Chapter 7 Sister, Enemy

• [XENA]
• I wonder whether we’ll reach my parents’ keep first… or if my body will give out before we do.
• The carriage rattles nonstop on the road to Crescent Ash Pack. Four hours of jolts and bumps, and every one of them sends a sharp bolt of pain tearing through my ribs. Cassian sits across from me with his arms folded, staring out the window as if the woman hurting silently in front of him is nothing more than an object cluttering his view.
• I keep my eyes on the parted curtain. The road blurs by. I bite my lip until I taste blood. A small, pathetic part of me wishes he would at least ask if I need to rest, if I want to stay behind because of my injuries.
• But instead, all he said earlier was, “If you weren’t so careless, you wouldn’t be hurt. Stop whining, Xena. It’s annoying.”
• That was all I was worth.
• When the carriage finally stops outside Crescent Ash’s keep, I exhale shakily. Cassian steps out first; I follow, gripping the door frame so my knees don’t buckle.
• Aurelia, my stepmother, greets Cassian warmly, her painted lips pulled into a broad smile. Axel stands beside her, hands clasped behind his back. But as soon as Aurelia’s gaze slides to me, her smile drops.
• “Where is your ceremonial cloak?” she snaps.
• Cassian turns toward me sharply, noticing for the first time that I’m not wearing it. A Luna must always wear her ceremonial cloak when traveling—especially when arriving at another Alpha’s estate. It is a symbol of marriage, of claim, of honor.
• I tighten the plain cloak around myself, hiding the bandages underneath. “I gave it to a beggar—an old woman,” I say quietly. “At a temple. She was getting drenched.”
• Aurelia gasps, scandalized. “A ceremonial cloak? You gave a ceremonial cloak to a beggar?”
• I flinch before I can stop myself. Five years away from this household, and yet Aurelia’s voice still hits me like a slap. I almost expect her hand to follow next. My shoulders recoil instinctively.
• Somehow, she restrains herself. “What a disappointment,” she mutters. “Always doing something shameful.”
• Axel sighs and shakes his head. Cassian watches me like he’s seeing me for the first time.
• Before the humiliation can continue further, my stepfather, the Alpha, steps forward.
• “Enough. Come inside,” he says, turning his back
• He doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t acknowledge me. Not even a nod.
• I swallow the sting. I’m used to it.
• ***
• Davina sits in front of the Moon Goddess’s idol when we enter the hall. Her posture is perfect. Regal. Light from the stained glass frames her like she’s been carved into the world by divine hands.
• She turns, and I see Cassian’s breath catch.
• Of course it does.
• From her posture, I can tell she sees it too—the way his gaze softens, the way he looks at her as if she is the only thing in the room. How could I have been so blind?
• Davina rises slowly, letting her hips sway just a bit more than usual. Her Guild uniform glows in the candlelight—and it’s cut far lower than any approved design I’ve ever seen. She knew exactly what she was doing when she dressed for him.
• “Alpha Cassian,” she purrs, bowing deeply.
• I shrug off my cloak. The warmth of the room makes every inch of my skin ache under the bandages. Davina’s eyes flick to me, and the mock pity on her face appears instantly.
• “Oh, Xena,” she murmurs, tilting her head. “Dear sister, what happened to you? You’re hurt.”
• Before I can back away, she pulls me into an embrace.
• My body stiffens. Davina never touches me—not since the night I lost Vera. Now I know why. Because she caused it. Because she nearly killed me.
• Her arms tighten around me. One hand pats my back, gentle as silk. The other presses directly into my burn wound.
• Fire erupts through my ribs. I gasp, biting my tongue to silence the cry rising in my throat.
• “Oh, poor thing,” she whispers sweetly near my ear, while digging her fingers in deeper.
• My vision blurs. I can barely breathe. I can’t endure it another second.
• My hand moves on instinct. I pull my dagger and slice across her waist.
• Davina yelps, stumbling back dramatically. Cassian lunges for her immediately—for her, not me—catching her before she hits the ground and holding her like she’s made of glass.
• Blood stains her white robe, though the wound seals almost instantly thanks to her wolf. Still, Cassian lifts her into his arms and carries her to a bench, placing her down with ridiculous tenderness.
• Everyone around us stares in silent awe.
• Aurelia rushes to Davina. “Are you alright, dear?”
• Davina nods weakly, face twisting like she’s in unbearable pain. “Xena’s dagger… it slipped. It poked me.”
• Before I can protest, a slap cracks across my face so hard it sends me to the floor. My lip splits open.
• Cassian gasps but doesn’t move. He stays beside Davina, glued to her side, not even sparing me a hand.
• “You should be more careful,” Aurelia hisses.
• I stay on the ground, palms pressed to the cold stone. My head hangs low.
• The humiliation burns hotter than my wounds. And the anger swelling inside me feels large enough to swallow the continent whole.
• A hand appears in front of me—Axel’s. His jaw is tight, eyes averted. He’s only offering it to end the scene—to stop the crowd’s entertainment.
• That hurts more than the slap.
• I ignore his hand and stand on my own.
• “Ungrateful,” my father sneers.
• Aurelia shakes her head. “Always needing attention. Even on your father’s name day. Pathetic.”
• It’s too much. Too loud and too humiliating.
• I turn and walk away. No one calls after me. No one follows.
• ***
• The corridors blur as I move through them. My body aches. My ribs scream. I just want to be anywhere but here.
• What can you do? You’re powerless, a voice hisses in my head.
• I wipe my tears and head toward an old trapdoor hidden behind a pillar. I pull it open, ignoring the sharp throb in my stomach as I descend.
• The tunnels are dark, cramped, but they are mine. I memorized them as a child—back when I used them to escape Davina’s cruelties.
• My feet find the correct path easily.
• When I lift the trapdoor on the other side, fresh forest air fills my lungs. The soft sound of a trickling stream calms me instantly. I walk to the lake—the place where I used to hide long before my life fell apart.
• A stag steps from between the trees, as if summoned by my memory. It approaches without fear. I touch its face and smile weakly.
• “Did you miss me?” I whisper.
• I sit beside the water. The stag stands guard.
• Peace settles into my bones… until the rustling of leaves shatters it.
• I rise quickly and press myself behind a wide tree trunk, peeking toward the sound.
• A grand carriage pulls up near the lake. A young boy—maybe six or seven—steps out. Two cloaked men follow him. Protectors, clearly. One kneels by the water, pressing his palm against the surface.
• The water parts beneath his touch, rippling in a strange, unnatural way.
• My breath catches.
• Before I can grasp what I’m seeing, the other man calls him back. I don’t catch the name uttered. But when he rises and turns, the light catches his wrist.
• A mark glows faintly beneath the cloak.
• The wolf head.
• My heart slams against my ribs.
• It’s him. The stranger from the temple. The man with the impossible presence.
• And now he’s here.