Page 108 of The Devil's Canvas

Bella stares at him. “What are you even talking about?”

He glances her way, but his gaze slides past her. Fixed on something no one else can see.

“Calliope Arden was never meant to hold power like that,” he says, voice almost reverent. “She wasn’t obedient. She was erratic. Dangerous. And when I learned what she was—what she carried—”

He smiles. Too wide. Too pleased.

“I ended it.”

The reaction is instant.

Rosalind lets out a tiny gasp, a hand flying to her mouth. Bella’s breath catches. Melanie stiffens.

“You… killed her?” Rosalind asks, barely able to form the words.

“She was the Weaver,” Cassius says flatly. “And she refused to give it to me. So I made sure it passed somewhere else.”

“Passed what?” Bella snaps. “What are you even talking about?”

“The Loom,” he says, like it should be obvious. “Fate. It needed guidance. And I found someone worthy. Someone who could use it with me.”

He nods toward Melanie.

“Together, we could’ve shaped everything. Power. Legacy. Destiny.”

Melanie’s voice trembles. “You said it was just about building my career. About control over… image.”

He doesn’t even look at her.

“She was interfering,” he says. “Ophelia was never supposed to be part of it. She threw off the balance. So I corrected that, too.”

A long beat.

Rhys speaks. Calm. Cold. “You sound insane.”

Cassius turns, but Rhys doesn’t flinch.

Dominic shakes his head slowly. “You expect us to believe all this?” he says. “A Loom of fate? Magic threads? That you… what—rewrote the universe because your wife didn’t listen to you?”

“You don’t get it,” Cassius says, louder now. “This was never about magic. It was about order. We had a chance to—”

“To what?” Dominic cuts in. “Destroy anyone who didn’t fall in line?”

Melanie’s expression is unreadable. But she moves again. Just one step further away from him.

Even Rosalind’s voice hardens. “You sound delusional.”

Cassius laughs. But it’s brittle. Cracked.

Enough is enough.

I step through the veil and land in front of them—right in the clearing, where the air cracks like it’s been holding its breath too long.

One second, I’m hidden. Next, I’m there.

Magic coils off me in waves, heat shimmering through the grass as the bond settles. Bella gasps. Rosalind lets out a cry, stumbling backward as her hand flies to her chest. Melanie screams like she’s seen a ghost.

Cassius freezes, lips parting—but no sound comes.

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