“Get the fuck out of here,” she hisses like I’m an animal, a raccoon messing with her garbage.
“Not before I get some answers,” I push the door back until it hits the wall behind it, “dear mother.”
My heart pitter-patters inside my chest, beating so fast all I hear is its hum in my ears. There’s me, and Mother’s shocked face, and the house in semi-darkness. Even the men behind me, those who were my safeguard, disappear as this moment looms over me.
Mother steps inside the living room. I follow her. She bares her teeth. “Are you insane? Not only a murderer,” she hisses the word like it’s a poison, like it burns on the way out, “but insane?”
“If there’s insanity in me,” I shove an ottoman out of the way, prowling closer, “it’s because of you. It’s because you left me behind in that place and never cared to go back for me. What kind of person does that? What kind of mother abandons a child in a place like that?”
“Stop saying nonsense!” she roars, and I can only describe it as a roar. The house seems to tremble around me, but it might be my imagination. It might be how hard my heart is slamming against my chest, shaking my very bones. “You were never my problem, to begin with. I did far more than was expected of me, and you have no right to come barging in and say these things.”
“No right?” I scoff. A smile, a cruel smile dances across my lips. “No right? If there’s anyone in the world who has the right to confront you for your sins, Mother, that is me.”
“Stop.” Her voice comes out a hiss, like a gigantic snake, and this time even my throat constricts. I stop talking, my eyes watering with rage or disappointment. I don’t know, and I don’t want to look into it right now. Her eyes gaze into mine, gray, gray orbs so different from my dark ones. She takes in a deep breath, and the constriction abates.
My body shivers with pent-up rage and so many emotions fighting inside me. I’m a powder keg waiting to explode. And I feel it. I feel my power trying to escape me, dancing from the tips of my fingers. Cold trickling down my veins, calling for the darkness around.
Mother raises her chin, looking at me from above her nose like I’m nothing more than a rat caught in her trap. “For the last time, you freak.” The word pierces through me like a knife. Like a dagger, sharpened to hurt me. I wince, and the tears welling on my lower lashes are from pain. “I am not your mother.”
CHAPTER27
CASSANDRA
Who would think words can make you bleed? The pain of yet another rejection grips at my heart like a fist, squeezing the organ until I gasp out of air, vision blurred in pain. There’s only the sound of my thrumming pulse in my ears, the shock of her words sinking into my stomach like lead. Hands embrace my shoulders, pulling me back, and I lift my gaze to see Apollo tucking me behind him, like a wounded animal, like a bird with broken wings.
And even though the news come as a shock, there’s something these men should know about me: my wings have been broken for many years now. I pull air in and move around Apollo. He doesn’t need to protect me from the truth. I wanted it. That’s why I came here, after all. I find Not-Mother’s gray eyes and stare at them.
“Explain.” The word hisses out of me, and the living room quiets. The boys were about to create a hassle for me, but I didn’t want screams and hair-pulling. “I want the truth. All of it.”
Her expression doesn’t falter. She’s marble, an ice statue glaring at me. “You should leave.”
“Not without the truth,” I insist, stepping closer, and the shadows seem to move with me. Her gaze shoots around me for a second, and I watch her throat bob. Afraid of me, is she? She should be because I’m not leaving.
“I met your mother at the Academy. All I did was her bidding.”
“Where is she?” And even before she answers, the pregnant silence between us already holds the painful truth.
“Dead. I told her she’d end up in a grave if she got mixed with your father. She never listened to me.” She shrugs like we’re agreeing about disagreeing on the best coffee in town, not about the death of my mother. Every word that leaves her lips is a bucket of cold water down my spine, over and over until my limbs are numb. “You don’t remember?”
I blink. “Remember what?”
“The day it happened. You three lived here, in the edge of town, amid the trees.” She curls her nose. “Away from us, of course. No one wanted to get mixed with your father. His magic... was not natural. He brought bad luck.”
I scoff, my throat dry and rasping. “Bad luck. So my father was a black cat or something?”
Not even a muscle on her face moves. What a surprise she doesn’t admire my sense of humor. “I see you lack any sort of sense. After killing the first Light Mage in centuries, I’m not surprised you’re mad.”
“Fucking hell, woman,” Apollo growls from next to me, his rage coming off him in waves. It makes my heart beat even faster, and the cold in my veins trickles to my fingers.
“What happened?” I press. “You said ‘the day it happened.' What do you mean?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and grips the gem hanging around her neck, seeming bored with the exchange, but I see how white her knuckles have turned. “Someone attacked the house. I don’t know who, and I don’t care, but we had to go since they were in coven lands. We could see the flames from anywhere in the city. When we arrived, both were dead, and you were hiding in an underground room.”
I let the words sink in. Someone attacked my parents, and I don’t know if my father was mixed up with rotten stuff or if it’s just this woman being a bitch. If I was hidden, my parents put me away to guarantee my safety.
“Then you took me to the orphanage,” I theorize, meeting her gaze. She nods once. Now it makes sense why she looked at me with disgust, with abhorrence. Not that she was my mother and was abandoning me. She’s nothing to me. I’ve just been alone ever since. My mind wanders to all the years I dreamed of facing off with my mother. Asking her the reasons behind her actions.
It’s all meaningless now.