Page 3

VIOLET

I was facing away, yet I could feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of my head. Quinn, Nicholas, and Kenji were clearly unhappy about how I'd snuck out that morning despite not saying anything about it. Well, they couldn't, not really: I hadn't answered their phone calls or text messages while driving back to Ravenfalls, and then, as soon as I'd got back to the Coven, I'd secured a place in the meeting room where the trial was going to take place. They'd got there a while later—I knew they'd entered the room even with my back turned to them because the crackling energy of their magic had thickened the air, making it hard to breathe. Again, they weren't pleased, but they couldn't say anything about it: the trial was about to begin.

The room had been set up differently than the last time I'd been there. A stage-like structure occupied the far end of the chamber; it was empty apart from an upholstered chair and a tall, golden cage in the left corner. On the right, just below the stage, was a small standing desk where the Council had already taken place. Neat rows of chairs filled the remaining space.

All was quiet despite the growing crowd—so quiet, in fact, I could distinctly hear Sonny's muffled shouts from outside the meeting room. They grew more intense every time somebody walked in, only to quiet down again when the door clicked closed. I couldn't discern what he was screaming, but I could easily imagine the nature of his words. One son was dead, the other was on trial for attempted murder and magic theft—and I'd been involved both times.

“…you can’t leave me out; it’s my son we’re talking about!” Sonny shouted an instant before Asteria walked into the room and closed the door in his face.

"I most certainly can" she quietly replied before making her way through the rows of chairs and towards the standing desk. Her eyes briefly found mine before she started speaking in a loud, clear voice. "We're here today for the trial of Zane Boone, charged with attempted murder, attempted theft of magic, assault, and treason to the Coven." She turned around right when the arched door behind the table opened with a boom, letting two tall men escort Zane inside. "According to the established procedure, the defendant will ingest the standard dose of truth serum and undergo the Council's interrogation, and only at the end will he be judged for his alleged crimes."

Alleged my ass. He had very much attempted (and almost succeeded) to kill me, but I knew there was a procedure to follow, so I kept quiet. Not that I could do otherwise, anyway.

Asteria's words hadn't summoned a reaction exclusively out of me: the messy twirl of Nicholas's magic grew to become a tornado of dark, menacing energy that seemed to charge the room the way lightning does moments before striking. The steady pulse in Kenji's power got stronger and stronger until I could feel it vibrate on my skin. Quinn's usually light, playful magic morphed into something obscure and thick, slithering in the corners of the room and polluting the oxygen.

"I demand you all control your magic," Asteria said, and while she wasn't looking at anyone, I had a feeling she was talking to three guys in particular, "as we don't want to interfere with the trial." After a moment of silence, she nodded. "We shall begin."

As the three powers slowly stepped back, Zane was escorted onto the stage and forced to take a seat on the chair, where glowing, ethereal-looking strings chained his wrists to the armrests. They cast a bluish light all over him—they made him look ghostly. When he finally lifted his head, I could take a good look at the expression on his face. Again, he looked dead: I couldn't find traces of a single emotion behind his eyes. He stared into nothingness with icy indifference, like he wasn't about to be prosecuted for his crimes. Like he couldn't care less about the whole situation. Like he was bored.

I pressed my lips together. Twelve hours earlier, Zane had pushed me off a deadly cliff in the hopes of stealing my power and getting the recognition he thought he deserved. He'd tried to kill me. And now he looked like he couldn't wait to get over this waste of time soon enough, as if his mere presence in the room should be considered a gift. It summoned a wave of rage so intense it churned in the pit of my stomach.

“I said,” Asteria roared, her eyes finding mine, “control your magic. Failing to follow this one rather simple rule will lead to a removal from the room. No exceptions will be made.”

I swallowed. I hadn’t even realized my power was acting up.

When I finally got it under control, she nodded and turned towards the stage. "We may proceed. Bring out the truth serum, please."

I should've gotten used to it by now, but when a hooded lady materialized on the stage out of thin air, I jumped. She didn't utter a word: she merely uncorked the vial she was holding, filled with blue, glowy liquid, and held it near Zane's mouth.

His eyes widened as he pulled back a little. “No. The truth serum…” He quickly looked around, gaze filling with fear. A rather large part of me enjoyed the view a little too much. For a moment, I was startled by the intensity of my own rage, a raw and burning force that almost knocked me off balance. But I didn't care. Fear had consumed me for too long, hollowed me out until I was nothing but a vessel for it. If anger kept me standing, I welcomed it with open arms.

“Drinking the truth serum is optional. I can choose.”

"You can" Asteria confirmed. "But I shall remind you, you have more than one eye witness. Were you to refuse the serum, the Council would need to hear from all of them and then judge you on the base of their testimony." She clicked her tongue, one small crease forming on the smooth, brown skin of her forehead. "I would not recommend it, boy."

The fear in Zane's eyes was now turning into panic. Beads of sweat gleamed on his temples and over his upper lip; his chin trembled; tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. I internally cheered. Maybe he would understand how helpless I'd felt while he was trying to kill me.

I was so lost in thought, so busy gloating, I almost missed Zane reluctantly opening his lips and letting the woman pour the serum into his mouth. I perfectly remembered the feeling—the heavy, cloying flavor of something rotting, the way the liquid expanded into my mouth and down my throat, like it was a self-conscious entity perfectly aware of what it needed to do. I knew he couldn't fight it: there was no way of resisting.

"Very well" Asteria announced, before stepping back behind the desk where the Council stood. "The trial may begin."

The woman with the long, tiny braids cleared her throat. "The suspect may introduce himself to the Council."

"My name is Zane Boone" he replied, and his teary eyes grew huge.

I knew that feeling. The words being spoken out loud before you even had a chance to process them was a nightmare, just like the total loss of control that came with it. I’d never forget how awful being forced to tell the truth was. Strangely, though, I didn’t feel any sympathy for Zane. He deserved all of that and more. The trial began just as it had been for me, with three simple questions meant to prove the serum’s effectiveness. But my mind was elsewhere, tangled in fear, anger, and emotions I couldn’t even name. They swayed me, pulled me under like an unseen tide until I blinked and realized I’d missed his answers entirely. Not that it mattered.

"Where were you yesterday at around eleven fifty?" the woman went on, her voice and expression entirely neutral.

Zane’s face was turning redder and redder, and the dots of sweat on his skin made him look like a ripe tomato. “In my room” he hissed, and it almost felt like he was forcing the words out, which was strange—the words wanted to come out. There was no other place for them to go.

The woman pressed her lips together, forming a thin, rigid line. “Where were you yesterday at around eleven fifty p.m.?” she clarified.

The rage in his gaze was scary. It was even worse than last night, when he'd realized I wouldn't give up on my life so easily.

He swallowed, bit his lower lip hard, filled his cheeks with air—the truth came out nevertheless. “I was at Fia’s birthday party. At her house.”

“Was Miss Violet May Hardy present as well?”

Hearing my name made me tense up. Already? A part of me knew it didn't make sense to prolong the trial with useless questions, but still. I wasn't expecting the conversation to steer toward the main topic so soon. Hearing those words spoken aloud, stripped from the safety of my own mind, made them real in a way I wasn't ready for. They clung to me like a curse, tightening around my ribs. The void devoured the ground beneath my feet until I felt like I was standing on nothing at all.

It threatened to consume me, but I fought against it, forcing my spine straight, my breath steady. I wouldn’t look away from Zane. I couldn’t.

His eyes found mine immediately, like he already knew where to look, despite the large number of people around me watching the trial. His stare was accusatory and icy cold. "Yes" he said, and it almost sounded like a bark.

A few heads turned in my direction. I felt the heaviness of the looks, the weight of the hundreds of silent questions hanging in the air, but I pretended not to know. I couldn’t deal with that, too, not at the moment.

“Did you interact with her?” the woman asked.

A grin stretched Zane’s mouth, although it seemed more like he was gritting his teeth like a wild animal. “N-No.”

Low chatter started echoing in the room. The stares in my direction got more intense, more questioning. My heart, in the meantime, had stopped for a fraction of a second, only to restart so fast my ribcage hurt. No? Had he just said no? How was it—

"Clearer questions will be needed, I fear" Asteria intervened, interrupting my train of thought. "Be more precise."

I let out a long breath, as some tension abandoned my body. All was fine. The question was simply faulty.

The woman cleared her throat and stood up straighter. “Did you interact with Miss Violet May Hardy yesterday night?” she asked, her voice a tad bit tighter than it was before.

Zane’s yes felt like a dry heave.

“How so?”

“I asked her for help to reconnect with my half-brother, Nicholas Cohen.” He pressed a hand over his throat like he wanted to keep the words inside, to trap them where nobody would hear them. They kept on rolling off his tongue, nonetheless. “Told her I needed her to give him a letter that never really existed.” His eyes, filled to the brim with disdain, found mine again. “The dumb bitch believed me immediately.”

I flinched. Despite his harsh words, he was right. I’d never questioned him, not even once, despite the fact that we didn’t know each other. I’d been naive and blind, and most of all, stupid.

The situation with my mother should have taught me better. A lifetime of being forced to fend for myself had made asking for help feel like an impossible task, like a language I had never been taught. And yet, despite everything—despite every wound, every betrayal—I still failed to see the darkness in people until it was too late.

The screeching of a chair on the floor made me jump, alongside the rest of the people in the room. I knew where it came from before even turning —Nicholas's magic was out of control, making my skin crawl with its raw, electric intensity. He was standing up, pulling like a raging beast against Kenji, who held him in place by the hem of his leather jacket. Quinn stared at them with a half smile stretching the corners of his lips upwards, as he lazily sat on his chair. I was tempted to give him popcorn to better enjoy the show.

“Let go” Nicholas roared, eyes fixated on the stage—more specifically, on Zane. He looked like he wanted to eviscerate him and use his intestines to jump rope. “Let go before I fucking hurt you.”

“No” Kenji replied, neutral, unfazed. “Calm down. You don’t want to get kicked out.”

“He called her a dumb b—”

“Quiet” Asteria boomed from the other side of the room. “Unless you boys prefer to wait for the verdict outside.” She had a cold, insincere smile on her face. “If that is the case, we can surely arrange that.”

Nicholas's magic was buzzing with rage and disbelief. I could feel Quinn and Kenji were also unhappy about how Zane had called me, but they had it under control. Nicholas, though? Nicholas was this close to making the building explode.

I acted on instinct, for once. I stood up, choosing not to see the stares following my every movement, and I walked swiftly through the rows of chairs and toward him.

And unexpectedly, the judgment of those strangers slipped right off me, their opinions losing weight with every passing second. For the first time, I realized that what others thought of me wasn't important. The only thing that mattered was having Nicholas by my side. He saw me immediately, but before he could voice whatever thought was in his head, I hugged him. With my arms tightly wrapped around his torso and my cheek resting against the cold, smooth leather of his jacket, I let myself have a moment of peace—the first one since I'd woken up that morning.

“Please calm down” I whispered, my voice so low nobody else would hear. “I need you here. With me. Don’t make them throw you out.”

I knew he wouldn't speak, but it didn't matter: the shift in his energy told me everything I needed to know. It rumbled at first, growing bigger and stronger and scarier like a pained scream, but then it found some sort of wobbly stability. The raging, uncontrolled storm morphed into a clouded sky lit up by rare lightning bolts.

“Thank you” I murmured, before stepping back—or at least trying to: Nicholas sat back on his chair and pulled me down with him, forcing me to take a seat on his legs. “What are you doing?” I hissed, while Asteria declared the trial could continue. “I need to go back to my seat!”

"Shut up, Princess." He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me even closer—I could feel his breath behind my left ear, the warmth of his chest hitting my back in waves, the hard, unmistakable bulge under my butt. "There's no better seat than this. We also need to fucking talk, so you're not going anywhere."

To think I’d foolishly hoped they’d forget all about my little morning promenade… How stupid of me. It was clear they weren’t about to let it go.

The woman conducting the interrogation distracted me, although momentarily, from those thoughts. She cleared her throat rather loudly and said: “What happened then? Go on.”

Zane kept on describing everything he’d done to me, the details precise and vivid enough; it was like reliving the entire thing from start to finish—only, this time, it was from his point of view. And somehow, it was even worse. In his distorted view of the world, he’d made the only possible decision, the only right decision. In his eyes, I was nothing more than the means to his goal, and if I had to die horrifically in the process, whatever. It was no big deal.

Listening to his cold, soulless recount of the events, I was inevitably brought back to that cliff. My fingers gripping the rough dirt; that horrible, terrifying feeling of emptiness beneath me, the icy wind, the realization I was about to die.

I kept falling, again and again.

Although I was perfectly aware that the threat was long gone, that he couldn’t hurt me anymore, a wave of panic started rising. It squeezed my throat to the point that breathing became nearly impossible. The edges of things turned fuzzy, voices and noises were muffled, like I was watching and listening from somewhere underwater.

I couldn’t breathe. I was still falling. I was going to die.

“We’re here” a voice murmured. It was close; a warm breath caressed the right side of my throat, but it felt like it came from miles away. “Right here with you. We’ll keep you safe, love.”

The voice, the fingers interlaced with mine, the arms tightly wrapped around my waist—somehow, they brought me back to reality, a reality where I was sitting safely on Nicholas's lap, where Quinn was muttering softly in my ear, where Kenji held my hand like he feared I was going to disappear right before his eyes. Where Zane was finally being judged for his crimes. Finally, I could breathe again, the air filling my lungs after long moments.

Panic had warped my sense of time so much that minutes had slipped away without me even noticing. By the time I managed to claw back some fragile sense of control, a part of the interrogation had already passed—and I had almost missed the final judgment.

“Stand up for the verdict, please” Asteria asked, sparing a brief glance in our direction. Her clean, smooth face was weighed by a grave expression. “And for the umpteenth time, please, be quiet.”

As the crowd slowly stood from their seats, another member of the Council made his way around the desk and onto the stage, stopping right before Zane's chair. "This Council listened and carefully analyzed your serum-induced confession. You have been judged guilty of attempted murder, attempted theft of magic, assault, and treason to the Coven."

Voices echoed in the silence, but I could barely hear them: my heart was pumping loudly enough to devour anything else.

“You’re condemned to be confined in the Claustra until further notice” the man said, his voice rising above the chatter. “Take him to the cage.”

It was all it took for Zane’s expression to drop entirely. “No!” he roared, thrashing on his chair. “No, you can’t! I wasn’t the—” His words turned into a sinister hiss mid-sentence. His face reddened, the veins bulging against the skin of his throat. He took a shaky breath as two hooded individuals appeared next to him. “It wasn’t j—” Another hiss, then a violent fit of cough. “Please” he rattled, as the two figures made the magical cuffs disappear and forced him to stand up. “I wasn’t a—” He coughed again, bending over as the hooded figures dragged him toward the left corner of the stage—toward the cage.

“Stop trying to lie, boy” Asteria warned him. “You’ll end up hurting yourself.”

Rage boiled in my blood. Did he have no sense of shame? How was he still trying to deny what he'd done? I guessed he was only now realizing the true weight of his actions and, obviously, the direct consequences.

Kenji hummed disapprovingly. “Don’t like that one bit.”

I didn’t, either, but what could we do? He was being locked up. Did it really matter if he tried to deny what he’d done?

Watching Zane disappear into the cage was a dream-like experience. He was still desperately trying to speak, to rebut his own claims, as he was thrown and locked into the cage. He only had the time to press his hands against the glowing bars: mere seconds later, he was gone, leaving no trace behind.

I got up as soon as the voices started rising in the room.

“Hell no” Nicholas growled, trying to grab my sweatshirt. “Where the fuck—Where are you going?”

I barely avoided him, taking several steps back to prevent being grabbed. “I need to… There are some things I need to sort out. Alone ” I added, before he could say anything. “Alone.”

“Absolutely fucking not” he snorted, jumping up to follow me. “You disappeared without a word. We woke up to find your bed empty— fuck ." He ran his long fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. Dark brown strands were now dangling in front of his angular face, doing absolutely nothing to hide the disapproval in his expression. "You're not getting away again. Not on my watch."

I stood back to avoid his hands, reaching forward to grab me. "I had to drive Griffin to college."

“We could’ve—”

“No” I interrupted him, looking around as everyone slowly left the room. “I needed to do it by myself. I need—” I bit my lower lip, letting my gaze glide past Nicholas and land on Kenji and Quinn. “I need my own personal space. I can’t deal with being controlled 24/7. I’ve already had my fair share of that, I’d say.” I inhaled deeply, standing my ground with every last bit of courage I had in me. “I’m asking for a new room in the dorms.”

Three nos echoed in the emptying room. Nicholas was close to exhaling fire. Something rumbled under Kenji's usual uncaring mask. Quinn looked upset and lost, like an abandoned puppy.

“Yes” I replied. “There’s no reason for me to stay in your room.” I pointed at the stage, where the cage still faintly buzzed with magic. “I’m not in danger anymore.”

"I fear you might be," Kenji spoke with such confidence, for a moment his words felt like the only reasonable truth I should believe in. "Zane tried to say something. I won't take it lightly."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Yes, he tried to lie to avoid jail time. The serum stopped him from doing so. ”

I knew I had to stay vigilant and keep my guard up, so I wouldn’t be deceived again, but God, I was exhausted. The tension, the fear, the constant weight of being watched, scrutinized, analyzed. I had spent my whole life doing everything on my own, carrying burdens too heavy for one person to bear, and now it was just too much. My mind begged for mercy, overloaded by everything—every sound, every glance, every thought pressing down on me like a weight I could no longer hold.

I needed space. I needed air. I needed to find the balance that had shattered when everything I knew had crumbled down. Because, as much as those years had been hell, I had somehow built something in the midst of it all—a fragile, painful kind of stability. And now that all that suffering had been ripped away, now that I was free from it, I had no idea what to do with myself.

“Someone else might actually be involved, love” Quinn intervened, moving closer as if he were approaching a wild, enraged beast. “Despite what one might think, truth serums aren’t always unfailing. One slight hesitation in the preparation process could lead to varying degrees of fallacious outcomes.”

I forced myself to swallow. “Meaning?”

He took another step in my direction, lifting one hand to push a strand of my hair back, ever so softly. His fingers lingered longingly on a tender spot behind my right ear, a light touch that still managed to make me tremble. "Meaning, he could've been trying to accuse someone else of his crimes."

"Exactly" I chimed in, forcing myself to step back. I immediately missed his warm presence, the skin he'd touched still tingling with need. " His crimes” I went on, my voice a tad bit unstable. “Not somebody else’s.”

Kenji came forward with a quick, smooth movement, a hand gripping my hip firmly. His fingers were scorching hot—I felt them despite the thick layer of clothing I was wearing. “He also confessed his truth.” His gaze was heavy as it assessed me. “Not somebody else’s.”

An arrow of preoccupation pierced my chest, but I was quick to suppress it. My horrible parents were gone. Zane was gone. I refused to live in fear without a reason. “If something happens, we’ll deal with it” I said, after huffing out a long breath. “Now I just want to enjoy a little bit of freedom.”

I could tell by the rumble of their magic they didn’t agree in the slightest, but alas, I’d made up my mind. There was no changing that.