Page 72 of House of Darkness
I willed my lips to curve. It felt unnatural, but I had to try. “I told you. You’re safe now.”
“Safe,” she echoed, staring beyond me at the windows. “It’s so bright here.”
My vision blurred, tears threatening to spill. “It is. There are windows throughout the castle. You’ll never be kept in darkness again.”
She nodded, distracted. Charlotte spoke next. “What are we supposed to do now?”
Even now, I was surprised by her clarity. Charlotte, with her tone and mannerisms of a highly intelligent woman, had suffered too. Small curls were already escaping the confines of her braid. Her dark skin concealed some of her bruises, but I could tell she was just as badly beaten as Solaris.
I looked to Isabella for answers I knew she didn’t have. She merelyshrugged, defeated. I turned back to Charlotte, not bothering to feign a smile. There was no happiness here. “Whatever you want to do.”
Charlotte studied the backs of her hands, placed neatly on the table. “I lived with Codran for eight years. That’s all I know. I don’t even know where my children are.”
Before I could respond, her chocolate eyes locked onto mine, burning with enough intensity to leave mere embers in my gut. “It’s interesting how we endured so much, and now we’re safe and expected to move on as if it never happened. What would you do?”
I felt so incredibly small. She had endured that basement for eight years; I had barely managed a week. “I don’t know,” I admitted.
Catina placed her hand on the back of Solaris’ chair, throwing my sister a brief glance before locking eyes with Charlotte. “I’d find my children and take them back. I’d destroy every person who knew of my suffering and did nothing. Then I’d become as powerful as I could just to spite them.”
“That’s an interesting thought,” Charlotte replied.
I stared at Catina for a few moments, my eyes wide, then turned back to Charlotte. “Whatever you want to do, I will help you in any way I can.”
I meant it. My horrors were just a drop in the bucket compared to the countless girls who had suffered. Their cries for help had fallen on deaf ears for centuries. No more. A fire raged behind my eyes, drying my unshed tears. There would be no more crying—only fury.
I stood. There was work to be done.
I closed the door, only to hear it click open once more. I spun around to find Catina leaning against the frame. My venomous words spilled out with little resistance. “If you hurt my sister, I’ll make it my life’s mission to end you.”
Catina looked taken aback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not an idiot. I saw how you were looking at her. What happened to acolytes not being worth a damn? Why do you even care?”
Her eyes narrowed, and my heart skipped. I hated that she could sense my fear. “I never said that.”
“Pretty sure that’s what you insinuated when you decided to knock me down a few pegs before you even knew me.”
“If you think that, then you clearly weren’t listening,” she snarled, stepping closer. She was only a few inches taller than me, but she made me feel small.
“Oh, I was listening. ‘Acolytes are made for one purpose and one purpose only’—that’s what you said.”
She gestured to the closed door behind us. “Are they not? Look at what happened to those girls. This whole fucked-up system is designed to take innocent girls like Solaris and force them into slavery. I was trying to protect you, just like I wish I could’ve protected them!”
She took a steadying breath. “I sympathize with you because I’ve endured it. I was a human, betrothed, only to be assaulted by that same man and left in the street to die. All I wanted was a happy life with a husband and children, but now I’m here because a man decided what he could and couldn’t do with my body. I didn’t want that to happen to you. I’m sorry if that makes me a bitch, but I’m not going to change.”
I stared at her in silence. My first instinct was to apologize for all she had endured, but she didn’t want that. Hell, I hadn’t wanted that. Every time someone said it, it felt like a blow to the gut. I looked at the floor. “Thanks for helping them.”
Catina glanced longingly at the door behind her. “It’s not enough. It never is.”
“What do you think would be enough?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d do anything to help them, but it’smore than just safety. It’s like they need to relearn how to be people.”
Just like I had when I moved in. Every experience had felt like that of a child discovering the world for the first time. Having skills had been my saving grace, alongside my new family’s support. My goals had given me something to hold onto.
“What if I opened a craft shop? It could teach rescued acolytes skills, build community, and provide a safe space for them to earn money.”
“That’s not a bad idea. Isabella works with volunteer groups that do something similar… I could help you. Together we could do it,” Catina said thoughtfully.
