The Siren's Scion
"All of it! The whispers, the 'accidents'… the way I felt about Isla! You poisoned me!"
Aunt Cordelia's mask of concerned benevolence slipped, revealing the cold, polished marble of her true face.
"Poisoned you?" she echoed, her voice a silken sneer. "I nurtured you. I protected you from your own pathetic weakness. This family's legacy—the true Siren's birthright—was meant for me! Not for a broken doll like you, or that stubborn, useless girl."
Her eyes flickered toward my shimmering form. "But it skipped me, landing in you two. So I decided if I couldn't have it, I would control it. I would make sure you were all too fractured, too consumed by your own petty dramas, to ever become a threat.