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“We’re going to win the vote. I know for a fact Patrick doesn’t have as many supporters as I do. Including the ones who are loyal to my family but don’t give a shit about me. We’re going to win.”
I smile to ease his burden. My hand lifts to caress his cheek. He’s let the stubble grow in again.
“I know, Edwin. Are you worried I won’t be able to handle it?”
His throat bobs as he swallows. He looks past me, out over the town, like the answer might be written in its quiet streets.
At first, winning never mattered to me. I agreed to do this for Asher. For answers and justice. I thought I could endure anything if it meant I’d find the person who set my life on fire.
Now I want to win.
To prove to myself that I’m not what my parents made me into. That I’m not a fragile doll dressed up for someone else’s use. I want to look back at the girl who waited in her bedroom and tell her she was wrong about herself. That she wasn’t weak just because she was trapped. That she had always been capable of surviving.
If my parents could see me now, they wouldn’t recognize me. The thought is both satisfying and sad. Because I still want them to. I still want to be seen, even after learning how little I mattered when compared to my brother, or to my father’s ambition, or to what my body could be used for.
I lean into Edwin, pressing the side of my face against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear.
“I’m not going to leave you,” I say softly. “I promise.”
His hand smooths up my back and holds me against him as if he’s afraid I could vanish.
“There’s something you need to know.” The movement of his hand pauses. “They’ve put out the story that you killed Asher and yourself.”
My spine goes rigid. I pull away to look at him.
“What? Why?”
He sighs and forces his eyes to meet mine. “The Council thought it would be the best way to get people to stop looking into it. They don’t want anyone digging around here.”
Everyone thinks I killed him? The thought rips through me. People who knew me and people who have never heard of me will think I’m a murderer. That I could kill the only person who ever loved me unconditionally.
Tears well in my eyes, but I brush them away. No wonder my mother didn’t mention me to Bridget. As far as the world is concerned, I no longer exist.
“I understand,” I say, the word ending on a breath.
“I’m sorry, Zaiya.” Edwin pulls me back against him, holding me safely in his arms. “It means nothing. You are more than a news story. Everyone who matters knows it.”
I nod against his chest because he’s right. But I can’t stop mourning the life I never got to live. It’s over. I was trapped in that house. This cage, at least, is one I've chosen.
And Edwin is inside it with me.
I’ve heard what the role of Seraph can do to a woman. The women in his family didn’t walk through this untouched. Too much history lives inside this manor for power to come without a price.
Being here makes me feel closer to Vanessa in a way I didn’t expect. As though I’m following footprints that haven’t fully faded. I want to know her and understand why the position broke her down until she couldn’t hold herself up anymore. I want to know whether it was the role itself or the loneliness it caused. Or if loving a man destined to rule hollowed her out from the inside.
And I want to know what Edwin will become if we win.
Because I can feel it, even now, standing above the sleeping town with his arms around me. It’s in the way the wind moves over the bluff and the hotel shines like a blade in the distance.
Something is coming.
Something that will demand more of me than I’ve ever given.
CHAPTER 41
ZAIYA
I’m in the kitchen waiting for night to come while the sun refuses to move. A mug of tea sits between my hands, a green moth spread across the ceramic, stuck in flight. I read the story on the back of the cereal box for what must be the fifth time.
