Chapter 24
The dressing room mirror splinters my reflection, each fragment revealing another version of the lie I’m meant to perform.
The dress they’ve chosen is blood red—because of course it is.
Everything leads back to blood now. Blood magic.
Blood rubies. The Blackwood name etched into my future like a scar that refuses to close.
My ruby throbs against my throat, wild and erratic, echoing the chaos in my chest. Luna’s words still hang in the air, sharp and final. I didn’t recognize her, maybe I never really knew her at all.
The walls of the dressing room seem to constrict, the air thickening with every breath.
I haven’t slept or eaten. Can’t stop replaying the way Luna’s eyes sparked when she spoke of sacrifice and progress like they were gospel.
My brilliant little sister, recast into something weaponized and ravenous.
The ring on my finger glints beneath the lights, a polished reminder of everything I’ve forfeited. The band presses into my skin as if it’s trying to brand me and mark me as Blackwood property.
“Miss Ellis?” An assistant appears in the doorway, clutching a glass. “Your water?”
I take a small sip and the words lash out before I can soften them, “I said room temperature.” Sweat prickles at the base of my neck. “This is freezing. Do you want my voice cracking while we are live?”
The girl recoils. “I’m sorry, I’ll—”
“Just go.” My temples throb, pressure building behind my eyes. The lights glare down, sterile and invasive. The room reeks of hairspray and synthetic perfume, each inhale coating my tongue in chemical sweetness. My skin itches beneath the silk, every nerve ending flaring and overexposed.
I begin pacing. Three steps forward, three steps back.
I’ve observed enough creatures pace this way.
Maybe this is penance. That’s how they felt like, all those years ago, locked in a cage for the sake of science while I stood by with a clipboard.
How many had I watched fracture like this?
How many had I helped contain in the name of advancement?
The mirror reflects a stranger. A curated version of myself.
Another specimen, tagged and catalogued: Aria Ellis.
Controlled. Compliant. Ready for public approval.
Someone who wouldn’t scream at her sister, or throw accusations at the most powerful families in Eclipsera.
Someone who knows how to play this game and smile while her cage grows smaller.
But I’ve never been good at playing games.
Not even when Father insisted it was necessary, when he made me document the breaking points of creatures far more innocent than I.
And now, witnessing Luna transform into their perfect puppet—speaking Alexander’s words with our father’s conviction—I’m not sure I want to learn.
Some cages aren’t built with bars. And some, once entered, don’t ever let you leave.
Kane fills the doorway, his appearance offset by something rare: concern. “You all right?”
I sink into the vanity chair, a sudden exhaustion settling in my limbs. “I just want it over with.” My hand drifts to the empty space beside me, fingertips brushing the cushion where Dom should be. Even now, when I need him most, Kian keeps us apart. Makes sure I remember who holds the leash.
“This came from the boss.” Kane offers an envelope.
For a moment, hope flares. A note from Dom. A message. Something. But the elegant handwriting isn’t his. And just like that, the weight returns.
Aria,
What a charming sight you were this morning, seething beneath all that silk. I do admire your commitment to restraint. It’s almost convincing. But let’s not forget, sweetheart, this isn’t just dress rehearsal anymore. The whole city’s watching now, and I expect you to behave accordingly.
Enclosed, you’ll find a little something, a family heirloom in a sense. Every Blackwood bride has worn those rubies at some point, usually on the day everything changed for them. Some called it tradition. Others, a curse. I imagine you’ll decide soon enough which suits you best.
Now, let’s go over your lines one last time.
You’ll speak about unity, legacy and love.
Say it like you believe it. Smile. Don’t twitch when they mention Dom.
And for the gods’ sake, don’t improvise.
We wouldn’t want to muddy the narrative: the most unattainable man in Eclipsera, tamed by the Ellis girl.
It’s all very romantic. Very marketable.
-K
P.S. Dom’s been such a good boy lately. Would be a shame to ruin that progress just because his little bride can’t keep her temper in check. Perform well today, sweetheart, or you’ll bleed for your missteps, and he’ll have the best seat in the house.
The blood-red earrings glint in their velvet cradle, unmistakably priceless. I crush the letter in my palm. This is what I’ve been reduced to, a puppet performing for entertainment.
“Five minutes, Miss Ellis!” someone calls through the door.
The studio hums with artificial energy as hover orbs zip overhead like mechanical insects, their lenses twitching to capture every angle.
The audience shifts in their seats, all of Eclipsera’s finest come to watch the show.
I recognize faces from Mom’s tea parties and from Father’s lectures.
People who sent condolence cards after their deaths and whispered about “such a tragic loss”, while calculating how to profit from their absence.
Madeline Shaw glides toward me with a smile bright enough to blind. “Aria Ellis! The woman of the hour.” She air-kisses both cheeks. “You look exquisite.”
I force my lips to curve. “Thank you for having me.”
“Of course, darling! And what timing, with your sister’s scientific marvel this morning, the Ellis name is positively everywhere today.”
I saw Luna’s interview while they pinned my hair, my jaw locked as she sold the vision with frightening elegance. They kept me from her, naturally. Alexander’s orders, no doubt. Not even Kane’s hovering presence could get me within reach.
Cornering her after? That was luck. Or maybe misfortune.
“Places, everyone!”
The lights burn against my skin as I settle into the interview chair.
“We are live in three, two . . .”
Madeline beams at the nearest orb. “Welcome back, Eclipsera! Today, we’re joined by none other than Aria Ellis, daughter of the late, great Cedric and Elyra Ellis.”
“Thank you, Madeline.”
“And now, the question everyone wants answered,” she leans in, practically trembling with anticipation. “Is it true? Has Dominic Blackwood finally been caught?”
The audience holds its breath. I smooth my features into the bashful smile they choreographed for me.
“Yes, Dom and I are engaged.”
A ripple of disbelief and delight surges through the studio and Madeline’s eyes widen with glee. I spot a cluster of socialites clutching their bloodstones, no doubt mourning the loss of Eclipsera’s most infamous bachelor.
“Oh, how marvelous!” Madeline claps. “You must tell us everything. How did it begin? Everyone remembers the tension at the Academy, but surely there’s more to the story.”
I laugh softly, the sound hollow in my ears.
“Actually, that first encounter set the tone for everything.” I deliver the fantasy they expect.
A sanitized fairytale, not the truth of us—of threats and bruised knuckles, of stolen moments and breathless bargains.
“I was running late to class, and there he was, blocking the courtyard entrance like he owned it.”
Madeline grins, throwing the audience a wink. “Which, knowing Dominic, he probably thought he did.”
“Exactly.” I play along, letting them devour every word. “He took one look at me and decided to be absolutely unbearable. Called me a charity case, if I recall.”
Laughter rolls across the studio. Of course, they find Dom’s cruelty charming in hindsight. Retroactive villainy makes for an excellent romance.
“And what did you do?” Madeline prompts, violet eyes gleaming.
“I threatened to set him on fire.”
More laughter. They adore this version of us, the irreverent Ellis girl and the Blackwood heir she tamed with fire and attitude. If only they knew the truth. The blood, the fights, the nights we’d tear each other apart just to feel something real.
“And that was it? Love at first threat?”
“Oh no.” I bare my teeth in a grin too sharp to be sweet. “I think he spent the next few months trying to make my life impossible. It turned into a game of who could infuriate the other more.”
“But something changed,” Madeline says, tone gentling.
I think of Dom’s hands around my throat in The Den, of how he holds me through nightmares now, as if I’m precious, not broken.
“We grew up,” I say instead. “Realized all that friction was masking something deeper.”
The audience exhales in collective bliss. They love the lie, not the truth—two fractured people clinging to each other like lifelines in a city that feeds on weakness.
“And now here you are,” Madeline says brightly. “Though I must say, some were surprised by the pairing.”
Translation: How did a disgraced researcher’s daughter end up wearing Eclipsera’s most coveted ring?
“You mean because of The Den?” I ask sweetly, noticing her smile falter for a beat. “Come now, Madeline. Everyone knows Dom’s reputation. The parties. The brawls. The endless stream of whispered conquests.” I lean forward. “Shall we talk about what really happens in those private rooms?”
The audience shifts uncomfortably. This isn’t the sanitized version they want, but I can see the hunger in their eyes. They’re desperate for a glimpse behind the curtain, even as they pretend to be above such scandal.
“Well, I—”
“The truth is simpler than the rumors,” I cut in. “Dom and I understand each other. We know what it’s like to live under a microscope. To be reduced to our surnames, and have your entire identity rewritten before you ever open your mouth.”