Page 93 of Glutton for Punishment

My mother’s hands drop at once, as does her head in submission. Father’s eyes settle on me, face a storm of fury.

“My office. Now.” No greeting or relief at my safety.

I lift my mother’s chin and give her one last small smile before following him inside.

As always, his office smells of smoke and mahogany. He seats himself behind the desk and lights a cigar without asking me to sit.

“Well?” he says.

I stand straight despite the lingering ache in my body.

“Councilor Blaise orchestrated our capture,” I say. “The exile was a fabrication. We never reached the Wastes.”

His expression sharpens as I continue.

“He intercepted us in transit, imprisoned us beneath Greed territory, and restrained my abilities with suppressor cuffs. Arwen and I were held captive for over a month while he performed experiments on her like a lab rat.”

No response.

The words come out harder. “Daily torture. Interrogation. Forced power testing. He wanted to draw out whatever ability makes her valuable enough to steal from the Council.”

My father steeples his fingers. “And was he successful?”

My pulse kicks once as I hold his stare. “No.”

A lie, of course. The longer I can keep Arwen’s power under the radar, the less she is a threat or a target for him. His gaze remains on mine for so long I wonder if he hears the falsehood in my heartbeat.

“That’s disappointing,” he murmurs, clearly upset, although I don’t know why he would be. He wanted her gone.

I stay silent as he continues.

“The Council will not tolerate this. Marcus Blaise defies a unanimous vote, abducts a resource the council exiled for private exploitation, and concealed a potential asset from the governing body.” His fingers tap once against the desk.

“Even his allies will balk at such blatant overreach.”

He rises from his desk and buttons his suit jacket.

“I will call an emergency Council session immediately. If Blaise appears, we will detain him. If not…” His eyes darken. “We will begin discussions on how to handle the line of succession.”

His gaze turns back to me.

“And you,” he says, voice sharp, “have behaved like a fool.”

I knew he would berate me for my actions at Arwen’s trial…

“You followed a condemned girl into exile in front of the Dean and every faction leader in Vail.” His lip curls. “You made this house appear weak. You’re emotional and undisciplined.”

I lock my jaw tight to prevent an outburst. The urge is strong to snap back that I followed my bond and not a condemned girl.

“If you had a brother,” he says coolly, “I would reconsider your status as heir.”

My restraint breaks. “I did that because Arwen is my bond and needed to be protected. You know this.”

He stills at my words. He doesn’t care about Arwen, but maybe…

“If she is harmed, it affects me,” I say. “Distance weakens the connection. Instability in the bond creates vulnerabilities. You have always taught me not to allow weaknesses where they can be avoided.”

A partial truth.