Page 72 of Bound By Crimson

Chapter Seventy-Two

The Unclean

The silence after Editha’s exit rang louder than her words.

Lyric stared at the door like it might disappear.

Her hands were still shaking. Her stomach hurt—not from labor, but from something deeper. Something that didn’t bleed. Something that just… hollowed.

Shame.

Grief.

Clarity.

The room was still.

She heard the distant groan of old plumbing. The hum of the walls. The faint rustle of a curtain that never moved.

She could still taste the word uncle on her tongue.

It sat there like poison.

I let him touch me.

I kissed him.

I wanted him.

She pressed her hand to her chest, like it might stop her heart from splitting open.

He was my uncle.

My uncle.

Her skin crawled. Her mouth filled with saliva. She swallowed it down.

What kind of person does this?

What kind of family hides this ?

She shook her head, trying to shake it off—but it was in her.

I didn’t know—but I do now.

And she felt ashamed.

She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes.

She wasn’t crying.

Not anymore.

What came now wasn’t pain or panic.

It was worse.

Stillness .

The kind of stillness that only settles when something inside you dies.

She didn’t know how long she sat there.

Eventually, the door opened.

Tessa entered quietly, eyes down. She carried a fresh towel, a tray of food, and a tremble in her hands.

She didn’t speak.

Neither did Lyric.

Tessa placed the tray down and turned to leave.

Just before she reached the door, Lyric said, “You knew.”

Tessa froze.

“You knew before I said it.”

A shaky breath. “I can’t talk to you about that. You don’t understand what any of this means.”

She trailed off.

Lyric sat up straighter, her voice barely audible.

“Please, Tessa. Please help me.”

Tessa turned.

“You know what they’re doing to me. You do. I know you do.” Lyric said, her voice raw.

“You seem like a good person… but if you walk away now, then you’re just like them. Please Tessa! I need your help!”

Tessa’s throat worked. Her lip quivered. She opened her mouth then closed it.

“Mrs. Thornwick helped me when I had no one,” she said softly. “I owe her everything. And you—you act like this is some kind of punishment. Like you weren’t chosen.”

Lyric’s breath caught .

“You don’t know how lucky you are.” Tessa continued. “Being a Thornwick… that’s not a curse. It’s a place. A purpose. A legacy. Some of us would give anything for that.”

Lyric stared at her, stunned. Realizing how deep the Thornwick manipulation ran.

“You’re lucky you got to be with him… I would do anything for him. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not a full Thornwick. My mother was weak. She got pregnant from someone outside the bloodline—someone unclean. I’m only half. Not worthy to carry the legacy.”

Lyric’s blood ran cold.

She wasn’t just alone. She was outnumbered and powerless.

Tessa’s face flushed with anger—a side Lyric had never seen before.

“If they hadn’t found you… if you hadn’t come back… maybe I still would’ve had a chance. Maybe I would’ve been the one to be with Malachai. Not you. But now?” Her voice cracked. “Now that’ll never happen.”

“You don’t even see what you’ve been given,” Tessa hissed.

“You were handed the one thing I’ve spent my life proving I’m worthy of. And you… just scream and cry and act like you’ve been violated.”

Her lip curled. “You weren’t violated. You were given something sacred. And you threw it away.”

She looked like she wanted to say more.

But instead, she whispered, “I’ll come back later.”

She shut the door.

The lock clicked.

Lyric stared at the untouched food.

She was in shock. She wasn’t hungry.

She lay back, every muscle aching, and turned her face toward the wall.

The upside-down wallpaper stared back at her.

She had screamed.

She had cried.

She had begged.

And still, nothing had changed.

But now…

Now she knew exactly where she stood.