The rain drummed continuously on the pack house's slate roof. A rhythm that Zara had grown accustomed to as the background to her life. There was a strong smell of damp wool and lye soap in the laundry room. A mountain of linen was causing Zara and two other maids, Maria and Lily to struggle. Their arms were hurting, they pushed and pulled in an attempt to break through the never-ending pile. Maria let out a sigh and used the back of a soapy hand to remove a stray hair from her forehead. “This is a job for ten not three,” Maria complained bitterly.“Tell that to Mrs. Julieta,” Lily answered in a low murmur.Among the maids, Lily was the youngest and most shy. She seemed to be constantly watching what she said. As though she were worried that the house might be listening. There was nothing from Zara. She was folding a big bulky bedsheet with concentration. She moved with efficiency and practice. Her thoughts were already focused on the next assignment: polishing the dining table b
There was a silent sadness in the pack house that no one dared to mention. In a tiny private study, Daemon and Lira stood with their remaining possessions crammed into two plain leather bags. They were leaving everything they knew behind for a journey of unknown dangers. They weren't going on a hunt or a trade. Selene broke the silence with a voice as quiet as a whisper but intently sharp. She stood by the window staring at the sky as it grew darker. She turned to them. “It is all prepared. Pay close attention, Lira. This is your cover. The Park House is where you will go once you get to Nightfang. You will explain to them that you are an orphan. That the rogues took your pack, and that you would like to offer your services as a maid. You'll claim that all you need is a place to live and food to eat and that you don't require payment. It is well known that the Park House never turns away people who offer to work for free.”Lira nodded while clutching her bag strap, her knuckles we
“No!” Their collective scream rang out through the tense air. A chilling sound of fear that Lira could hear in her ears but she had a firm resolve.Their eyes glazed in panic as they all stared at her and the gleaming dagger she was holding in her shaking hand.Every breath was held captive by the horrifying scene as the air crackled with a silent desperation. Bethar appeared to be about to pass out, his face pale with horror.His wide shoulders, which are typically so firm and comforting, appeared to sag under an unseen burden. His gaze seemed to be fixed on a stranger as he gazed at his only child, his beloved Lira. His heart was threatened to stop completely by the terrifying picture of her about to hurt herself. “ Please Lira,” he begged in a whisper that could hardly be heard over the racing pounding of his own heart. “Anything you want, I'll do. Just drop the dagger.” Normally full of fierce protectiveness his eyes now swam with a pleading, desperate sorrow. He reached out t
At the sight of him, Selene and Ethan halted their training. The rhythmic sounds of their practice had just a moment before filled the air but now there was an unsaid tension in the air. At the edge of the clearing, Lira's father, Bethar, stood. His daughter was the center of his attention and his face was a mix of worry and mounting annoyance. Lira whirled around, her eyes blazing with a fierce rage that seemed to ignite the air itself. She spoke sharply and bitterly as she glared at her father. She broke the silence by demanding in a harsh voice. “What do you want?” Already flushed, Bethar's face turned red. His jaw clenched as he clearly struggled to keep his temper. Before speaking he inhaled deeply to regain his composure. His tone attempted to show a composed authority that hardly concealed his rage. “I am your father, Lira,” he said, maintaining a fixed stare. “You will speak to me with respect.”Lira scoffed. A sneer curled her lips. With a tone full of sarcasm she shot
In anger, Estelle slammed her door. The sound, a harsh punctuation mark to her rage, echoed through the silent hallways. With a raw guttural scream that ripped from her throat, she threw everything on her dressing mirror away with a frantic arm sweep. A fragile perfume bottle shattered against the wall, its aroma blending with the pungent odor of her rage. A silver brush clattered to the ground and then jewelry fell like a waterfall. Her fists clenched, knuckles white, and shaking.As though she had run a long race, her chest heaved and she started breathing heavily. She had a dangerous fire burning in her eyes which were normally sparkling with craftiness. His daughter was more important to him than she was. In her mind, the idea was a poisonous sting. He used to devote all of his time to her. Giving her every look, every word, and every moment. However, his focus has been split ever since that brat entered the house. It felt torn from her rather than merely divided. She heard
The great silence of Bethar's magnificent living room was filled with the sound of his footsteps. He paced like a lion in a cage. His every step was a desperate, physical expression of the chaos roiling inside of him. One terrible question consumed his mind, a whirlwind of terrifying possibilities: Where was she? He saw his maid Meredith standing in front of him, her eyes wide with a fear that reflected his own, her lips quivering.“ What do you mean she's nowhere to be found!” his own voice unfiltered and tinged with growing panic, continued to reverberate in the silent room.With every minute that went by, the fear only grew stronger. He had hurried to her room holding onto the irrational and desperate hope that Meredith was just lying. Yet no. In place of his daughter's lively presence, the room had been deserted, eerily quiet. And most of her possessions were missing. Her favorite books, the fragile items she treasured, and multiple changes of clothes from her closet were all