Page 134 of Demon's Beauty

If I refuse, she’ll consider that my resignation from priestesshood consideration.

My first instinct is to throw the letter in the fire and watch it burn.

My second is to read it again, and again, as if that will somehow make the words less awful.

I knew it was coming, but that doesn’t make the end of my brief taste of freedom any less bitter.

Marianne rises from her seat. “I won’t ask if you’re coming back. The less I know, the better.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, Esme’s orders were to deliver the note and return to the coven hall immediately.” She nods toward the door. “Besides, there’s someone else here who wants to talk to you.”

At first, I think she means Finn, but when I turn and find my sister standing there, my heart clenches painfully in my chest.

“I’d try to buy you more time,” Marianne says ruefully in parting, “but unfortunately I’m a firewielder, not a miracle-worker, so I don’t think there’s anything else I can do.”

“It’s alright,” I tell her. “I knew it was coming, no matter who the messenger was.”

Marianne leaves, and Seren walks slowly into the room to take her place.

“Hey, Sol.”

“Hey, Ser.”

She sits next to me, elbows resting on the table, eyes lost in thought and far away. “You got your marching orders?”

“Unfortunately.” I lay the scroll out on the table and she gives it a once-over before letting out a derisive snort.

“Never one for softening the blow, is she?”

I shrug and swallow hard. “It’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

“I mean what I said.” I glare at her. Nothing like thirty seconds with my twin sister to already have me irritated. “I left. I ran out on the most important time I’ve ever had with the coven, so there’s no reason Esme should be all warm and fuzzy with me.”

“Oh, really? There’s no reason she should have empathy for her apprentices? No reason she should understand why a witch might freak out a little before pledging the rest of her life to the—”

“Just stop, Seren!” I burst out. “I knew the deal. I always knew the deal. However I felt about it was my own problem to handle.”

My sister gives me a look so sympathetic, so understanding, that it pisses me off even more. It makes tears gather behind my eyes, though I can’t say whether they’re from anger, stress, frustration, or some godawful combination of all three.

Because I can barely even stand myself, I push up from my chair and pace away from her toward the greenhouse windows.

I try to focus on my breathing, and fail.

I try not to let all the dread get the better of me, and I fail at that, too.

My chest is tight, my breath too fast, and I only manage to stop myself from spiraling when I feel a comforting hand on my shoulder.

All the air in my lungs comes out on a tight exhale, and before I can breathe in again, I’m wrapped up into my sister’s embrace.

Goddess, I’ve missed this.

I’ve missed Seren, missed feeling like half of a whole rather than walking around half-formed and unfinished, wondering where the rest of me went.

Our paths were always destined to diverge. I can see that now with time and hindsight, after years have blunted the sting of her walking away, of me refusing to go with her.