Page 42 of Silent Oaths
Daysbefore getting locked in the basement,Ioverheard them talking just outside my door.TheythoughtIwas asleep, butI’velearned to stay quiet.
“Sheburned it to the ground,” one of them said.Ithink it wasMaxwell; his voice held an edge of amusement that felt out of place. “Theold mansion, gone.Poof.”
Ihad frowned in the dark, straining to catch more.Whohad burned it?They’dmoved on to other plans, something about shifting power, butIcouldn’t focus on their words after that.
Mymind kept circling back to that one sentence.Sheburned it to the ground.
Atthe time,Ididn’t know who they meant.ButwhenTheodoretold meValeriaandCamilawere responsible forLionel’sdeath, it all made sense.
Ofcourse, it was her.
Asmile tugs at my lips.Thatfire hasValeria’sfingerprints all over it.Shehas always been reckless, willing to do whatever it takes to strike back against people likethem.
IwishIcould have seen the old, oppressive mansion collapsing in on itself, reduced to nothing but ash and rubble.
Isit back down on the edge of the bed, bouncing my knee as my thoughts race.
Mysmile fades almost as quickly as it appeared.Imiss her.
Valeria, where are you?
Iknow she’s still out there, looking for me.Shehas to be.
Asound outside my room pulls me out of my thoughts.Oneof them is coming.
Iscramble back on the bed, pressing myself against the frame as the knob turns.
Idon’t know which brother it will be this time, but it doesn’t matter.
Thedoor creaks open, andIwhip my head toward it.Julianstrides in and tosses a towel at me.Itlands in a heap on the bed as he chucks a small bag.Itbounces once before coming to a rest next to my leg.
Istare at it, then up at him, narrowing my eyes. “What’sthis?”
Hecrosses his arms, his face giving nothing away. “Ithought you’d want a shower.”
Isnort, shaking my head. “No,Imean, what’sinthe bag?”
Hisjaw tenses slightly, but he doesn’t answer right away.Curious,Ireach for it.Inside,Ifind an assortment of—oh.
Oh.
Myface heats up immediately asIpull out a box of tampons and a pack of pads, followed by a little bottle of painkillers and a heating pad.
Ilook up at him, deadpan. “Seriously?”
Heshifts awkwardly, his usual unflappable demeanor cracking just a little. “You’vebeen here for a month,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck. “Ifigured you’d need some of that stuff soon.”
Iblink at him, trying to process what’s happening.Outof all the thingsIexpected, this wasn’t one of them.Fora moment,I’mcaught between wanting to laugh and wanting to tell him to fuck off.It’soddly thoughtful, but also so unbelievably awkward.Idon’t know how to respond.
Julianavoids my gaze, his hands stuffed into his pockets, as if he’s already regretting the gesture.There’ssomething endearing about how uncomfortable he looks, butIsquash the thought before it takes root.Idon’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he did something sweet, even if—well, maybe he has.
Outof all the brothers,Julianseems to be the one who’s the most… human.Themost caring, even.Butsomehow, he also gets the worst of my attitude.Probablybecause he’s always the one hovering and checking on me likeI’msome fragile thing about to break.
Myfingers tighten around the bag as a realization hits me like a freight train.I’vebeen here for a month.
Amonth.
Thirtydays of being trapped in this gilded cage, at the mercy of these men and their cryptic motives.
