Chapter 27
27 Chapter 27 Just Like Your Real
Family
Faye’s POVO
When I placed the map in Hardy’s hands, I anticipated immediate action. I thought he would scrutinize every detail, searching for clues about whatever secret my father had concealed from the King. Instead, he strolled into my chamber with maddening composure, as though we had all the time in the world.
Hardy settled beside my bed with infuriating calmness, his attention split between the parchment containing traces of the dark plate and the morning light streaming through the windows. His lack of urgency baffled me. Perhaps I had never mastered the art of reading men like him, those who never revealed their true thoughts behind carefully constructed facades. Or maybe my inexperience left me blind to the calculations running through his mind. Thɪs chapter is updated by.net
My eyes wandered to his profile without permission. Despite our encounters, his presence still felt like a
dream. How could someone with features so perfectly sculpted, so devastatingly handsome they belonged on ancient statues, be the same person they whispered about as a monster?
“Are you satisfied with what you see, Consort p>
His voice cut through my thoughts while his gaze remained fixed elsewhere.
My pulse stuttered. I jerked my eyes away, warmth flooding my face. His tone carried implications I couldn’t decipher, but the low rumble made coherent thought impossible. I dropped my head, studying my hands intently, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I just wanted to confirm I brought the correct map.” The words came out barely audible. I despised how fragile I sounded. Fragility was not who I was. My body might appear frail and colorless, but my mind remained sharp and alert.
Hardy finally looked at me, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “We’ll discover that soon enough p>
His cryptic response only deepened my unease. “What exactly do you mean p>
dissolved on my tongue, I braced for some reaction, but like before, nothing happened. No burning, no icy sensation racing through my veins. It tasted like forgotten tea leaves, bland and unremarkable. I waited for my body to rebel, to send warning signals, but silence greeted me instead.
That was what terrified me most.
My healing abilities had always detected foreign substances immediately. Every poison, every injury triggered an internal alarm system. My body fought back instinctively, recognizing threats before my conscious mind could process them.
But this substance remained invisible to those
defenses.
My body accepted it because whatever composed that tablet didn’t register as dangerous. Not to me, anyway.
That made it far more menacing than any
conventional poison. This marked the second time Allen had administered it, and I still had no understanding of its true nature.
It caused no burning sensation, no mental fog, no
slowed heartbeat. Yet it perfectly mimicked poisoning symptoms while leaving no detectable trace. Even my supernatural instincts couldn’t sense anything amiss.
My curiosity burned like acid. But questions would have to wait until we left this place. I made a silent promise to corner Allen for answers about the tablet, its true purpose, and why my abilities couldn’t detect
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, forcing my features into peaceful blankness.
Right on schedule, knuckles rapped against the door.
I remained motionless.
Hinges groaned as the door swung open. Soft boot steps echoed across wooden floors, followed by a voice that made my skin crawl.
“How is she p>
Eileen had arrived.
Allen responded with professional detachment. “She’s deteriorated. The fever has returned. The poison continues circulating through her system. I’ve
exhausted my options, but she’s extremely weak. Barely conscious p>
A theatrical sob erupted, too sharp, too performed. Something heavy crashed to the floor, perhaps from Eileen dropping to her knees dramatically.
“Please allow me to bid farewell to my daughter p>
Hardy’s authoritative voice cut through her performance. “I’m departing now. Allen, wait in the corridor. Ethan has the carriage prepared. Escort her when she’s finished. I’ll join you shortly p>
More footsteps. The door opened and closed again.
Then absolute silence descended.
The change was instantaneous and chilling.
The atmosphere shifted completely. Eileen abandoned her grieving mother act without missing a beat.
She approached with predatory grace, her presence looming over me like a dark cloud. I could feel her studying my still form, her shadow blocking the morning light.
“This is your destiny,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. “You spared Sally from that monster. For that small mercy, I suppose I owe you gratitude p>
I kept my breathing steady, my eyes sealed shut.
“You don’t need to discover what you truly are. Or learn about your origins. Ignorance is kinder. This world contains enough cruelty without burdening yourself with cosmic purpose p>
I heard her pivot, addressing someone behind her. “Sally. I’ll wait outside p>
Different footsteps approached, lighter but somehow more ominous. A small hand touched mine, familiar yet strangely cold.
Then Sally spoke, and her words shattered everything I thought I knew about my little sister.
“I always despised you p>
My eyes nearly flew open. Nearly.
“I found it pathetic how you shadowed me everywhere. How you clung to me like some abandoned animal. But I smiled anyway. I pretended to
care. Because that’s what everyone expected p>
Her grip on my hand became painful, fingers digging into my skin.
“I deserve to stand beside the King. You don’t even possess a wolf. No power. No value. All you ever had was a stolen title and a face too forgettable to matter p>
Growing up, I had never detected any resentment from Sally. Had I been that naive and blind?
“I’ll sleep peacefully,” she continued, her tone brightening with cruel satisfaction, “knowing your death will be gentle. Consider it a final kindness. You’ll fade away like a whisper, quiet and unmourned. Just like your family p>
Wait. What did she just say? For a heartbeat, I thought
I had misheard.
Then her hand slipped away from mine.
“Farewell, sister,” she said, her voice dripping with vindictive pleasure. “History will remember you as nothing more than that beast’s fifth bride p>
Morh Lucia
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.