A Desk Full of Mysteries

I hadn’t been back here since they sent me to Rosewood.

If they hadn’t demanded I return to collect the rest of our belongings, I never would have come back at all. The coven had already taken possession of the house—claiming it belonged to them under their precious guidelines. A house that had been in my family for generations.

Not that it mattered anymore.

If I was being honest with myself, I had no intention of ever living here again once I graduated.

Still… it hurt.

The only good memories I had of this coven lived inside these walls, back when my mother was still alive.

I could feel the stares burning into my back as I walked down the street toward the house. I didn’t bother returning them. The feeling was mutual.

Six years as their punching bag—their servant, their disappointment—had erased any fondness I might have once felt for this place.

The whispers reached me before I even made it to the front gate.

Useless.

My heart began racing, my stomach twisting into knots. Being here made me feel physically ill.

I slipped inside the house quickly, shutting the door behind me as if that might keep the memories out.

For a moment I just stood there.

The silence felt wrong.

Once, this house had been full of warmth. My mother laughing as we baked cookies in the kitchen. Evenings curled together in front of the fireplace while she read stories aloud. Summers spent in the garden behind the house, dirt under my fingernails and sunlight on my face.

Now it was nothing but dust and decay.

The curtains hanging over the windows were gray and brittle with age. The furniture had been stripped away long ago. All that remained was the narrow bed in the corner and the threadbare blankets that had kept me warm during the years after she died.

I had lived here alone from the time I was eight until Rosewood accepted me.

At first the other mages had stopped by occasionally—bringing food, making sure I had basic supplies. But when my magic didn’t manifest at ten like every other mage in the coven, everything changed.

Suddenly I wasn’t a grieving child anymore.

I was a failure.

A waste of space.

From that moment on, every scrap of food, every small kindness, every right to remain in this house had to be earned.

I had learned quickly how to work for it.

Now the only things left were a few faded pictures of family members I had never met and several of my mother’s favorite books. The covers were cracked and worn from years of use—too damaged for the coven to bother stealing.

I packed them carefully into my bag.

Before leaving, I stepped into my mother’s bedroom one last time.

The room still smelled faintly of lavender.

I turned away from the bed—and froze when the floorboard beneath my foot creaked sharply.

Then it cracked.

That definitely hadn’t been there before.

I looked down and noticed something glinting through the thin split in the wood.

Curious, I stepped back and crouched down. The board shifted beneath my fingers when I pressed on it.

After a moment of careful prying, I managed to lift it loose.

Then the board beside it.

Hidden beneath the floorboards was a small compartment.

Inside were several old books, a stack of folded papers… and a carved wooden box.

My pulse quickened.

Before I could examine anything, voices suddenly rose outside the house.

Loud voices.

Angry ones.

I sighed quietly. Of course they couldn’t even let me finish this in peace.

Moving quickly, I stuffed everything into my bag. The wooden box was surprisingly heavy as I pushed it deep inside before replacing the boards as best I could.

Then I headed for the front door.

The moment I stepped outside, my stomach sank.

Standing directly in my path was the person I had hoped never to see again.

Makayla.

Coven leader.

And my greatest tormentor.

Her mate, Brian, stood beside her like a silent shadow.

The scars on my back throbbed faintly at the sight of them.

Makayla’s icy blue eyes burned with open hatred.

To her, I wasn’t a person.

I was a stain on her coven’s name.

She hadn’t even allowed me to portal into town. Instead, she forced me to walk the entire distance from the nearest settlement—two hours on foot.

Just another reminder of exactly where I stood in this coven.

Which meant she probably already knew there was nothing left in the house worth taking.

They had stripped it of everything valuable before the grass had even grown back over my mother’s grave.