The quiet of the library is almost suffocating. I've spent hours skimming through pages of folklore, history, and anything that could explain the symbol on the pendant. It's like searching for a needle in a haystack, but I can't stop. My fingers tremble as I turn the pages, hoping something, anything, will jump out at me and make sense of everything that's happening.
The pendant burns faintly in my pocket, its warmth a constant reminder that the answers I'm looking for aren't just on these pages. They're inside me, buried deep, and no amount of research will uncover them until I'm ready.
I hear the door of the library open, but I don't turn around. I know who it is before he says a word.
"Still here, huh?" Justin's voice cuts through the silence.
I let out a small, frustrated breath. "What else am I supposed to do?"
"You could stop running from the truth," he says, a note of quiet persistence in his tone.
I finally turn to face him, surprised at how much I want to resist his gaze. It's that same pull—unexplainable, irresistible, and completely confusing. "What truth?" I snap. "You mean the truth about the Court? My parents? My fae heritage? You mean that truth?"
He doesn't flinch at my sharp tone. Instead, he steps closer, his eyes softening.
"I'm not trying to make this harder, Sarah. I'm just trying to help you see things clearly. But you can't keep shutting everyone out."
I cross my arms, shifting my weight. "Help? How, exactly? You're not telling me everything, Justin. You're always hovering, always offering help, but it doesn't feel like it's for me. It feels like you're just trying to control the situation."
There's a pause. I can see it in his eyes—an almost imperceptible flicker of guilt. But it's quickly gone, replaced by that unwavering determination. "You think I'm controlling you? I'm trying to protect you. You're in the middle of something bigger than both of us. And I can't just sit by and let you handle it alone."
I shake my head, the frustration bubbling to the surface. "I don't want your protection. I want to know what's happening. I want to know what my parents were hiding from me, why I'm being followed, why every time I think I'm close to the truth, someone or something makes sure I don't get there."
I can feel the heat of his gaze, but instead of stepping away, he leans in slightly, his eyes searching mine. "I want to help you find those answers. I don't want to keep anything from you. But there's only so much I can tell you right now."
The weight of his words hangs between us, and for a moment, I'm caught between wanting to believe him and the harsh reality that I don't fully trust him. There's so much I still don't understand.
"Why can't you just tell me everything?" I ask, the question raw. "Why can't you just—" I cut myself off, my throat tightening.
He sighs, his hand running through his hair. "I wish I could. But it's not that simple. You're not just some bystander in this. You're part of it. The Court, the pendant... your parents—everything is tied to you. And I'm not sure if you're ready for all of it."
I stand there, heart pounding in my chest. "I'm not ready? I'm the one who's been kept in the dark my entire life. I don't even know who I am, Justin."
"You're more than you think," he says softly, stepping even closer now, his presence overwhelming. "You have power, Sarah. Power that you don't even understand yet. And I'm trying to help you learn to control it before it controls you."
His words hang in the air like a challenge. I want to argue, to push him away, but there's something in his voice—something that makes me wonder if he's right. If I do have power I can't control.
"I can't do this alone," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need you to trust me, even just a little."
I swallow hard. There's a part of me that wants to. But I can't ignore the warning bells ringing in my mind. The man who helped me find the pendant. The warnings from my parents. The strange pull toward Justin that makes it impossible to push him away completely.
"I don't know how to trust you," I say finally, my voice low.
Justin takes another step closer, his face inches from mine now. "Then let me prove it to you."
For a moment, I can't breathe. His gaze holds mine, intense and full of unspoken words. The distance between us is smaller than ever, and I feel the weight of his presence, of everything he's offering, but also everything I'm afraid of.
"I can't just—" I start to pull away, but before I can finish, there's a noise—a soft click of the door behind me.
I turn, heart racing. Standing in the doorway is the man—the one who helped me find the second pendant. He's watching us, his expression unreadable.
"Am I interrupting?" he asks, his voice calm but measured.
Justin's posture shifts immediately, his body going rigid. "Who's this?" he asks, his tone sharp.
I stand, the chair scraping against the floor as I move between them. "He's… someone who's helped me before."
The man raises an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on Justin. "You didn't mention you had company."
Justin rises slowly, his movements deliberate. "I don't think we've met."
The man doesn't flinch, his gaze lingering on me for just a moment longer. "The Court is getting closer. You're not ready, Sarah, and neither of you is prepared for what comes next."
My heart skips a beat. The Court. The name sends a chill down my spine, reminding me of everything that's been hanging over me—everything I've yet to understand.
"You're wasting time," the man says before turning to leave, but his words linger in the air. "And time is something you no longer have."
********
The next day, the library is quiet—the kind of silence that presses down on you, making every small sound feel deafening. I've been here for hours, pouring over books that seem older than the town itself, looking for anything that might make sense of what's happening. The pendant in my pocket hums faintly, its warmth pulsing against my palm like a second heartbeat.
I flip through the brittle pages of another book on local folklore, but nothing stands out. Every passage feels like a dead end, vague references to myths and legends that don't help me piece together the reality I'm living in. Frustration bubbles to the surface, but I push it down. I can't give up.
A shadow passes over the doorway to the reading room, and I tense. My breath catches as I glance up, half-expecting to see the librarian. Instead, Justin steps into view, and my chest tightens.
"Thought I'd find you here," he says, his voice soft but steady. He leans against the doorframe, his dark eyes scanning the room before settling on me.
"Justin," I say, trying to ignore the way his presence always seems to shift the air around me. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugs, stepping further into the room. "I wanted to check on you. Make sure you're okay after yesterday."
I close the book in front of me, its pages suddenly blurring under the weight of his gaze. "I'm fine. Just… trying to figure things out."
Justin pulls out the chair across from me, sitting down without waiting for an invitation. His movements are unhurried, but there's a tension in his shoulders he's trying to hide.
"You've been at this for hours," he says, his tone more careful now. "You need to take a break."
"I don't have time for breaks," I snap, the frustration in my chest spilling over. "Every time I think I'm getting closer to understanding all of this, something else gets in the way. I can't stop now."
Justin leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. "I get it. Believe me, I do. But running yourself into the ground isn't going to help you find the answers you're looking for."
His words soften something in me, and I hate that they do. He's always doing this—saying just enough to make me think he understands, to make me want to trust him. And maybe that's the scariest part.
"I don't know what I'm looking for," I admit, my voice quieter now. "I'm just trying to make sense of everything. My parents, the pendant, the Court… it's all connected, but I don't know how."
Justin reaches across the table, his hand stopping just short of mine. "You don't have to do this alone, Sarah. I'm here."
The weight of his words settles over me, and for a moment, I want to believe him. But before I can respond, the sound of footsteps echoes through the library, growing louder as they approach.
I glance toward the doorway just as the mystery man steps into view.
He looks the same as he did last night—dark coat, sharp eyes, and an air of quiet authority that makes the room feel smaller. His gaze flicks to Justin, and the tension in his jaw tightens just enough for me to notice.
"I see you're making friends," the man says, his voice calm but edged with something I can't name.
Justin's posture shifts immediately, his body going rigid. "Who the hell are you?"
The man doesn't respond right away, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he's weighing his next words. Finally, he looks at me. "I came to warn you, Sarah. The Court is moving faster than I anticipated. They know about the second pendant, and they know it's with you."
My breath catches, the room suddenly feeling colder. "How do they know?"
"I'm not sure," he says, his tone careful. "But if they're aware of its location, it won't be long before they come for it."
Justin steps closer, his voice low and edged with suspicion. "And how exactly do you know all of this?"
The man's gaze flicks to Justin, his expression unreadable. "Let's just say I've been keeping an eye on things."
"That's not an answer," Justin says, his voice hardening.
"Maybe not," the man replies smoothly. "But I'm not the one you should be worried about."
The tension between them is palpable, the air thick with unspoken accusations. I feel caught in the middle, the weight of the pendant in my pocket a constant reminder of how little I understand.
"Stop," I say, my voice cutting through the silence. "This isn't helping."
Both men turn to look at me, their expressions softening slightly, but the tension doesn't dissipate.
"What do I need to do?" I ask the man, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "If the Court is coming for me, how do I stop them?"
The man hesitates, his eyes darting to Justin again before he answers. "You need to understand the power you're carrying. The pendants aren't just a piece of your past—they are a key. And if the Court gets their hands on them…" He trails off, his meaning clear.
Justin steps forward, his voice hard. "That's enough."
The man holds his ground, his calm demeanor unshaken. "You can't protect her forever."
"And you think you can?" Justin counters, his voice rising.
"Stop it!" I snap, the tension between them unbearable. "Both of you."
The man sighs, stepping back. "Be careful of who you trust, Sarah. The Courts aren't the only ones with an agenda," he says, his tone softer now. "Don't let your emotions blind you. The people closest to you can be the most dangerous." He glances at Justin one last time before turning and disappearing into the stacks.
Justin turns to me, his face a mix of anger and concern. "Who was that?"
I hesitate, unsure of how to explain. "He… helped me before. When I..."
"And you trust him?" Justin's voice is sharp, his eyes searching mine.
"I don't know who to trust," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
Justin looks away, his jaw tight. "If he comes near you again, tell me."
"Why?" I ask, the question hanging heavily between us. "Why do you care so much, Justin?"
His gaze snaps back to mine, and for a moment, I think he might actually tell me. But instead, he shakes his head, his expression unreadable. "Just… be careful."
He turns and walks away, leaving me standing alone in the library, the weight of his words—and the man's warning—pressing down on me.
The door swings shut behind Justin, and I sit there for a moment, the silence of the library pressing down on me.
I know I should let it go—whatever's going on with Justin, the mystery man, all of it. But something about the way Justin stiffened when the man mentioned the Court… it gnaws at me.
He's hiding something.
And if he won't tell me, maybe it's time I find out for myself.
********
Gripping the pendants in my pocket, I push back from the table and hurry out the door, careful to keep my steps light as I follow him.
The night air is cold, biting at my skin as I step outside. Justin is already halfway down the street, his dark silhouette blending into the shadows. I keep my distance, moving quietly along the edge of the road.
I stay hidden behind the trees as Justin steps onto the porch. He hesitates, his head tilting slightly like he's listening for something. My breath catches, and I press myself against the trunk of the nearest tree, willing myself to be invisible.
Finally, he steps inside, the door creaking shut behind him.
I wait a beat, then another, before creeping closer. The shadows here feel heavier, thicker, like they're alive. Every crackle of leaves beneath my feet sends my heart racing, but I keep moving until I'm crouched just below one of the front windows.
The light inside flickers, and I hear voices now—low and muffled but growing louder as I press myself closer to the wall.
"Justin is too close to her," a man says, sharp and commanding. Charles. His voice cuts through the muffled tones like a blade. "He's not thinking clearly."
"We don't have time for this," a woman replies, her tone cool but laced with urgency. Scarlet. "The Court is already looking for her. If they find her before we do—"
"They won't," Charles snaps. "Not if we stick to the plan."
I strain to hear more, my fingers gripping the windowsill.
"She has the pendants," Scarlet says, her voice dropping lower. "And she has no idea what they're capable of. We need to act before she figures it out."
"And you think Justin can get them from her?"
There's a pause, the silence stretching out so long I almost think I've lost them. Then Charles speaks again.
"He's the only one she trusts. Or close enough to it."
My stomach twists, the weight of his words sinking in like a stone.
Scarlet sighs. "We don't have a choice, then. But if he fails…"
"He won't," Charles says firmly. "And we need to keep Natalia away from her. If she finds out—"
The rest of his sentence is cut off as a door creaks open, and I duck lower, my heart hammering in my chest.
Heavy footsteps echo near the window, and I hold my breath, praying they don't see me.
"You're back late," Charles says, his voice carrying through the open door.
"Had some things to take care of," Justin replies, his tone clipped.
I risk a glance through the window, just enough to see Justin standing in the doorway. His face is shadowed, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clench at his sides.
"Have you been keeping an eye on her?" Charles asks.
Justin hesitates, the silence stretching out painfully. "I'm doing what you asked," he says finally, his voice strained.
"You need to do more than that," Scarlet says sharply. "If the Court gets to her first—"
"I know," Justin snaps, cutting her off.
The silence that follows is suffocating, and I press myself tighter against the wall, willing myself to disappear.
"Don't forget where your loyalties lie," Charles says finally, his voice low and dangerous.
Justin doesn't respond. Instead, he steps deeper into the house, the door creaking shut behind him, leaving me alone in the dark.
I don't move for a long time, my mind racing with everything I just heard. The Court. The pendants. Justin…
And Natalia.
Why would they want to keep Natalia away from me?
The questions swirl in my head, but one thing is clear—I can't trust Justin. Not fully. Not yet.
I push myself to my feet, my legs shaking as I back away from the house. The shadows seem to press in closer as I turn and slip back into the trees, my heart pounding in my ears.
Whatever Justin's family is planning, I need to figure it out before it's too late.
And I can't do it alone.
********
The walk back home feels heavier tonight, the shadows stretching longer and the cold biting deeper. My thoughts race with everything I overheard at Justin's house—the Court, the pendants, Natalia. And Justin himself.
The house is quiet when I step inside, the kind of silence that almost feels alive. For a moment, I hesitate in the hallway, my hand lingering on the doorframe of Cassie's study. There's something pulling me toward it, a faint hum that seems to grow louder the closer I get.
The pendant in my pocket warms, and I take it out, staring at its intricate patterns. The heat feels steady, almost insistent.
I push open the door to the study, the faint creak of the hinges breaking the silence. The air inside feels colder, heavier. My eyes scan the room, landing on the journal I found earlier, still sitting open on the desk.
But it's not the journal that catches my attention now.
An envelope rests just beneath it, the edges worn and yellowed. My breath catches. The wax crest sealing it is the same as the one on the pendant—the same looping symbols, the same aura of power.
The pendant hums again, its warmth pulsing against my palm. My fingers tremble as I lift the journal and reach for the envelope underneath.
Sliding my finger beneath the seal, I pull out the letter inside. The paper is thick, the ink faded but still legible.
To: Cassiopeia,
Subject: Inquiry into Your Allegiance
Cassiopeia,
It has come to our attention that your involvement with Ryan Strigoi extends far beyond what was originally suspected. Your actions in aiding and concealing him have not gone unnoticed.
The High Court has issued charges of treason against Ryan and his brother, for their roles in the murder of the fae royals, Elara and Tristan Velarde. Such actions are an affront to the Court's laws and will not be tolerated. Their betrayal, coupled with your silence, places you in a precarious position.
Do not think for a moment that your sorceress status absolves you of responsibility. Should you continue to shield Ryan, you will face consequences befitting your involvement.
This is your final warning. The Court's reach is absolute, and justice will be served.
Signed,
Veiled Court of Lumindellar
The High Court of the Fae
The paper shakes in my hands, the words blurring as my mind tries to process what I'm reading.
Ryan. The man I thought of as my father. The man mom fell in love with.
My birth parents. Murdered.
Treason.
I lower the letter slowly, my breath coming in short gasps. Ryan and his brother killed my parents. And mom… she knew.
The pendant burns hotter now, like it's responding to my realization, and I clutch it tightly, the heat grounding me.
Cassie's involvement—whatever it was—ties her to this mess in ways I don't understand yet. And if the Court was willing to threaten her, what else would they be willing to do?
I fold the letter back into its envelope and shove it into my pocket. My hands tremble as I glance around the study, searching for anything else—another letter, a clue, something to explain who took Cassie. But the room offers nothing but shadows and unanswered questions.
I need to know more. About Ryan. About the Court. About my parents.
And I can't do it from here.