Page 31 of Twisted Ties
“Forbidden? By whom?”
“His father. In fact, he’s forbidden my entire family.”
“And your family just obeys everything he says?”
“Christopher Kennedy’s word is law,” I say. “If he says they can’t talk to you, they won’t.”
“Including you?” she snaps at Azlan.
“If you may have noticed, sweetheart, Azlan doesn’t exactly pay attention to what his family wants. If he did, he would have let you die.”
She ponders on this for a moment, the thoughts swirling so quickly in her mind, I find it impossible to follow them.
“You’re the authorities’ enforcer–”
“Not what my family wanted for me. A path I chose.”
“Why?”
“I don’t believe in nepotism. What we make of ourselves shouldn’t be dependent on our family name, on our relations or on our bloodline.”
She chews on her thumb. “And they don’t approve of me, I suppose?”
I scoff. “Rhianna Blackwaters you have no family, no real talents, and no abilities. Only a pig and a serious lack of clothes.”
“Phoenix,” Azlan warns.
“I assume it’s what your uncle said.”
He doesn’t respond.
“I’m not a nobody,” the girl says, sliding off the counterand landing on her feet like a cat. “I’m my aunt’s niece. And maybe I didn’t spend years and years going to fancy schools like the two of you. But I’m learning every day. Which is why I’m going back to the academy.”
An image of that mark on a man’s torso flickers through her mind again and I catch her eye.
“You have powers, Rhianna Blackwaters. Powers a girl like you shouldn’t possess.” Azlan’s gaze flicks to mine. “But who are you? Let me open those memories and–”
“I’m not letting you anywhere near my mind,” she snaps, striding from the room, her little pig jumping up from her bed and trotting after her.
Or any other part of me,she says loudly in her head, and I try not to let my gaze trail down those bare thighs of hers.
“What powers?” Azlan says, when she’s out of earshot.
11
Rhi
“You wantto go back to the academy?”
I’m lying on his bed, tickling Pip’s ears. He glares at the pig. He’s already told me countless times: no pets on the bed.
“Yes, and I don’t want you to try and persuade me to–”
“I think it’s for the best.”
Although I’ve convinced myself this is what I need to do, my stomach drops with disappointment, a feeling I know he can discern through the bond. I try my best to disguise it.
“Something we agree on at last.” I manage a smile, one I doubt is convincing.
