Page 23 of Marked (Wicked Heirs #1)

The weight of everything I’d learned threatened to crush me.

I had no one to talk to. No one to confide in.

But maybe—

As much as I knew I shouldn’t trust Lucian’s sons, there was something in me that pushed me toward them.

Valen especially.

What we’d shared—I believed that he really cared for me. He understood my pain, my heartache, and my loneliness.

I could talk to him.

Maybe he would have some idea of what I should do— What if he could help me escape this place?

My cheeks burned as I recalled what had happened between us in the limousine, but I also remembered the possessive anger that had burned in his eyes when Lucian had announced that he intended to marry me.

Did Valen want me for himself?

I might be able to use that to my advantage—

It seemed ridiculous for someone like me to plan anything remotely nefarious.

Withermarsh is rubbing off on you.

The thought was stark, almost comical, and I pressed my palms against my cold cheeks as I tried to make a decision.

Yes. I would speak to him.

But where—

I hadn’t seen my stepbrothers since the funeral and the sense of abandonment was like a knife in my chest.

They couldn’t have just… left.

Could they?

I’d heard their motorcycles in the depths of the night, so they had to be somewhere— but doing what? Lucian’s bidding?

I dressed carefully, and as modestly as possible—but every piece of clothing in the walk-in closet was elegant and seductive and I had a hard time choosing anything that didn’t have a plunging neckline or that hugged my curves like a second skin.

The black sweater I chose slipped from my shoulders and enveloped me like a soft cashmere glove, and the deep green satin skirt I selected had been tailored tight at the hips.

There was nothing I wouldn’t have traded a pair of sweats—why was that so hard?

There were no flats in my closet, either. Only racks of the most expensive shoes I’d ever seen. The branding and hardware on the wedges I had chosen came from shops I would never have dared to enter.

The luxury of my new life was suffocating and isolating—a strange point of frustration.

I swept my hair into a ponytail and rushed down the stairs in search of Valen.

I wandered through the house and questioned the servants I passed, but the looks they gave me in return, along with their vague responses, made me worry asking questions would get me in trouble.

Suddenly, I knew I was looking in the wrong place.

The garage.

That was where Valen and his brothers kept their motorcycles.

Maybe he would be there.

Even though it shouldn’t have been, the walk to the garage was grueling. Each step felt like another risk, another chance for me to lose my nerve. It would have been easy to just rush back into the house and barricade myself in my suite.

But I couldn’t do that.

The estate itself was ominous, but the garage was near the edge of the property, where Withermarsh’s gloom seemed to linger in every hollow.

A free-standing wooden structure, weathered by time and the storms that covered the estate, stood ominously amidst the manicured hedges. A trail of gravel crunched beneath my wedges as I approached.

The large barn doors were open, and as I stepped inside, an array of motorcycles which gleamed under strategically placed lights greeted me; metal beasts waiting for their masters to tame them.

Valen’s sleek black machine sat apart from the rest, like a predator waiting to spring.

“Lose your way, pretty bird?”

The voice made me jump. I spun around to find Valen leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, and a wicked grin twisted his lips. The casual pose did nothing to hide the sinewy strength that hummed beneath his flesh.

“I... I was looking for you...”

Valen’s grin widened at my confession, his eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion. It was impossible to tell whether he was amused or irritated, but there was a glint in his eye that set my nerves on edge.

“Why? Need something?”

“I... I need to talk to you.” My voice became quieter as I faltered under his gaze and I wondered if I’d made a terrible mistake in coming here.

His eyebrow rose. “About what?”

“About...about everything.” I stuttered, standing my ground under his penetrating gaze. His eyes were like daggers piercing through my defenses. The words swelled in my chest and pressed against my ribs as if they could physically break free.

Valen appeared unsurprised for a moment before he pushed off the wall and strode toward me. I tensed as he closed the gap between us and his presence consumed the space around me. The scent of engine oil and musky cologne wafted from him, an intoxicating mix that made my knees tremble.

“Talk then.” He murmured and leaned against a workbench beside me.

“I need answers,” I said. I tried to maintain eye contact, but failed miserably. My gaze kept shifting from his intense dark eyes to the ground and back again.

“From me?” He asked, sounding more surprised than dismissive.

“Y-yes,” I replied with a stiff nod.

“And why would you think I’d have any answers you’d want to hear?”

“Because...” I moved a few steps away from him, needing space to breathe and gather my thoughts. “You’re the only one here who seems to understand...the only one who seems to care.”

A silence stretched between us, growing dense with unspoken words and shared secrets. His face remained unreadable, but there was something softer in his gaze now—a hint of compassion ?

“I— I’ve been thinking… Titus—”

Valen’s eyes narrowed.

“He called my mother a traitor…”

Valen’s chuckle sounded bitter. “A traitor’s whore,” he corrected me.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides and I glared at him.

He held up his hands in self-defense. “It’s the truth— don’t be mad at me.”

“Tell me,” I demanded. “Tell me what happened.”

Valen regarded me carefully. “You don’t know?”

I shook my head. “How could I?”

Valen let out a snort and his amusement at my innocence was clear in his expression. “My dear sister,” he began, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “You have no idea how deep the darkness goes, do you?”

I should have stopped. I should have gone back to the house.

“Tell me,” I insisted, and instantly hated the way my voice trembled. “I deserve to know the truth.”

“Fine.” He straightened and fixed me with a gaze that seemed to pierce into my very soul. “Your father was Lucian’s acolyte. His most trusted companion. But he craved everything Lucian had.”

“An acolyte— He wanted to be a Necromi?”

The thought filled me with dread. Why would anyone seek that power?

Valen nodded. “More than anything. But he got greedy— it happens more than anyone likes to admit. There are those who become hungry for power. Addicted— Your father was a junkie. Everything he was given, he wanted more. He took more than he should have.”

Valen’s voice was casual as he revealed these truths to me, and I wondered briefly if he was enjoying my discomfort. But I couldn’t stop him. Not now .

I drew in a shaky breath and felt as if the world had tilted beneath me.

“What else—” My voice caught in my throat, and his words spun my mind.

“Your father believed Lucian had too much power,” Valen said slowly, his gaze steady on me. “He saw an opportunity to take it for himself.”

“By betraying Lucian?”

Valen nodded. “He tipped off the Sages Council—told them about Lucian’s plans for Messana.”

Traitor.

“And my mother...?” I choked on the words.

“Your mother was loyal,” Valen interrupted quietly. “Loyal to Lucian, and those who held true power in Messana.”

My breath hitched as realization dawned on me.

“She betrayed my father…”

My mouth was dry and a weight settled in my heart, heavy with crushing dread. I couldn’t believe it... wouldn’t allow myself to.

“No,” I shook my head vehemently as I stepped back from him. “You’re lying. Why would she betray her own husband?”

“I wish I were,” Valen said with a shrug. His expression had softened somewhat, but there was a glimmer of something else burning in his eyes.

Pity? Irritation?

It was hard to tell with him.

“But why? Why would he— Why would he turn against his own mentor? Why would he turn against the Sages—” I couldn’t comprehend any of it. I’d spent my life at Messana Academy being taught by Sages… they were the reason Messana had survived and had lived in peace for so many centuries.

The Necromi only wanted to destroy it.

Valen leaned back against the workbench, hands resting lazily on either side of him as he stared at me. “Power is a potent poison, little sister. Once you taste it, it’s hard to resist its call... Your father succumbed to it. And your mother... She believed Lucian could offer her something greater than your father ever could. In the end, she made the right decision.”

“The right decision— How can you say that?” The words tasted bitter on my tongue.

“Easy,” Valen replied with a shrug. “She loved power more than she loved your father.”

Hot tears stung at my eyes as I looked at Valen.

How could he be so calm? How—

“Your mother was the one who orchestrated his downfall,” he continued. “She gave him the wrong contact at the Sages Council. He confessed everything to someone who had already pledged themselves to Lucian.”

I stared at him as horror and confusion roiled within me.

“My mother set him up—” I whispered almost to myself.

“She did what was necessary.” Valen’s voice was as smooth as ever, but there was a hint of darkness in his tone that made my stomach twist. “She was the one who informed Lucian about your father’s plan. She was instrumental in Lucian’s escape and your father’s capture. He thought he could escape Messana— He tried to take you with him. Did you know?”

I wanted to run far away from him and what he was saying, but I was frozen in place.

A hint of a smile hovered at the corner of his mouth. “Your mother was the one who uttered the final words of the spell that killed your father.”

The world around me seemed to crumble and a profound sense of betrayal stole my breath away as it shuddered through me.

Valen offered no comfort or reassurance as I swayed on my fee t

I stared blankly as his words echoed in my head. They ricocheted off the walls of my mind and wounded me with each repeat. I stumbled forward and leaned heavily against the workbench beside him. I didn’t trust my legs to hold me upright.

“Damn you,” I whispered. But my anger wasn’t directed at him—not really.

Valen let out a chuckle as he shook his head. “You asked.”

Emptiness radiated from my chest and threatened to consume me entirely.

The buzzing in my ears seemed to grow louder with each passing second as thoughts tumbled over each other in my head.

My father was a traitor—but if he’d brought down Lucian and the Necromi, Messana would have hailed him as a hero.

But he wasn’t a hero. He had betrayed the Sages, too.

And the Council—was it corrupted by Lucian’s influence even now?

I couldn’t ask.

I didn’t want to know.

But my mother— She had been the key to it all.

Without her, Lucian would have fallen.

What did that make me?

“It’s a shame that your mother wasn’t pregnant when she did it,” he said suddenly.

I turned toward him incredulously. “What?”

My voice was strangled, and it was hard to breathe.

Valen brushed off his hands and stepped away from the bench. “You missed out on absorbing some of your father’s power— When Julia killed him, she took all that power... everything he’d learned from Lucian… She took it all for herself. It seems a bit unfair that you didn’t get to benefit from what she did.”

“Benefit? You think I would want to benefit from that?”

Valen shrugged, a devil-may-care look on his face. But his eyes watched me closely, as though I was an intriguing puzzle he sought to understand. “I’m just saying your father wielded considerable power—enough to believe that he was capable of opposing Lucian. It’s a shame, that’s all.”

He said it so matter-of-factly—but how could he?

It was cruel.

Callous.

Unfair.

My hands clamped onto the edge of the workbench.

The words that were spoken at my mother’s funeral echoed in my mind.

A beloved sister of the Order.

All these years… she had told me nothing about my father.

I didn’t even know what he looked like—only that I looked too much like him.

My knees threatened to buckle under the weight of this devastating truth.

I wanted to scream and deny everything he was saying, but the cold certainty in Valen’s eyes held me captive.

“Please,” I begged as tears stung my eyes, “tell me it isn’t true.”

But Valen only shook his head. “You’ve been innocent for too long, Avril,” he said.

A chill crept up my spine as Valen turned away from me, dismissing the significance of the words that had just left his lips. I wanted to reach out and grab his arm, to demand more answers, but the space between us was vast and cold.

“Is that it?” I choked out. “You tell me all of this… bullshit… and then... what? You’re just going to leave me?”

Valen paused, his back still to me, an air of indifference surrounding him. “The truth is what it is. There’s nothing you can do to change it. ”

I fought the urge to scream as my nail scraped against the metallic edge of the workbench.

Anger, hurt, and confusion swirled within me. I wanted to throw something. Cast my magic out and destroy something. But even though my power surged against my palms, it did nothing but warm the metal I held.

I drew a shuddering breath as I realized that beneath all of it was a terrifying sense of isolation—the realization that I was truly alone, with no one to trust or confide in.

“Wait,” I called out in desperation. Valen didn’t move, but I could feel his attention on me, expectant and unyielding. “How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

“Does it matter?” he replied, his voice silkily cold.

I wanted to challenge him, to accuse him of deceit, but deep down, I knew his words were true.

I had glimpsed the darkness within my mother’s eyes—I was sure now that I had never really known her.

The silence that stretched between us was suffocating. I stared at Valen’s back, his lithe form rigid and unyielding.

I couldn’t breathe.

My chest hurt as if a thousand knives were plunging into my heart over and over again.

“You— you can’t just drop something like that on me and then walk away,” I rasped.

He turned slightly and I could see a smile on his lips. “If you weren’t ready to know, you shouldn’t have asked.” He shrugged casually. “But isn’t it better this way?”

His words were a cold slap against my face—harsh and full of unwanted truth. He was right; I hadn’t been prepared. But how could I be? Everything he’d told me was… I could barely wrap my mind around any of it.

“Better? Better how, exactly?” My voice sounded hollow and thin in the chilly silence of the garage .

“Better to know where you come from... and who to trust,” he responded.

“Trust?” My laugh was a bitter sound. “How am I supposed to trust you when this... this is how you treat me?”

The grin that twisted Valen’s lips was cruelly handsome and his eyes burned with an ominous light. “No one said you have to.”

His answer struck me like a physical blow, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

“What are you saying?”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me with those inscrutable eyes.

“I’m saying,” he began in a dangerously soft tone, and my gaze was drawn to his hands glowing with the pale blue smoke of his power. “That, just like your mother... like your father... like everyone else—I’m out for myself too.”

The revelation hung ominously in the air, yet he’d said it so casually—as if that’s how things should be.

As if that’s how they’ve always been.

“But...” My breath hitched as betrayal stabbed again into my heart. The words tangled on my lips. “Valen...”

“No,” He interrupted me before I could form a complete thought. “I’m not your knight in shining armor here to save you.”

“And I’m not your damsel in distress,” I shot back in a voice that shook with fury.

But it sounded hollow in my own ears and I couldn’t stop the tremor in my voice. I wasn’t brave. I wasn’t strong.

And they all knew it.

His bitter laughter dried up any remnant of tears that were left in me.

“Isn’t that what you’ve been playing all this time, Avril?” He turned towards me fully now, and the blue smoke that curled around his fingers seemed to glow more intensely against the darkness. “An innocent girl held captive by the big, bad wolves?”

“I’m not playing!” My heart pounded against my chest as I met his gaze directly. “I didn’t ask for this! I’m... I’m just trying to survive.”

“Surviving isn’t playing nice, little sister. It’s kill or be killed.” His fingers twitched, and I knew he was itching to use his magic on me—but did he want to scare me or prove a point?

“I won’t become like you,” I said, defiance ringing clear in my voice. “I’m not like my mother—or my father.”

Valen shook his head slightly and a mocking smile curved over his lips. “You already have their blood running through your veins. You might not see it now, but eventually… that darkness will seep out and consume you.”

“No.” The denial was automatic, desperate even as terror gripped me.

Pleasure flickered in Valen’s eyes as he observed my fear-stricken face.

“We’ll see.” Valen began to walk away again but stopped midway and glanced back at me over his shoulder, “And Avril... You can either embrace what you are or be crushed by it.”

Frozen in place, I could only watch as he stalked out of the workshop and left me alone with the bitter truth of his words in the eerily silent space.

His cruel laughter echoed in my mind long after he had disappeared into the night.

I was numb and empty, and the taste of betrayal was thick on my tongue.

It clawed at me, the uncertainty, the fear.

All I wanted was to deny it and bury this newfound truth beneath layers of ignorance. His words were like a poison that infected my whole being.

Maybe Valen was right .

Maybe I was just like them— Maybe it was already too late for me.

I sank to my knees on the cold, oil-stained floor, overwhelmed by the crushing weight of despair.

Traitor. Betrayer. Murderer.

Betrayal was in my blood.

I scooped up a handful of rusted bolts scattered across the floor and threw them against the far wall in frustration. They ricocheted back with a dull echo that filled me with an ugly satisfaction.

“Kill or be killed,” his words repeated in my mind.

Would survival mean becoming a monster like them?

Or had I always been one straight from my birth, by virtue of having their blood in my veins?

Could I even believe in that? Did I really believe that my fate was already decided?

I shook my head and pushed myself to my feet.

It wasn’t true.

I wasn’t like them.

But what if you are?

“Shut up,” I muttered.

I had to find a way to survive… or I’d be swallowed whole.