Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
A t home, my mother takes one look at me and bursts into tears.
“My sweet girl.” She faces me in the middle of the parlor, her lace-gloved hands flitting over my skin as if testing its integrity. “Oh, my girl, no, no, no, what did he do to you?”
I answer without thinking. “Alverton, you mean?”
“No, that Null boy. He...touched you, didn’t he? Oh, goddess. He forced you? Don’t tell me he forced you. What is this world coming to, when Nulls are allowed to go around assaulting Charms for their?—”
“Mom.”
She blinks. Tears course down her cheeks.
“What’re you even talking about? You know Weston. You’ve known him for ten years. Of course he didn’t hurt me.”
Her eyes fall to my collarbones, then skew away just as quickly, like she can’t bear to look. She presses a hand over her mouth and sobs.
My father stands in the corner, his arms crossed, his expression hard. “He might not have hurt you, but he took from you, nonetheless. He took from all of us. This whole family.”
A boulder lands in my throat, a burning ball of outrage. I have to squeeze my next words past it. “That’s ridiculous. Weston saved me. He came and got me when the duke locked me up. When Alverton starved me. And afterward, he only unMarked me because I begged him to. He didn’t force anything.”
Brendan hunches in an armchair, studying his clasped fists, but at my words, he raises his head. He hasn’t cleaned himself up. Dried blood crusts his chin and shirtfront. “What do you mean? About Alverton? I thought Weston was just saying that.”
“No. He was telling the truth.”
“The duke...hurt you?”
I clench my teeth. “He did more than that. He nearly killed me. He locked me in a room without any food or water for almost three days. By the time Weston got to me, I couldn’t stand. I could barely even talk.”
Horror dawns in Brendan’s eyes. My mother wails, but we both ignore her.
“I don’t understand.” My father frowns. “Why would Alverton offer such an enormous sum for you, then try to kill you?”
A shudder eddies through me. “Because. He thought he could force me to be the meek little wife he wanted. He thought he could break me.”
And he was absolutely right , I don’t add.
“But...” Brendan searches for words. “How could he have managed that? What about Fortuna? Your Mark? ”
“It didn’t matter. The duke had a man who was just as lucky as I was. Luckier, even. Another Charm. And the Charm wanted me locked up, so it happened.”
My brother swallows. He looks like he’s choking on his own tongue. “I can’t... You’re saying I promised you to a man who tortured you? I did that?”
I can see it. He wants me to say no. To take it all back. His eyes beg me to. But I don’t have that much grace. “Yes. You did.”
He plunges both hands through his hair, leaving it an unprecedented mess, then shoots out of the chair and strides from the room without another word.
“Maybe we could tattoo it back on,” my mother says.
My head snaps around. “What?”
“Your Mark. We could tattoo it back on. No one would know the difference.”
Some slimy, dark thing drops into my guts. “Are you kidding me? Did you hear a word I just said? About Alverton?”
But she’s crying again, her makeup running in smears down her cheeks, her response garbled by hiccups. “There’s a tattoo artist in Hay?—”
“Mom!” I stamp my foot. “No. Just stop. You’re being horrible. I’m not getting a tattoo, and this is why I hated being a Charm. It was exactly this, right here.”
Her sobs cut off abruptly, replaced by a shocked stare. If she had pearls, she’d probably be clutching them, but as it stands, diamonds and emeralds drip from her throat, so she only presses a hand to her chest. “What?” she whispers.
“You heard me.” I dart a glance at my father, including him in my confession. “I never wanted my Mark. I hated it. I’m glad it’s gone. I’m glad that...”
A sound from outside makes me trail off. I cock an ear. Hoofbeats sound in the distance—faint, at first, then louder.
Someone is cantering up the driveway.
My soul lightens. Weston. It has to be. He’s recovered from Brendan’s horrible insults and followed me here. He’s come for me again, because he always will.
Elation gifts me with wings. I arrow toward the window, but when I push the curtain aside?—
I freeze, terror harpooning me in the chest. I blink, trying to wish the scene away, but nothing changes. “No. No .”
It’s Alverton. The duke’s face is stern, his brow low. Ramses rides at his side. They’re already halfway up the driveway. They’ll be here in less than a minute. Right on my doorstep.
I scramble back, overturning a side table in the process. A vase careens to the floor and smashes, spraying chips of porcelain, but the sound barely reaches me. I’m a white-hot rain of fear. I’m back in that room. I’m dissolving into terror and no one is here to save me and?—
“Go upstairs,” my father says. “Now. I’ll deal with this.”
I don’t stop to question him. I lift my skirts and race up the stairs, careening around the corner and racing down the hall to my room. I slam the door with full-body force and dive into my closet, then pull those doors closed, too. I press myself into the furthest, darkest corner, where I hug my knees and try not to hyperventilate.
It doesn’t work. Oxygen pours into me, so much that my head spins and my toes tingle, as if I’ve singed them against the blazing edges of my dread .
Long minutes pass. Time is a razor, slicing and slicing at me.
Shouting erupts downstairs. I can hear it through the floor, though I can’t catch the words. I’m shaking. Downstairs, something breaks. A door slams. A heavy tread mounts the stairs, and I cower deeper into the closet. I can’t go back. I can’t. I’ll die. I’ll?—
The doors open. It’s Brendan, outlined by the sunlight streaming through my bedroom windows. Without a word, he pushes his way past the hanging gowns and furs, then settles beside me with his back against the wall. He doesn’t look at me.
“He’s gone,” he says. “You’re safe.”
I hug my knees tighter, waiting for my fear to abate. For my body to stop trembling. But it doesn’t. For some reason, those words don’t sound nearly as convincing coming from my brother as they did from Weston.
Brendan sighs and lets his head fall back against the wall. “Alverton really did all that? Nearly killed you?”
I blink, wondering if this is a trick. But I can’t see how, so I say, “He did.” The words are like broken glass being dragged up my throat.
Brendan winces. “I’m sorry. Fortuna’s curses, I’m so sorry. I thought I was doing right by you. I thought your luck would take care of you.”
My hold on my knees loosens a degree. That’s...not what I expected him to say.
“Alverton won’t come back.” Brendan sounds distant, almost like he’s talking to himself. “He lost interest the moment Dad told him your Mark was gone. He’s furious, and he’s demanding to have his money returned, with interest, but he won’t come back.”
I press a hand to my chest, willing my heart to settle. “Did Dad?—”
“Punched him. Not as hard as Weston would have. But he did it. He tried to punch that creepy Charm, too, but he tripped. No surprise there, I guess.”
I have no response for that.
Brendan sighs, his gaze fixed on some point in the distance, far beyond the closet, beyond even my room. “They’ll never let you marry Weston, Bria. You realize that, don’t you? They probably wouldn’t have anyway, but now that you’re unMarked... As far as they’re concerned, he’s ruined you.”
I gulp down the raw thing clawing to life in my chest. “I know.”
But I don’t care what they think. I’ll wait for Weston as long as I have to. When he comes, we’ll steal away together. This time, we’ll go to the courthouse before anyone can stop us.
Brendan turns his head to look at me. Finally. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? What he was to you?”
I consider. At last, the furor inside me relaxes its grip. “I did. I tried. But you never listened. You were so caught up in what you wanted that what I wanted was just an inconvenience.”
He grimaces. “I’ve been a bad brother, haven’t I?”
“You...haven’t been the best.”
He nods in concession and resumes his mile-long stare.
“Come on,” he finally says, after a minute of silence. “Let’s get you into the bath. I’ll go find Minnie. Tell her to get you cleaned up and get you fed. Then we can all go back to normal.”
I chuff a humorless laugh. “Is that what I am now? Normal?”
My brother rubs at his eyes. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t. I guess that’s kind of up to you, isn’t it?”