“The shadows do not gather for nothing.”
“Maybe they’re nosy. I know several goblins like that.”
The Priestess rose slowly from her chair in a graceful movement that rippled with restrained violence.
“They see something in you, unlike your mother.”
“Is that why you locked her away?”
The Priestess took a step closer. “Your mother lacked vision.”
“My mother survived you.”
“She ran.”
“She lived,” I clarified, and her mouth tightened.
“She hid from everything she was meant to become,” the Priestess said.
“No.” I stood before I could think better of it. “She hid me from everything you wanted me to become.”
The room pulsed as the windowpanes trembled in their frames. The shadows around my chair stretched higher, reaching almost to my knees. My birthmark heated until I had to press a hand to my side to keep from flinching.
“You are more like me than either of us expected,” she said softly.
I let out a breath that almost became a laugh. “That might be the worst thing anyone has ever said to me, and I’ve been divorced, cursed, chased, and threatened.”
The Priestess blinked.
“You surround yourself with fools,” she said.
“I surround myself with people who would never confuse loyalty with ownership.”
Her eyes hardened again.
“You think they won’t disappoint you?” she asked. “You think your wolf won’t choose instinct over devotion if pushed far enough? Do you believe the Fae won’t retreat into old bargains when fear returns? Or that the witches of Stonewick won’t hesitate if your choices threaten their comfort?”
“There was nothing comfortable about what happened when they flew in on broomsticks and marched below.”
I thought back to Keegan with his brooding silence and terrifying loyalty. Stella with tea and threats in equal measure. Nova with truths nobody wanted, but everyone needed. Bella with mischief and sharp instincts. Ardetia with hesitation that made her courage matter more, not less. Twobble with crumbs in his pockets and bravery he’d deny until his last breath.
“I think they’ll continue to choose,” I said. “And that’s the difference between us.”
The Priestess’ jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond.
“You want obedience because choice scares you.” The words left my mouth before caution could tackle them to the floor.
The Priestess’ face had gone terrifyingly still.
“You presume too much,” she whispered.
“I usually do.” My voice came out softer now, but I didn’t look away. “But I’m right.”
The shadows rose behind her like a storm taking shape, and still, she didn’t send them at me. She didn’t call guards and didn’t summon chains.
She wasn’t doing to me what she did to my mom.
She couldn’t, or was it merely that she wouldn’t?
