Chapter 4
Thalia tugged at her stiff lips, forcing herself to speak slowly, “I understand.”
Callum’s expression flickered with something cold, an icy shadow passing through his features. Yet, just as quickly, he mastered himself, his face smoothing over into unreadable calm.
The moment passed so fleetingly that Thalia wondered if she’d imagined it. But then, with a faint curl of his lips, Callum said, “Since you understand, don’t let it happen again.”
Thalia’s jaw Added to the library inding
don’t
audibly as understand. What do you mean by that?”
His demeanor hardened, his voice sharp as a
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blade. “Do you really need me to spell it out, Thalia? You know Ophelia is one of Selene’s closest friends, yet you had the nerve to call Rowena a mistress. And somehow, you claim that you’re not targeting Selene?”
The accusation hit her like a slap. Thalia’s anger flared, but she forced it down, struggling to stay composed. Still, his words cut deep, and she snapped back, “Ophelia was the one who insulted Mom first. Or have you conveniently decided to forget that?”
Her eyes searched his face, hoping for understanding, but all she found was disappointment sinking deeper into his gaze. “Cassian was right,” he said, his tone cool and implacable. “You’ve been spoiled.”
The words landed with brutal precision, hollowing out the space in her chest. She stared at him, stunned into silence. She had
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always expected Cassian to side with Selene. -that had never surprised her–but her brother? Callum?
Her voice trembled, fragile yet defiant. “Ophelia said Dad cheated because Mom wasn’t worthy of him. Doesn’t that make your blood boil? Aren’t you angry about that?”
Callum regarded her with a calm intensity that unnerved her, his usual warmth absent. His words were weighted, deliberate. “At that time, Selene was just a newborn, Thalia. She couldn’t possibly have understood any of it. You know she wasn’t at fault for being born. Selene’s right–none of this was her choice. You need to stop blaming her.”
Those words broke something in Thalia, though she couldn’t quite name what. She didn’t even realize how she’d been targeting
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Selene–not consciously. And yet, the weight of his rebuke transported her back to a time. she’d rather forget. Back to the night Selene was attacked.
Her father had stormed into her room, grabbing her roughly from bed, his face carved with fury. He had accused her without hesitation, claiming she’d orchestrated the attack. Malicious. Calculating. That’s what they’d called her. Someone had even claimed they’d seen her do it. From then on, the world narrowed into a singular, merciless lens of suspicion and public rebuke. The cold stares, the whispers, the disdain pressed down on her until she could barely breathe.
Her brother had been there. Not to save her, not to stand by her innocence, but to deliver what felt like the final blow. She still remembered his sharp, detached words:
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“Thalia, no matter what you’ve done, I’ll stand by you. But you still have to face the consequences.”
He’d stood with her, yes, but only out of familial duty. Not because he believed her. And in punishment, they shipped her off to a private prison, silencing her voice before she could defend herself.
Now, years later, she saw that same impenetrable look in his eyes. A calm resignation with a sliver of disgust flashing unmistakably, briefly. “Thalia,” he said evenly, “you’re my sister, and for that reason alone, I’ll always stand by you. But I can’t watch something like this unfold again. Enough is enough.”
His words echoed in her mind, striking chords of betrayal and sorrow she couldn’t ignore. The man standing before her-
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tall, familiar, yet entirely alien–was not the brother she had known.
Her thoughts spiraled, pulling her back to another moment, one she had once clung to like a lifeline. It was her mother’s funeral, and she had been inconsolable. At just ten years old, she sobbed with abandon, her heartbroken cries filling the silence of their loss. He had been only seventeen then, still lanky with boyish features etched by premature grief. Struggling with his own pain, he had taken her hand in his, gripping tightly as if anchoring them both to the earth.
“Stop crying, Thalia,” his voice had been hoarse, trembling with restraint. “Even without Mom, you’ve still got me. I’ll protect you. For the rest of your life, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
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And he had. For years, he kept that promise. No matter what storm came their way, no matter what mistakes she made, her brother had been her shield–the one person she could always lean on, the one voice that could calm her.
But now… Now that promise had been reduced to mere words, hollow and meaningless. Yes, he still stood beside her, but something essential had been lost along the way. His heart–his belief in her–was no longer there.
Thalia stared at him, her throat tightening with unshed tears. The Callum she once knew, the brother who had vowed to protect her for life, was long gone. All that remained was a fractured shadow of their bond. And as the pain of that realization sank in, she finally understood–this wasn’t her fault alone. Somewhere along the line, he had also
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stopped loving her.
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