It's been six months.
Six months since the night I was shoved into the back of a black SUV, six months since I screamed at Adam Blackthorn and tried to scratch his face off.
Six months since I felt like the world had spun me off its axis.
And now?
I'm sitting at the breakfast table in pajama pants with a mouthful of cinnamon toast while Ava tries to steal a piece.
"Rhea. Give me the corner. The corner has the most sugar."
I slap her hand away, full elder-sister style. "You want the corner? Earn it."
Jane snorts from across the table, already dressed in sleek black jeans and a graphic tee that reads Sarcasm: Now in 4K. "She has a whole loaf of bread, Ava. Leave her crusts alone."
Ava groans. "But they're special crusts. They smell like trauma and butter."
"Exactly how I like my mornings," I mutter, reaching for my mug.
Jane raises an eyebrow. "You okay today?"
I nod.
Because I am.
Kind of.
It's the first time in years I've had some kind of structure, people who check in on me—even if they're chaotic, emotionally-stunted people with trust issues and a haunted mansion.
Adam walks in right then, dressed in his usual black-on-black, hair slightly messy, holding a mug that says 'World's #1 Nightmare'.
"Good morning, sunshine," I say, deadpan.
He just looks at me. "You're late."
I sigh dramatically. "You're bossy."
"I'm responsible."
"You're irritating."
"You'll miss your bus."
"I'm walking."
"You'll be late."
"I'll teleport."
"You can't."
"…yet."
He looks at me for a second too long, a tiny smirk playing at his mouth, then turns away.
It's become normal—this banter, this house, this life.
---
School has become survivable.
Lila still texts me memes every morning before class.
Lucien waves at me during chem, still charming but no longer part of my chaos.
I'm in a routine now. A rhythm.
Sometimes I even laugh without feeling guilty.
But under all that?
There's still a small ache.
A corner of my heart that hasn't healed.
I miss Mom. I miss… not being the girl who hides powers. Who's scared of touching people. Who's afraid she'll never feel normal again.
But I'm learning to carry it. Quietly.
---
That afternoon, I skip my last class and walk home alone. The sun is soft and golden, the trees rustling like they're whispering secrets.
As soon as I enter the mansion, something shifts.
I feel it like a tremor under my skin.
A hum. A flutter. A chill that isn't cold.
And suddenly… the light flickers.
I stop in the hallway.
My hands tingle. The chandelier above me shakes slightly, even though there's no wind.
I swallow. "Okay, that's new."
---
I run to the library.
Adam's there, reading something way too ancient. When he sees my face, he closes the book immediately.
"You felt it?"
I nod. "What was that?"
He stands slowly. "You've hit the threshold. It's time."
"Time for what?"
He studies me carefully. "Your third power."
I blink. "I have a third?"
He gives a faint smile. "Everyone in your bloodline has three. Yours are... unusual. Stronger."
My chest tightens. "And what is this one supposed to be?"
He shrugs. "We don't know. It doesn't show itself until it chooses you."
"That's... not terrifying at all."
"You'll be fine."
"You said that right before I nearly burned down your greenhouse."
Adam sighs. "And yet the hydrangeas survived. You're getting better."
I pause. "…You kept the hydrangeas?"
He doesn't answer. Just walks toward the door and says quietly, "Come find me after dinner. The ritual is simple. But this one... will be different."
---
That night, I sit in my room holding my old journal.
I flip through old entries. Painful ones.
The bird. Tyson. Marcus.
Mom.
And then I look at the newest entry I've written:
> I think I'm not the same girl anymore. The one who begged to be loved. The one who thought pain made her weak. I still miss home. But maybe I'm starting to find a new one—one built from secrets and fire.
---
Outside the window, the sky turns deep indigo.
Something old stirs beneath my skin.
And in the shadows of the mansion, my third gift starts to wake up.
The night was normal.
Too normal.
Adam had been cold but calm at dinner, Jane and Ava were arguing over whose playlist was better, and I had spent the evening curled up with Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, pretending my life wasn't full of curses and secret rituals.
I was walking back from the study lounge—book in hand, hoodie sleeves tugged over my fingers—when it happened.
The lights went out.
All of them.
In one clean, sharp second—click—the entire corridor was swallowed in black.
My heart stuttered.
I froze. "Hello…?"
No answer. Just the sound of my breath and the slight crackle of electricity trying to recover. I turned toward the stairs when—
I felt it.
A presence.
Heavy. Cold. Familiar.
"Adam?" I whispered.
But when I turned, it wasn't Adam.
It was Marcus.
His figure melted out of the darkness like smoke—calm, elegant, shirt slightly unbuttoned, and eyes gleaming too bright to be human.
"Oh," he said, smiling. "I was hoping it'd be you."
---
"What do you want?" I asked, instantly on alert. I tried to step back, but he moved closer—too close.
"Don't look so tense," he said. "It ruins your pretty face."
"Don't flirt with me like you didn't traumatize me by bathing in my room."
He chuckled. "You're still mad about that? It was a compliment, darling."
I clenched my fists. "What do you want, Marcus?"
There was a beat of silence.
Then his smile vanished.
"I want to know what Adam's hiding. And I think you're the key."
He moved fast.
Too fast.
Before I could react, he slammed me against the wall—cold fingers pressing to my neck, not hard enough to choke me, but enough to make my chest tighten in panic.
"Let go!" I shouted, kicking his shin.
But Marcus didn't flinch.
"You know what I hate about you?" he whispered, voice low and venomous. "You've ruined everything. My baby brother never cared about anyone. And now look at him—picking flowers for you, hiding rituals, sneaking around."
I tried to shove him back, but his strength was unnatural.
"You're not just some sad, broken girl with powers," he said. "You're a threat. And I'm going to fix that."
His hand moved up—toward my temple.
A chill slid down my spine.
"No—don't touch me—"
I didn't mean to scream.
But I did.
And then—BOOM—a burst of raw energy exploded out of my skin. A golden flash. Wild. Untamed. I didn't know what I'd done—but Marcus staggered back.
His hand was bleeding.
He looked down at it—surprised. Amused.
"Interesting," he murmured. "Didn't think that power would kick in yet."
"Stay away from me!" I gasped, trembling, eyes wide with panic.
He tilted his head. "You're scared. You should be."
Then he leaned in, voice soft. "Because next time, I won't miss."
And with that—he vanished.
---
I collapsed to the floor.
Tears burned behind my eyes.
He was going to kill me.
He wasn't teasing anymore. He meant it.
But more than that…
He knew something.
Something Adam hadn't told me.
Something important.
---
That night, I didn't sleep.
Adam came to my room once, knocked softly. I didn't answer.
He waited a while, then walked away.
I sat on the floor all night—shaking, afraid to close my eyes.
And when morning came, I was different.
---
The peace was over.
The story was shifting.
And Marcus?
He wasn't just chaos anymore.
He was war.
And I hate him but quite fond of wars as I win.