"Rayth, I need to speak with you," Ambrosia said before leaving with all of the elegance with which she came. She did not bother giving one more glance to the mother-daughter pair on her way out.
Rayth heard his mother, but he stayed hovering over Cora and glaring at his brother who was still staring him down with those black veined eyes—the kind that had been emptied of all care. If he could, Grayson would have killed him already. That was what those eyes meant. Rayth was already dead to him.
But they both knew that it did not matter. Rayth was the favorite of Ambrosia and he always would be. He jutted his chin out and offered his brother a crooked smile before he leaned in next to Cora.
"I will see you later, my darling. Behave."
Cora squeezed her eyes shut against the venom of his voice and curled her fingers into fists against the table. Was this nightmare really her life?
