3

Maevryn’s POV

I woke up again, this time to the smell of something sweet. My eyes flicked open, realizing that this wasn’t a dream. I was still here. Still in a strange place. Still held in a room by my… supposed father.

No. Not supposed.

He is my father.

My sperm donor, at least.

The one who didn’t care enough to stay.

He abandoned my mom.

What’s to say he won’t abandon me?

Anger bubbled in my chest, rising into my throat… but it faded the second I looked to my left.

A tray sat on the bedside table - Fresh fruit, yogurt and cinnamon french toast. A glass of apple juice and another water bottle was placed beside it.

I looked around ensuring I was safe and no one was going to take my food.

I slowly pulled the tray into my lap and ate it. Slowly to make sure I savored the meal. This was the most I had eaten in a long time.

My mother, Nythera never bothered to cook me meals or even make sure there were groceries in the cupboard. She would make me meals once in a while if I did my chores properly or if she had a good day at work and wasn't passed out piss drunk on the couch. never cooked meals. Groceries were a luxury. If she was sober enough to function, she might leave me scraps. As much as I hated her for all the pain she had inflicted on me, I missed her. I doubted she even noticed I was gone. She probably doesn't even care. Maybe, even relieved that I was finally out of her hair.. But I still… missed her.

I was halfway through my toast when I heard the door creak open. Instinctively, I shoved the rest in my mouth, bracing for a scream or a slap.

But it was the blonde girl from before.

No longer wearing her white and black scrubs, this time she was dressed normally. She wore what looked like roots black sweatpants that hung off her hips ever so slightly, a black sports bra tank top and her blonde highlighted hair was down, cascading around her shoulders and mid back. She was tall and slim—probably 5’6, just a bit shorter than me—and stunning.

I slowed down, realizing I wasn’t in danger, and finished my food quietly. She stepped further into the room, pausing to see if I was okay with her approaching. I shifted in the bed to make space and gave her a small nod.

She smiled gently, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, just watching me eat.

“You eat like you’ve never seen food before,” she said hesitantly. “Was it really that bad there?”

I looked at her sharply..

“When you've been starved and deprived of food like me, then come talk to me about how delicious and rare food is.” I snorted, not meaning to sound so hostile. I glanced at her, she was taken aback but she quickly recovered.

“I’m Brinley, by the way,” she said with a soft smile. “Most people just call me Brin,”

Her eyes… they twinkled. Almost literally, like they were catching starlight. She had that same intense emerald hue as me. It felt… familiar.

She hesitated before speaking again.

“Maevryn…” She said my name carefully, like it was sacred. “Lucian wanted me to ask you something.”

Another pause.

“How long has she been hurting you?”

I froze.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I mumbled, shoving a piece of fruit in my mouth.

She glanced at my arms and face, and gently pulled the blanket back.

“You know exactly what I mean… these aren't just bruises from being clumsy. Eric had mentioned them to us a while ago… she never stopped did she.. “

My chest tightened. I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted her to stop seeing me so clearly.

“You know Mr. Rhyerson?” I asked, deflecting.

She nodded. Clearly my sperm donor knew him too, but how did she? She never went to high school with me?

I may be only in 10th grade but I would've seen her at the school. She was stunning and she definitely would have bullied me had she been at my school. All the popular kids did.

“He's Lucian’s Bet- friend,” she said quickly. Too quickly. She hesitated—like she was going to say something else.

I could've sworn she was going to say Beta, but that's not a real thing. That's only in the books I've read. I looked around suddenly, scanning for my phone. She pulled it from her pocket—my cracked old iPhone XR. I took it from her hand, and the screen lit up with 30 missed texts and calls from my mom.

I didn’t expect her to notice I was gone. But she had.

Every message was a threat.

If you don’t come home, you’re dead.

You think you can run? I’ll find you.

I handed the phone back to Brinley.

“Keep it,” I muttered. “She’s not going to leave me alone until I go back.”

Brinley studied me carefully.

“I’m going back, right?” I asked, half-hoping she’d say yes.

Despite my mom being a piece of shit something in deep inside me still loved her even after everything and I wanted to make sure she was okay.

Brinley shook her head slowly.

“He won’t let you go back,” she said softly. “Not when we know she’d probably kill you.”

My stomach dropped. But I didn’t argue.

I stared at the door, half-expecting Lucian to walk through it.

“Here,” she said. “Put these on. I think we’re about the same size. I’ll show you around.”

Shocked by what she just offered, I grabbed the clothes and inspected them. I’d never worn name-brand clothes before.

I’d never been given something new. Not without a price.

I stood and turned around, unbothered by her presence, and quickly changed. I caught her watching me—but not in a judgmental way.

Her eyes shimmered with… softness. Like she saw me, and didn’t hate what she saw. That was new.

She opened the door and reached for my hand, coaxing me gently.

And as I stepped forward, that quiet tug in the back of my mind started —like something was wrong.

Why has no one told me why the hell I’m here?

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