. The inevitable has happened early,” Torin muttered, a nervous edge to his sarcastic-tinted words.
But I didn’t answer. My humming grew louder, more insistent, as I paced the room with my eyes closed. The music swirled around me, its melody merging with my voice, creating a barrier that nothing could penetrate.
“Damn it, Tilly, stop!” Fionn’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. He stepped away from the wall, closer, his expression a mix of anger and something else, was it concern? I couldn’t tell nor care.
“Leave her,” Seraphina said softly, her voice cutting through the brothers’ protests. Her gaze was fixed on me, her expression unreadable.
“She’s not breaking. She’s fighting. Lets’s see what her madness is truly capable of.”
“What?” Fionn turned to Seraphina, his brows knitting together.
“She’s controlling it,” Seraphina said, stepping closer towards my space.
“The voices,” I whispered, almost to myself, the words trembling on my lips.
“They never stop. Not ever. That is, it seems, until now.”
My entire focus was on the haunting melody weaving through the room like a spell. The brothers watched me, their gazes heavy with unspoken thoughts. I clung to it like a lifeline, using it to push the voices back. For the first time, I felt a flicker of control and a spark of power. The madness was mine to harness and mine alone. No curse or whispering voices could take that from me.
Fionn froze, his expression shifting as if my words struck something deep within him. His piercing blue eyes, usually so cold and guarded, softened for a fleeting second. He took another step toward me, but this time his movements were slower, almost hesitant.
“What did you say?” he asked, his voice quieter now, was it concern or recognition, who knows?
Seraphina's eyes flicked to Fionn, something passing between them. Then she said.
“Fionn, show her. You must show her how to control it.”
I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. The mark on my temple burned like fire, pulsing with the rhythm of the music. “You said it before, didn’t you?” I whispered, my voice quavering but defiant. “You hear them too, don’t you? The voices. Just like me. You all hear them?”
Fionn’s jaw tightened, his body going rigid. His hands clenched at his sides, the muscles in his neck taut. For a moment, he didn’t answer, his gaze locked on mine, I could feel him searching and questioning what I asked.
“You do,” I said, louder this time, stepping toward him. “You told me earlier, you hear them.”
His breath hitched, almost subtly, but I caught it. “Tilly, you don’t understand what you’re dealing with. You don’t know what is inside, inside us all.”
“Don’t I?” I shot back. “I hear them every second of every day. The whispering and screaming they are always clawing at my mind. Just like you.” I gestured toward him, my voice rising. “You know exactly what it feels like, Fionn. So don’t stand there and act like I’m losing it. The music is the only thing helping me block them out.”
His eyes darkened, I could see the rage behind them. “Tilly,” he began, his voice low, lacking the bite it usually carried. Instead, it wavered, as though he were holding back a secret he didn’t dare share.
“You hear them,” I repeated, softer now, my gaze steady. “What do they say to you?”
His voice broke through the tension. “You say the music is drowning them out?” He stepped closer to me,
“Dance with me,” his hand outstretched, not a demand, but an invitation.
“Now the storm cloud Fionn has decided to play,” Torin let out an amused chuckle, as he walked towards Seraphina.
“Be quiet boy!” Seraphina snapped at Torin
I reached out and took Fionn’s hand. His touch was strong, yet his gaze burned with a deeper curiosity. It was grounding me even as the music carried me away.
