Chapter 1: Lightning

Astrid POV:

I stood frozen in the doorway, my heart shattering into a million pieces as I watched the city guards drag my parents away. The evening sun cast a golden glow over the cobblestone streets, but I saw only darkness. My mind raced with questions, but no answers came.

Why were they taking my parents? What had they done? Eira and Thorne, the healers, the ones who helped those in need? It made no sense.

"Come inside, Astrid," Elara called softly from behind me, but I shook my head, my eyes fixed on the scene before me.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off, my gaze never leaving the guards as they disappeared into the crowd. My parents' faces, etched with worry and fear, haunted me.

Where were they taking them? What would happen to them?

I spun around, determination burning within me. "I have to find out what's going on," I told Elara, my voice firm.

She nodded, her face lined with concern. "We'll find out, Astrid. We'll get to the bottom of this."

I nodded, a resolve forming within me. I would do whatever it took to free my parents and clear their names. I would not rest until they were back home, safe and sound.

Little did I know, this was only the beginning of a journey that would test my courage, my heart, and my very soul.

The next day, I was still reeling from the shock of my parents' arrest when I heard the sound of horses outside. I looked out the window to see my Aunt Edith and my cousin, Rowan, dismounting from their steeds. My heart sank. I had never gotten along with Aunt Edith, and Rowan was always a bully.

As they entered the house, Aunt Edith's gaze swept over the room, her eyes lingering on the empty spaces where my parents' belongings once sat. "Well, well, well. Looks like the place has been raided," she said, her voice dripping with malice.

I felt a surge of anger, but Elara's hand on my arm cautioned me to remain calm.

"Hello, Astrid," Aunt Edith said, her voice cold. "I see you're still here. How...fortunate for you."

Rowan snickered, his eyes mocking me. "Yeah, you're really lucky, Astrid."

Aunt Edith's gaze turned to Elara. "And who is this? Your little friend from next door?"

Elara stood tall, her eyes meeting Aunt Edith's. "I'm Elara, Astrid's best friend. And I'm not going anywhere."

Aunt Edith's expression turned sour, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned to me. "Astrid, you will pack your things. You will be moving out of your room to make way for Rowan."

I felt a protest rise up in my throat. "But where will I go?"

Aunt Edith's smile was cruel. "You will find a new place to sleep, Astrid. Perhaps the attic or the couch. You are no longer the daughter of this household, after all."

Elara's grip on my arm tightened, and I knew she was trying to keep me from lashing out. I took a deep breath and began to pack my belongings, my heart heavy with resentment and anger. But I would not give Aunt Edith the satisfaction of seeing me break. I would endure this, and I would find a way to reclaim my family's honor and my own rightful place in this home.

I trudged up the creaky stairs, my arms laden with my meager belongings, and pushed open the door to the cramped attic room. It was tiny, with a single window that let in a sliver of light, and a narrow bed that looked like it hadn't been used in years. I dropped my things onto the bed, feeling a sense of displacement wash over me. This was not my home anymore.

As I made my way back downstairs, I heard the sound of furniture being hauled into the house. I entered the main hall to find Aunt Edith directing a team of burly men, who were lugging in ornate chairs, velvet drapes, and heavy portraits. The air was thick with the smell of dust and polish.

"Where is that going?" I asked, my voice tight with anger, as I watched them hang a grand portrait of my aunt and uncle above the fireplace.

Aunt Edith turned to me, her eyes flashing with irritation. "It's going right there, Astrid. And you will address me as 'Aunt' from now on."

I bit back a retort, my anger simmering just below the surface. How could she do this? It had barely been a day since my parents were taken away, and she was already remaking our home in her image.

I turned to Elara, who was watching the scene with a sympathetic eye. "Can you believe this?" I whispered, my voice trembling with rage. "She's erasing my parents from our home, and she doesn't even care."

Elara's face was a mask of calm, but her eyes blazed with indignation. "We'll get through this, Astrid. Together."

I nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards my friend. But as I watched Aunt Edith's furniture and portraits take over our home, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was losing my family, my home, and my very identity.

As the evening drew to a close, Elara hugged me tight. "I'll come back tomorrow, Astrid. We'll figure something out, I promise." I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat as I watched her leave.

I trudged up to my new room, feeling like a stranger in my own home. I took a bath, trying to wash away the stress and anxiety of the day, and put on my favorite robe, a soft, worn thing that had been mine since childhood.

Just as I was starting to feel a little better, I heard the door creak open. I turned to see Rowan standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face.

"Cozy little room you've got here, cousin," he said, his eyes scanning the small space.

I felt a surge of anger, but I tried to keep my cool. "What do you want, Rowan?"

He shrugged, his eyes lingering on me in a way that made my skin crawl. "Just thought I'd come and say goodnight. You know, family and all that."

I crossed my arms, trying to look braver than I felt. "Goodnight, Rowan. Please leave."

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere, Astrid. This is my home now, too."

As Rowan stepped closer, his eyes roamed over my body, making me feel like a specimen under scrutiny. He sniffed the air, his nose inches from my skin, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I tried to step back, but he moved closer, his breath hot on my face.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice firm.

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Just getting to know you, cousin. You smell like roses."

I felt a surge of irritation and discomfort. "Personal space, Rowan. Learn it."

He smirked, his face inches from mine. "Oh, I'm just getting started."

What the hell does he mean by that m just getting started, is he crazy. We're cousins for crying out loud. He pinned me to the wall and my heartbeat increased because he left no room for escape. "How about we do something fun" He smirked as he smacked his lips.

Just as Rowan's face was inches from mine, a loud crack of thunder shook the house, plunging my room into darkness. The sudden blackness was like a blessing, giving me the chance to escape. I didn't hesitate, using all my strength to bite down on Rowan's hand. He yelped in pain, releasing his grip on me.

I didn't waste a second, dashing out of my room and into the unknown darkness of the house. My heart raced as I stumbled through the blackness, desperate to get away from Rowan's clutches. I heard his angry roar and the sound of his footsteps behind me, but I didn't look back. I kept running, my hands outstretched in front of me, until I reached the kitchen.

I flung open the kitchen door and dove inside, slamming it shut behind me. I leaned against the door, panting and trembling with fear. My eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light of the kitchen, and I saw the glint of a knife on the counter. I grabbed it, holding it tightly in my hand, ready to defend myself if Rowan dared to follow me.

The storm outside seemed to grow more intense, the rain pounding against the windows like a relentless drumbeat. Each thunderclap made me jump, my nerves stretched taut as a bowstring. I tried to calm myself down, telling myself I was safe, but the darkness seemed to press in on me, making me feel trapped and vulnerable.

And then, I heard his footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and unmistakable. Rowan had followed me to the kitchen, his eyes seemingly able to pierce through the darkness. I gripped the knife tightly, my heart racing with fear. How could he move so silently, like a predator stalking its prey?