Chapter 8: Like a Puppet

With trembling knees, I slowly backed away from the door.

Every part of me wanted to run, to scream. But I forced myself to move carefully. One careless step would alert my parents, and I had no idea what they would do if they discovered I had heard their conversation.

Only when I reached the end of the hallway did I turn and hurry back toward my bedroom.

I shut the door behind me, locked it, and pressed my back against the wood. My chest rose and fell too quickly, but no matter how many breaths I took, I couldn’t seem to get enough air.

My parents wanted to kill me.

The words repeated inside my head until they no longer sounded real.

I began pacing across the room, my legs still wobbling beneath me. Tears burned my eyes, blurring everything in front of me.

I knew I was their greatest disappointment. Eva and Tyrell Holt had never tried to hide how ashamed they were of me. For twenty years, they had treated me like a burden they were forced to keep because exposing the truth would damage the Holt family’s reputation.

But I had never imagined they would go this far.

“H-how could they even think of doing that?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m their daughter.”

The words sounded pathetic the moment they left my mouth.

Had they ever truly considered me their daughter?

My knees gave out, and I collapsed onto the carpet. I gripped the sides of my hair as a sob tore through me, but I quickly covered my mouth to keep anyone outside from hearing.

Tears poured down my cheeks.

I cried until my throat hurt and my chest felt hollow. I wasn’t sure how long I remained on the floor, but eventually, the tears slowed. The pain didn’t disappear. It only settled deeper, turning into a numbness that made it easier to breathe.

I pushed myself to my feet and walked toward the window.

The Holt estate stretched beneath me, peaceful beneath the morning sun. Servants crossed the gardens carrying flower arrangements left from the wedding. Several vehicles were parked near the front entrance, waiting to transport my luggage and escort me to Crescent City later that afternoon.

Everything looked perfectly normal.

No one outside that room knew the leaders of the Estia Clan were discussing how to murder their only daughter.

I wiped my cheeks with the sleeve of my dress and tried to understand the situation.

The Ashcrofts possessed proof that I had been curse-born from birth. They knew my parents had lied about my powers and had deceived the entire Estia Clan for twenty years.

In exchange for their silence, they wanted the western herb fields and control of the trade road leading into Crescent City.

I knew how valuable those lands were.

The herbs grown there could not survive outside Estia’s soil. They were used in healing tonics, protective mixtures, and several medicines produced by businesses owned by the clan. Those fields were not our only source of income, but losing them would affect thousands of people who depended on their production.

If my parents surrendered the land, the Estia Clan would suffer a tremendous financial loss.

But if they refused and the truth became public, the damage would be even worse.

The council would learn that the Holt family had presented a curse-born witch as Veyra’s chosen heir. Rival families would question my father’s right to rule, and every enemy waiting for an opportunity to weaken us would finally have one.

I understood why my parents were desperate.

I had even believed that, despite everything, they would find another solution.

I had been foolish enough to think they would protect me. Instead, I was the solution they had chosen to sacrifice.

A knock sounded against the door. My entire body stiffened.

“Miss Ruelle?” a maid called from the hallway. “Breakfast has been served in the dining room.”

I stared at the door, my heart pounding.

For one frightening moment, I wondered whether my parents had already begun their plan. Had they sent the maid to make sure I came downstairs? Would something be waiting in my food?

Then I remembered the last part of their conversation.

They intended for my death to happen after I reached Crescent City. If I died inside the Holt estate, suspicion would fall on them. But if something happened after I entered Blackthorn Pack’s territory, they could blame the Ashcrofts and deny every accusation made against them.

“I’ll be there shortly,” I answered.

I washed my face with cold water and carefully covered the redness around my eyes. My hands continued trembling as I brushed my hair, but by the time I left the room, I had managed to compose myself.

My parents did not join me for breakfast.

They rarely did, but for once, their absence brought relief rather than loneliness. I didn’t know what I would have done if I had been forced to sit across from them while knowing they were planning my death.

I took my usual seat at the long dining table. A servant poured tea into my cup while another uncovered several dishes of eggs, fruit, pastries, and grilled vegetables.

I stared at the food without appetite.

The family I had married into had evidence that could destroy the Holts, and they intended to use it to take control of valuable land. Pierce had likely known about it from the beginning.

His question from the night before returned to me.

‘Did you really lose your magic…or did you never have it to begin with?’

I could vividly remember how he had watched my reaction as though he already knew the answer.

Had he married me knowing his family planned to use me against my parents?

The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Pierce had shown me more consideration in one night than my parents had shown me in twenty years, but that did not mean I could trust him. He was still an Ashcroft. His family had agreed to the marriage while secretly holding proof that could ruin mine.

Perhaps every gentle touch and reassuring word had only made it easier for him to study me.

I forced myself to eat despite the tightness in my stomach. I needed strength, especially now that I understood I had no one to rely on.

My parents wanted to kill me to escape the consequences of their lies.

The Ashcrofts intended to use me as leverage.

Everyone around me seemed to be holding a string attached to some part of my life, pulling me in whatever direction benefited them most. Just like a puppet.

But… I didn’t want to die.

As pathetic my life was, I didn’t want it to end this way.

Not for Eva and Tyrell Holt. Not for the Estia Clan. Not to protect businesses, land, or a reputation built on lies.

I had spent my entire life doing what my parents demanded. I had remained inside the estate, accepted their punishments, protected their secrets, and married the man they chose for me.

I had done enough. More than enough, actually.

If they no longer regarded me as their daughter, then I no longer owed them the obedience of one.

After breakfast, I returned to my bedroom.

My luggage had already been packed. Several large suitcases stood near the wall, along with smaller cases containing my jewelry, books, and personal belongings. The servants had prepared everything the day before so I could leave for Crescent City that afternoon without delay.

I looked at the luggage for several seconds.

The journey to Crescent City might be my only chance.

My father’s words echoed in my mind.

‘Once she reaches the Crescent City, her death can be blamed on them.’

They did not intend to kill me before I left Estia’s lands. They needed me to arrive in Crescent City alive so suspicion would fall on the Blackthorn Pack and the Ashcrofts.

That meant I still had time.

My gaze moved toward the shelves beside my bed.

For the first time in my life, I felt grateful for the power I had spent years wishing I could erase.

Curses.

Some witches possessed the natural ability to cast them, but they could also use ordinary spellcraft. For the witches, curses were merely a forbidden branch of magic. Dangerous, illegal, and rarely practiced.

I was different.

Curses were the only form of magic my body understood.

My parents had never allowed anyone to train me. They feared that teaching me would only make me more dangerous. But they had also left me alone for most of my life, surrounded by one of the largest private libraries in Estia’s lands.

Books had been my companions since time immemorial. 

Over the years, I had secretly studied every text I could find about curse magic. Most offered only warnings, historical accounts, and descriptions of witches who had been executed for practicing it. Still, hidden among them were fragments of useful knowledge.

I had once believed that understanding my ability might help me discover something good within it.

Now, it might help me survive.

I pulled a thick leather-bound book from the bottom shelf. Its cover was faded, and no title had been printed along the spine. I had taken it from a restricted section of the library years ago and hidden it inside my room before anyone noticed it was missing.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I opened the book and quickly turned through the yellowed pages.

I kept searching until I found what I needed.