Heir of Fury

Chapter 3

"Come on, Serena, you've got to be feeling something," Joseline's chirpy voice grates against my pounding headache as we walk toward the infirmary. She never gets hangovers—lucky her. Me, though? My skull feels like it's about to split open, and her relentless optimism isn't helping.

"There's nothing to feel, Jo," I mutter, rubbing my temples as if I can push the pain away. "They came, they talked, they left. End of story."

She shoots me a look, her eyes rolling dramatically. "Ugh! This is so like you."

I slow my steps, irritation flaring. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means!" She stops, planting her hands on her hips. "What happened yesterday should've wrecked you. But no, Serena Griffin doesn't feel anything. She just stuffs it all in a box and pretends it doesn't exist."

"Fuck you, Jo." I shove past her, my pace quickening, the sharp snap of her accusation gnawing at me.

"Oh, but rage—that, you feel. Always so angry, always so fucking furious!" Her voice follows me, jabbing at a wound she knows too well.

I whirl around, anger boiling over. "You know what, Jo? I do feel. I feel every goddamn day, all the fucking time." I step closer, jabbing a finger into her chest, my breath coming hard. "Guilt. Sorrow. Fear. Every damn emotion in the spectrum, and for what? They don't help. They just sit there, so I shove them down, I swallow them whole because if I don't—" I choke on the words, a lump rising in my throat. I take a breath, forcing the storm back, but not before a tear slips down my cheek. "Just... just drop it, Jo."

The weight of her silence hangs in the air. When she speaks again, her voice is quieter, almost breaking. "Maybe you should go with them, Serena. Maybe if you saw him—if you knew why—it might help."

I wipe my cheek roughly, shaking my head. "This is my home, Jo. It might be shitty, and yeah, it's a constant fight, but it has you. It has Muriel. It has Lily." My voice hardens, steadying. "This is where I belong."

She nods slowly, eyes glistening. "Okay," she whispers, moving closer. "I guess it's selfish, but... I really didn't want you to go." She slips her arm through mine, holding on tight.

I force a smile, the warmth of her grip grounding me. "Good."

I take the long route to the infirmary, promising myself I'd stop by to see Lily before work. Joseline heads off in the other direction, her footsteps fading into the bustle of the morning streets.

But my mind? It's still tangled in the shadows of last night. Even as Lily skips beside me, her tiny hand tugging at mine, her voice a constant stream of chatter, I can't shake this feeling—the quiet, gnawing certainty that whatever started last night is far from over.

I smile when she smiles, laugh when she laughs, but it's all mechanical, automatic. Beneath it, something heavier presses on my chest. There's a part of me—a part I've buried deep beneath all the stubborn anger and the walls I've built—that remembers what it felt like to be a little sister. To wait every month for my big brother's visits, to believe that when he showed up, everything would somehow be okay. That he'd hold me through the stormy nights like he used to.

Some stupid, naive part of me still wants to run to him, to the safety of his arms, and pretend that all the years of betrayal never happened. That part of me wants to go with those two stranger Faes, leave this cursed place behind, and hope for something better. But then there's the other part—the one that has survived in The Scorns, the part of me that loves the family I've built here. As broken and miserable as this place is, it's home. They are my home.

"And then I told her that if she wouldn't share her food with me, I'd never share my blanket with her again!" Lily's voice cuts through my thoughts, bubbling with the kind of righteous indignation only a child can muster.