Secrets

Chapter 17 - Choices

Gabriel moved slowly, his sharp gaze sweeping over her room as though cataloging every detail.

His fingers brushed idly against the corner of her desk, and he picked up a small trinket—a chipped figurine of a ballerina. He turned it over in his hand, his expression unreadable, but there was no malice in his movements, only curiosity.

"So," he began, his tone casual yet laced with intrigue, "you're entertaining the idea of becoming a Sirin. Fascinating, really. I didn't think you'd be so eager to give up your humanity."

Mia crossed her arms, leaning against the edge of her bed.

"I didn't say I was eager," she replied, her voice wary. "And I haven't agreed to anything."

Gabriel's lips curved into a faint smile as he set the figurine back in its place, precisely as he found it.

"Good," he said lightly, moving to inspect the bookshelf against the wall. His fingers trailed along the spines of worn books, pausing occasionally to glance at a title.

"It would be a shame to see you rush into something so... permanent without fully understanding the consequences."

Mia watched him warily, unsure if he was mocking her or genuinely concerned.

"You don't think it's a good idea," she stated, more than asked.

Gabriel chuckled softly, turning back to face her.

"Let's just say it's an interesting idea. But I'm more curious about its origin. Who, exactly, planted this little seed in your mind?"

Mia hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. She had been dreading this part, but there was no point in lying. He'd know.

"It was Matt," she admitted quietly, her voice barely audible.

The air in the room seemed to shift instantly, the lightness in Gabriel's demeanor vanishing. His smile faded, replaced by a sharp tension in his jaw as his posture stiffened.

For a moment, the shadows around him flickered, as though responding to his mood.

"Matt," he repeated, his tone colder now, though still measured. "Of course it was."

Mia swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as she watched his reaction.

"He thought it could help," she said quickly, as if to diffuse the tension. "He said the elixir in my system—might make it possible."

Gabriel let out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head.

"And Matt, in all his infinite wisdom, decided that turning you into a Sirin was the best solution," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. He turned away, pacing toward the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Do you know how reckless that is? How dangerous?"

Mia frowned, confusion and defensiveness mixing in her expression.

"He was trying to help," she said firmly. "He thought it would give me control over what's happening to me."

Gabriel stopped, his silhouette framed by the faint light streaming through the window. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, sharper.

"Matt doesn't understand the cost of what he's suggesting. Turning isn't just a physical transformation—it's a rewriting of your very essence. It's irreversible. And to even attempt it with someone in your condition..." He trailed off, exhaling sharply. "It's foolish. Irresponsible."

Mia's frustration bubbled to the surface.

"And what would you suggest, Gabriel?" she asked, her tone edged with challenge. "Because so far, all you've done is criticize. If you think you know so much, why don't you tell me what I should do?"