Page 38

Orin
Layla stares at the door like it might save her. Like if she wills it hard enough, it will fly open, and she’ll be able to sprint through it and escape from everything I just told her. The denial is instant, visceral, crashing over her like a wave.
“No,” she says, shaking her head hard, like she’s trying to rattle the truth out of existence. “Nope. Absolutely not. That’s insane.”
I watch her calmly, letting her fight against the inevitable, letting her reject it the way I knew she would.
Because denial is natural. It’s expected. And, in this case, it’s entirely justified. But it won’t change anything.
Layla pivots sharply, pointing at me with accusation in her eyes. “You don’t just show up at someone’s house, tell them they’re some kind of supernatural leash for a bunch of demons, and expect them to just, just go with it.”
I raise a brow. “No?”
Her mouth falls open, incredulous. “No!”
I exhale, slow and measured. “Would you prefer I hadn’t told you? That I’d left you here, ignorant, while the world collapses around you?”
She flinches, her lips pressing into a thin line. But I can see it, the way doubt flickers in her gaze, the way she wants to argue but can’t quite form the words. Because somewhere, deep down, she knows. Maybe not the details, maybe not the depth of it,but something in her has always known she wasn’t meant for an ordinary life.
I lean forward slightly, studying her. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?” I say, voice low, edged with certainty. “Why you feel different. Why you’ve never quite fit. Why your sister was taken, but you were left behind.”
Layla’s breath shudders.
I don’t stop.
“You think it was an accident? That the Academy only wanted Luna?” I let my head tilt slightly. “They didn’t take you because they didn’t know what you were. Because none of us did. But now…”
I let the weight of my words settle between us.
“Now, we do.”
She wraps her arms around herself, a defensive posture, but it’s not anger anymore, it’s uncertainty.
That’s good.
That’s very good.
Because doubt is the first step to acceptance.
I exhale, softer this time. “You’re afraid.”
She lifts her chin. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Layla exhales sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. “Even if you’re right, even if this is real, I don’t want it.” Her voice is tight, her hands curling into fists. “I don’t want to be part of whatever nightmare you’ve dragged my sister into.”
That makes me smile. Wide. Amused. Deeply entertained. Because this, this is exactly why she’s perfect for Severin. Her defiance. Her rage at the idea of being controlled, of being forced into a role she didn’t choose.
Because that’s exactly who Severin is, too. A man who refuses the cage he was born into.
And I wonder, how would he handle her? How would he react to a girl just as unyielding as he is?
Would he hate her? Would he want to break her? Or would he, in his own twisted, wretched way, understand her?
I lean back in my chair, folding my hands in my lap, watching her with something close to satisfaction.
“You might be the only person who could ever contain him,” I murmur.