Page 47 of The Devil's Canvas

I straighten slightly. "What do you mean?"

Theron rests an elbow on the arm of his chair, watching me. "Your bond should be like a slow-burning fire, right? Controlled. Gradual. Except yours? Someone doused it in gasoline and lit a match."

"Great. Super helpful. Thanks."

Selene ignores my sarcasm. "Julian is feeling the full weight of it, more than you are. Probably because—" she waves a hand in my direction, as if gesturing to my entire existence "—you’re resisting."

I scoff. "So what, this is my fault? He’s turning into a possessive psychopath because I’m not swooning into his arms?"

Theron grins, clearly enjoying this too much. "Not yourfault, exactly. But let’s just say, the more you fight, the worse it gets for him."

I exhale sharply, resisting the urge to throw something at his smirking face.

Selene tilts her head slightly. "You feel it too, don’t you? The way it’s pulling, the way it’s waiting for you to make a choice."

My fingers twitch at my sides, my breath feeling just a little too uneven.

"And if I don’t?"

"You’ll keep fighting it. He’ll keep feeling it. And eventually?" Theron shrugs. "Something’s going to break."

Theron’s words settle in the air between us, thick and unshakable.Something’s gonna break.I hate how much sense that makes.

Before I can push back, Selene exhales through her nose, a quiet, knowing sound that immediately puts me on edge. She shifts slightly, brushing a stray curl behind her ear, adjusting the stack of rings on her fingers like she’s working up to something.

"That’s not the only thing we need to talk about."

I blink, stomach twisting at the sudden shift in her tone. "What now?"

Selene leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, silver eyes meeting mine without hesitation. "Your family."

My fingers twitch, curling against my thigh. "What about them?"

Theron snorts, shaking his head. "Oh, come on. You had to know this was coming. It’s not just Melanie running her mouth on national television. It’s your entire bloodline, sweetheart."

Selene hums, tapping a ring against the arm of her chair. "Cassius Arden. Your father. The real question is: how much doyouknow about him?"

I scoff, rolling my shoulders back. "Enough to know I don’t care."

Theron smirks. "That’s the thing about Cassius. Even when you don’t care, he still finds a way to make himselfveryrelevant."

I clench my jaw, refusing to rise to whatever bait they’re dangling. "I know what I need to. He’s a businessman, he’s powerful, and he only cares about himself. There. Covered it."

Selene watches me too carefully. "And Calliope?"

The name hits like ice water down my spine. My stomach twists, my nails digging into my palms before I can stop them.

"She’s dead," I say, voice tight. "Not much else to say."

Theron exhales dramatically, shaking his head. "See, that’s what Iwashoping you’d say. But it’s not true, is it? There’s plenty to say about Calliope Arden—if you ever bothered to listen."

A slow ache blooms in my chest, the kind that never really goes away, the kind that lingers no matter how much time has passed. I should be used to it by now.

I wanted to listen. I wanted to know her.

But she died before I ever really got the chance.

"I don’t need a history lesson," I snap.

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