Page 7 of Branded By Shadow
His logic was a twisted, impossible knot. The sheer, infuriating hypocrisy of it was the only thing my mind could cling to. “By kidnapping me yourself?”
“He would’ve forced you to work with House Zeus.” He shrugged, something cold flashing across his face. “He’d already convinced you he cared about your research. About helping Omegas. By the time you figured out the truth, you’d already be bonded to him.”
The memory of Alexander’s perfect smile made my stomach turn. How genuine he’d seemed. How his concern for my work had felt so sincere. How much I’d wanted to believe someone finally understood what I’d been trying to do.
I’d been so leery in the beginning, but with every word that had fallen from his mouth, that had changed. I’d actually started to trust him. But it had been a lie.
“Why do either of you even care?” I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to project a confidence I didn’t feel. “I’m just a researcher with a formula.”
“Don’t diminish your work, Dr. Ellis. The formula is a breakthrough.” He took a deliberate step closer. “But you’re asking the wrong question. It’s notwhatyou created, buthow. How does one researcher succeed with a plant that has failedeveryone else for centuries?” He let the question hang in the air before answering it himself. “Stormwright knows the answer, the same as I do. The formula works because you made it. Because of your blood. House Demeter.”
Wait, what? What in Eurydice’s name was he talking about? It was true that I’d grown up in an orphanage, and had never known my parents. But that meant nothing. I was just your regular, run-of-the-mill human. An Omega, yes, one who struggled with irregular cycles. But nothing beyond that.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “That’s absurd. Look at me. I’m a normal person.”
His lips twisted into a small smile, and my laughter died in my throat. “Oh, believe me. I’m looking. And there’s nothing about you that’s normal.”
I gripped the bed frame so tightly I was surprised it didn’t splinter in my hand. “What do you mean?”
“Your plants respond to you differently than anyone else. Nobody gets your results no matter how hard they try to replicate your methods.”
I had no idea how he knew that, but he was right. My specimens had always grown faster under my care. They produced compounds my colleagues couldn’t match even when they followed my advice. Even when they did everything I did.
There had been others who’d tried to use silphium in medicine before. It had never worked, not for them.
I’d spent years telling myself it was superior technique. Patience. Understanding nuances previous researchers had missed. That I was just better at paying attention to what plants needed. Could I have been wrong?
“Every Omega in House Demeter has always had a strong connection to plant life,” Blackwood pointed out, sensing his advantage. “Just like you do.”
I shook my head, refusing to even look at him. “You’re delusional. No.”
But fear clawed through my chest that he might be right. That everything I’d built my career on wasn’t really mine. That every achievement was built on something I’d refused to acknowledge. That I’d been lying to myself for years about what I was and what I could do.
Every paper I’d published. Every presentation I’d given. Every late night in the lab perfecting cultivation techniques when I should’ve been sleeping. All of it built on a foundation I’d deliberately ignored. Could it be?
“If I were House Demeter, I would know,” I croaked out, hating myself for sounding even weaker than before.
“Not if you were a dormant Olympian.” Blackwood’s full lips twisted into a predatory smile. “It’s rare, but it does happen.”
I’d heard of such cases, but honestly, I’d deemed them practically fairytales. Or at the very least, something that would never happen to me. And yet…
“You don’t have to believe me on my word,” Blackwood drawled, almost seeming to revel in my turmoil. “Look.”
He pointed to the side, and I turned, following his gaze. That was when it happened. The small fern on the side table suddenly shot toward me. Inches of leaves unfurled in seconds instead of weeks. Roots visibly expanded beneath the soil, violating every principle of botanical growth I’d ever studied.
The room tilted sideways, my understanding of reality shattering completely. But Blackwood didn’t care.
“That’s you doing that.” He was no longer paying the plant any heed. Instead, he kept his focus entirely on me. “Your emotional state triggering abilities you’ve been suppressing your whole life.”
The fern kept reaching for me. When he moved between us, it curled away from his shadow. It stretched toward me again the moment he shifted position.
“Your formula works because you’ve been communicating with plants on a level you don’t understand.” Blackwood took another step closer and I had nowhere left to retreat. “That’s why nobody can replicate what you do.”
“This isn’t real.” I barely forced the words past my constricted throat. “It’s not possible.”
“Oh, believe me, it is.” His gaze held mine, merciless and vicious. “The Olympian Houses know who you are now. House Demeter Omegas are valuable and rare. There’s no going back. You just have to accept it, Cora.”
Cora.The sound of my name on his lips echoed too loudly in the cavernous suite. It was just a word, hardly anything compared to everything he’d done to me so far. It was the final straw.
