The First Cut Always Bleeds Quietest

The guards posted at the west wing didn't question her.

Not when she showed up just before dawn. Not when she demanded to see Camille. Not even when her tone promised blood if they tried.

Magnolia stepped into the private ward with ice in her chest and fire under her skin.

Camille sat by the window, hair braided down her back, eyes half-lidded and far away. She didn't turn when the door clicked shut. Didn't flinch when Magnolia stepped closer.

"You asked for him," Magnolia said quietly.

No answer.

"You remember who I am, but you still chose him."

Camille's fingers curled in her lap. "He didn't leave me."

The words sliced cleaner than anything Ivy could've said.

Magnolia took a breath, slow and dangerous. "And I didn't choose to."

Silence stretched between them like a snapped cord.

"I see you in pieces," Camille whispered finally. "In the river. In the dark. In the glass. But I don't know which one is real."

"None of them," Magnolia said. "You've only ever seen what they wanted you to."

Camille finally looked up.

And her eyes weren't hers.

They were too pale. Too hollow. Like something else was looking through them.

"I don't dream anymore," she said. "He took that, too."

Magnolia stepped closer. "Who?"

But Camille turned away.

And the connection broke.

Rhett was waiting when Magnolia left the ward.

He leaned against the wall like he'd been there a while. Arms crossed. Eyes unreadable.

"She's getting worse," he said.

"I noticed."

He pushed off the wall. "I didn't know she'd asked for me. If I had "

"You would've come faster?"

"No," he said. "I would've told you first."

Magnolia studied him. The shadows under his eyes. The slight tremble in his hand.

"You think she's possessed."

"I think something's feeding off her. Whatever Sterling opened in her… it's not done."

"Ivy knew."

He blinked. "What?"

"She told me. About Camille asking for you. About where she was moved."

Rhett's jaw clenched. "She's not supposed to know that."

"She knows everything," Magnolia said bitterly. "Even how to twist the knife just right."

"She wants your position."

"She can have it," Magnolia snapped. "I never asked for this."

"But you're the only one who survived it."

He took a step closer. "I don't trust her near Camille. Not now."

"Then stop her."

"I'm trying."

"Not hard enough."

His gaze darkened. "You think this is easy? Balancing a pack on the edge of rebellion, a sister who might be cursed, and a Luna who won't let me in?"

She didn't move.

"You won't talk to me," he said. "You won't trust me. You barely even look at me unless you have to."

"You turned me into a contract."

"I tried to protect you."

"No," she whispered. "You tried to protect your power."

Rhett exhaled, slow and low.

Then he handed her something small. Folded parchment.

"What is this?"

"A name. The one Camille called out in her sleep. Over and over."

Magnolia unfolded the note.

One word.

Ashriel.

Her blood turned to ice.

She'd seen that name once before.

Carved into the wall of an old ruin in the forbidden forest. A name meant to stay buried.

When she looked up, Rhett was gone.

And in the hallway, the scent of smoke lingered.

Like something had passed between them and left nothing but warning behind.