He sits up beside me. “Pandora, look at me. I need you to stay calm.”
“I killed someone!” I clap a hand over my mouth, breathing quickening as the unrelenting truth of it washes over me. “Didn’t you go to tell Morin?”
“What? No, pet. I just…I had to get rid of the body. Look at me. I’m going to take care of everything, but you need to stay calm. It wasn’t your fault. She tried to kill you first. It was self-defense.”
“No, I mean, I told you it wasn’t me. It was the daemon. I—I—I can’t control it.”
He sighs. “Pandora, you do not have a fucking demon. You are a Magi.”
Tears well and spill out down my cheeks. “You d-d-don’t believe me?”
“Hey,” he says, voice softening. “I believe you. I do. I know that’s what you believe, but it’s not the truth.” He lays a hand on my arm, and I yank it back as the daemon begins lashing.
“Don’t touch me!”
His lips part.
“I can’t control it. It could happen again. It could happen to you,” I sob. I shoot out of the bed as the daemon lashes harder and more frantically.
He stands slowly, raising his hands. “I’m going to teach you how to control it.” He takes a careful step forward.
“Don’t come close to me!” I groan, pressing my back into the wall and digging my nails into my arms, my face reddening as I try to keep my fragile hold over it. “I’ll hurt you!”
“You’re not going to hurt me, pet.”
“I already did!”
“I deserved that.” He takes another step forward.
“Please!” I gasp. The daemon wells too intensely, too powerfully for me to hang onto. It expels with the height of my panic, cracking at the walls, and my breathing turns to hyperventilating.
“I’m not scared of you, Pandora.”
“You should be, you should be,” I bawl.
“You’re hurting yourself,” he groans. Blood trickles down my arm from how hard I’ve dug my nails there. My sobbing turns uncontrollable as he moves steadily closer and closer. Wall decor crashes to the floor. When I try to flee, he locks me there.
“I’m going to help you. Sleep,” he commands, slipping a hand under my chin, and the world goes black.
I wake up inSitri’s bed, morning light splashing across the room. Birds chirp outside serenely. My dress has been removed and I’m sporting Sitri’s black fluffy robe instead.
A herb-like smell fills the room and I hear Sitri rustling about in the other room. My heart leaps with excitement.He’s still here.He’s almost never here when I wake up. I’m halfway to the bedroom door when I notice how bare the walls look. The memories slip over my eyes and engulf me, some of them more lucid than others. I freeze, drawing in one breath after another. The mess of the previous night has been cleared away, the fissures in the walls sealed, but the walls are bare. As if the wall decor wasn’t worth salvaging.
I…don’t know what to do. I’ll let Sitri decide. It was his aunt. I stumble out of the bedroom and linger in the doorway.
Sitri looks up from where he’s chopping stems at the table. He immediately sets the knife down and brushes his hands clean. “Hey,” he says softly, eyes scanning me warily. He’s not sure what to expect from me.Idon’t know what to expect of me anymore.
His eyes are heavily bagged and bloodshot. There’s a collection of vials at the end of the table of whatever it is he’s been brewing. He picks one up, walks over, and holds it out. “I would like for you to take this…if you don’t mind.”
I narrow my eyes at the honey-colored liquid. One of his brows inches up with my skepticism. “It’s something to help you stay calm.”
I extend a single nod, take the vial, and toss it back. My throat is sore and stiff, and I grimace.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” I say, almost inaudibly.I’m not finebut I feel the effects of the potion immediately. There's nothing like the euphoria from the potion last night. There’s no buzz, but that deep sorrow loosens. Like everything is tolerable, and the dull pulse of the daemon slips into the background. Sated. Blank.
“Fine? You don’t have any…pain?”
