Page 12 of Hound

“Why?” No one in our society paid mind to Sylvester, especially those of the highest standing. Yet, it was still of importance to be conscious of our relationship with him since harboring a slight connection with someone as scandalous as him was scorned upon. Though it would have no impact on my name, it carried enough weight to destroy Anabella’s.

The Sephtises had long been condemned and high-powered, growing greater after That Man’s position as Premier. The Ambrogios, however, were held to a particular light of immortalized resilience, as Anabella’s father, the head of the Ambrogio family and Secretary of the Ministry, was second in command after the Premier.

“There’s whispers of his correlation to the Mubaraks’ disappearance.” Her tone lowered. “They say he’s behind it.”

“How is that possible?”

“I’m not sure. But Christopher,” her whispered words reduced at each one as she closed the gap between us, skin to skin, and continued, “when I arrived here today, I discovered this in my accustomed domain.”

Slender fingers reached into a hidden pocket at her hip and retrieved a pale envelope, familiar black letters encompassing the front. The lines and curves were sloppy, illegible. But only one individual had that handwriting.

“That’s Mal’s.”

She nodded. “And it’s addressed to you.”

Silence deafened my surroundings, the sudden shift in the air bringing focus to the envelope in my hands.

“Why?”

“I-I don’t know.” Anabella stared at it with the same bewilderment emitting from my gaze. They shook as she glanced at me. “But, Christopher, if what they say is true, then Mal’s disappearance might not be coincidental and neither is this invitation.”

Society believed secrecy wasn’t in Sylvester’s arsenal since he was a newsmonger and all. But after that night and the scene I witnessed. . .was it intentionally painted that way?

“If you accept this, you’ll sign your death away.”

Confusion tightened her features, however, not my own. This wasn’t an accident. It was orchestrated.

He knew I saw them.

My nostrils flared as I inhaled a sharp breath and pocketed the envelope, the weight of the matter settling in my muscles.

“Christopher,” she choked out, her tone clipped. “Listen, I lo?—”

“You know what occurs to those who share those words with me.”

My strained relationship with my brothers never equipped us to understand those three little words. Our mother had taughtus the dangers of such a phrase, never uttering them and staying true to her word.

“You must find someone who sees you as an equal and values you to your very core. Not your status or goods,”she’d said.“But never let love infiltrate such parameters, because once you do, everything will be wrecked. You will crumble like I did.”

The depths of Anabella’s eyes darkened as she cleared her throat and rested her frigid hands on my own. “I care about you. You have been my betrothed since birth, but my friend first and foremost. My happiness is yours if you desire, but I cannot see you digging your own grave.”

The distant echo of my mother’s voice burrowed into the void in my chest. In my youth, my mother’s words were a shadow that always hovered but never influenced—until she uttered those three words. The shadow of her touch and metal frames grazed my palms. That Christmas night, hope had flourished through celebrations, only to be crushed and disposed of when we’d returned to a manor where she had laid lifeless.

“I cannot dig into what was already framed for me.”

The commute back to the household hadn’t changed, each turn the same as from the departure. Why did the road suddenly seem to be endless underneath the depth of night? Why was the envelope which bore my name straining my pocket?

Neither Anabella nor I dared opening it to reveal the contents in such a public setting. But by not doing so, the responsibility of what Sylvester addressed to me now burdened my shoulders.

A hand traveled to it, but a cold device with a button met my touch.

“Investigate the mechanisms of this,” I said and placed it in Sonia’s palm once the limousine vanished from the inner gate and beyond the outer. “Report as soon as you uncover everything.”

“Is there anything of importance I should know regarding it?”

“Be sure to not press it.” Hesitancy itched in my fingertips. While Sylvester and I were not affected by it when he had activated the device, the man’s sudden shriek and paralysis was drastically polarizing. It wasn’t worth experimenting if half-humans were affected by it or not.

With a swift dismissal, Sonia bowed and faded into the darkness, toward my opposing direction. Still, I wasn’t alone.

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