“Miss Cross.” He straightened, offering me a smile that probably charmed most people. “I’m Argos Stormwright. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you properly. My son has told me so much about you.”
So, this was Alexander’s father. The perfect politeness in his voice grated against my nerves like sandpaper. I didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust him. “Has he?”
“All good things, I assure you.” Argos’s smile didn’t waver. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal. I hope this collar brings you some relief.”
There was something almost kind in his tone, a gentleness that felt calculated and wrong. Nothing about this man was kind without an agenda behind it.
“Your concern is touching,” I said flatly. “Especially from someone I’ve never met.”
“Andromeda.” Helena’s voice carried a warning.
But Argos just laughed, seemingly delighted by my hostility. “She has spirit. I can see why you’re so taken, Alexander.” He glanced at his son. “Though I imagine that spirit makes the curse’s effects even more challenging.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. The tension between father and son was palpable, another layer of unease in this already complicated situation.
I moved to the chair positioned in the center of the room, desperate to escape this conversation. I sat down with as much dignity as I could muster. I hated how vulnerable I felt, even in a room full of people who presumably wanted to help me.
Cassandra approached first, her healer’s warmth radiating outward. “How are you feeling this morning, Andromeda?”
“Like I’m about to let you put a collar on me,” I snapped back at her. “How should I be feeling?”
Cassandra didn’t take offense. She never did. “The process should be painless. The collar will activate gradually, allowing your system to adjust to the aura regulation. You might feel some initial disorientation as your brainwave patterns stabilize.”
Danae moved to stand beside her, the case with the collar in her hands. “You can still say no, Andie. This is your choice.”
Was it? I looked around the room. The lines of strain on Danae’s face screamed of exhausted determination. Cassandra’s healing fire flickered, betraying her concern. My mother was still watching me with guilt-ridden hope. As for Alexander… his carefully blank expression didn’t quite hide the desperate longing underneath.
He must have gone to his father for help, as there was no other reason Argos would be here. Going to him must have cost Alexander his pride. He’d humbled himself for me, just like he had in front of Orion Maris.
“Let’s do it,” I said. “Before I lose my nerve.”
I had wanted things before. Political outcomes, territory, problems solved correctly. I had wanted Andie from the first moment I understood what she was to me. But I had never wanted anything the way I wanted the collar to work.
It was a specific, excruciating wanting that had nowhere to go. The outcome was entirely out of my hands. I was watching Danae carry the collar toward the chair, and every second felt like holding my breath underwater.
Andie sat rigid on the examination table. She hadn’t looked at me since she’d given her consent. “Remember,” Danae said, “the collar should feel like pressure at first, then relief as its feedback loop breaks.”
“Should.” Andie’s laugh came out brittle. “That’s reassuring.”
“The readings were consistent across every test.” Danae glanced at me, then at my father. Argos stood near the door with his arms crossed, observing the process with detached interest. “The aurapatterns matched Lord Stormwright’s signature exactly. There’s no scientific reason this shouldn’t work.”
Helena stepped closer to her daughter. “If you want to wait—”
“No.” Andie’s jaw tightened. “I’m done waiting. I’m done being managed and sedated and locked away like something broken. If this works, I get my life back. If it doesn’t… I suppose we’ll just have to see what happens.”
Danae approached.
The collar touched Andie’s throat.
For one perfect moment, nothing happened. The crystals hummed against her skin, soft and steady. Andie’s shoulders dropped a fraction. Danae exhaled. I let myself believe—
Andie’s eyes flew open.
The scream ripped from somewhere deeper than her chest. Her back arched off the table, spine bowing at an impossible angle. The collar blazed white-hot, and smoke rose from where metal met skin.
“Alexander!” Her hands clawed the air. “Alexander—”
I was across the room before I knew I’d moved.