Marionettmästaren

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

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Clarence Manor.
Titeln var inristad i en av pelarna vid den grindade ingången. Bakom järngallret stod en tvåvåningsbyggnad i rött tegel stolt i slutet av en smal gränd. Vita fönster i olika former, från rektanglar till ovaler, glänste i augustisolen. Runda kolonner omgärdade ingången, och i mitten av gatan bubblade vatten från en fontän.
Det fanns inte en chans i helvete att hon var på rätt ställe. Folk som ägde herrgårdar i federalistisk stil hyrde inte ut rum för fyrahundra dollar i månaden.
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Förlorad. Trött. Ensam.
Hon hade kört i nio timmar och allt hon ville var att falla ihop. Packa upp och sova resten av helgen. Hennes kläder var skrynkliga. Sminket som hon hade lagt på sig i morse hade smält bort från hennes ansikte. Luftkonditioneringen i hennes bil hade pajat för trehundra mil sedan, och även med fönstren nere var luften varm och kvav.
Cassia öppnade sin telefon för att dubbelkolla sms:et från sin hyresvärd-rumskamrat. Hon skrev in adressen som Ivy hade gett henne i GPS:en igen. Två gånger. Båda gångerna landade den på samma plats.
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Hon sträckte ut en arm genom fönstret och slog in siffrorna som Ivy hade gett henne i knappsatsen. Hon hade antagit att portkoden skulle vara till ett lägenhetskomplex eller ett campusområde fullt av små hus som de som hade omringat Hughes. Men pappa hade alltid varnat henne för att Aston inte var som andra universitet.
Metallens knakande ljud hördes i luften när järngrindarna svängde upp.
"Eh... allvarligt?" Så hon var inte vilse. Hon hade inte energi nog för att göra en fist pump. I stället lyfte hon foten från bromsen och släppte på banan.
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Cassia hade aldrig känt sig så fattig i sitt liv.
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Och nu huset.
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Klädseln, i kombination med håret, fick henne att se ut som om hon hörde hemma på en hippiekommun, inte på ett prestigefyllt privat universitet i utkanten av Boston. Men å andra sidan hade hon aldrig riktigt passat in någonstans. I alla fall inte på Hughes.
Hon hade inga förväntningar på att smälta in på Aston heller.
Med ett djupt andetag i lungorna tryckte hon på dörrklockan, och hennes hjärta rusade när hon väntade.
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"Jag, um ... hej. Jag tror att jag är på fel ställe."
"Vad heter du?"
"Cassie Nei-Collins." Fan också. Hon tvingade fram ett leende. "Cassia Collins. Jag är en ny student och jag har hyrt ett rum i ett hus här i närheten. Men anvisningarna som min rumskamrat gav mig var till det här stället. Finns det en garagelägenhet eller något sådant? Jag visste inte var jag annars skulle parkera, men jag flyttar min bil. Jag vet att det är en synvilla. Kanske kan du bara peka mig i rätt riktning. Jag ber om ursäkt. Jag är förvirrad. Jag är ledsen."
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På grund av den tomma blicken tyckte inte herr Starch att hon var charmig, men mannen öppnade dörren vidare och vinkade in henne.
"Åh, jag kan vänta här ute." Hon höll upp en hand. "Det är okej."
Han skannade henne från topp till tå och hans läpp krökte sig en aning. "Eller så kan du komma in, så får miss Ivy visa dig till ditt rum."
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"Herrejävlar, inte en chans." Ivy. Hennes nya rumskamrat.
En garagelägenhet var det mest troliga, men tänk om ...
Hon lät sig inte avsluta den tanken. Cassia trodde inte längre på tur.
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"Oj." Hennes viskning ekade.
En svepande trappa svängde sig till andra våningen. En kristallkrona fångade upp solljuset som strömmade genom fönstren och kastade små regnbågar runt entrén. En blombukett av vita rosor och liljor stod på ett intrikat bord vid hennes sida och deras doft fyllde hennes näsa.
Fotsteg ljöd från den korridor som mannen hade försvunnit genom och hon stod rakare, andan fastnade i halsen när en fantastisk blond kvinna steg genom foajén.
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"Hallå! Du måste vara Cassia. Välkommen." Kvinnan sträckte ut sin hand med ett leende. "Jag heter Ivy Clarence."

"Hej." Hon tog en tugga. "Det är trevligt att träffa dig."
"Jag är så glad att du är här." Ivys blå ögon mjuknade. "Hittade du huset bra?"
"Ja. Dina anvisningar var perfekta." Och om Cassia hade frågat efter Ivys efternamn under deras enda telefonsamtal för att diskutera hyreslistan, hade herrgårdens namn varit logiskt.
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"Du har träffat Geoff", sa Ivy.
"Det gjorde jag. Är det här hans hus?" Hon var inte emot att bo med den äldre herrn, men hennes antaganden hade gjort henne besviken sedan hon stannat vid grinden.
"Nej, Geoff är vår butler." Ivy fnissade. "Han tar hand om egendomen. Men jag lovar att du knappt kommer att märka att han är här."
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"Jag är ledsen." Cassia svalde ett skratt. "Jag hade inte väntat mig allt detta. Du sa väl fyrahundra i månaden?" För det var allt hon hade råd att betala.
Ivy nickade. "Ja, det stämmer."
"Okej." Luften rusade ur hennes lungor.
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"Jag ska visa dig till ditt rum", sa Ivy. "Låt dig sedan packa upp och göra dig hemmastadd."
Detta var det ögonblick Cassia förväntade sig att bli förd till en källare, men Ivy gick mot den svepande trappan och ledde henne till andra våningen.
Även om hon var tvungen att bo i en förrådsskåp på övervåningen skulle hon klara sig. För fyrahundra dollar hade hon förväntat sig en trång lägenhet med delat badrum. Om hennes rum var en riktig garderob, så var det så. Det här var bara en kortsiktig situation för hennes sista år.
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Ivys klackar klickade för varje steg. Hennes fingertoppar sköljde över träräcket och ljuset fångade hennes blanka, gröna naglar. Ivy var utan tvekan den typ av tjej som fick manikyr varje vecka. Under tiden tuggade Cassia på sina naglar till knutarna.
Hon stoppade ner händerna i jeansfickorna.
"Hur var din resa?" Ivy frågade över axeln. "Du kom från Pennsylvania, eller hur?"
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Så fort hon hade kört från campus i morse hade det varit som att fly från en storm. Aston var en okänd. Ny skola. Nya klasser. Nya professorer. Det var en nervpirrande trio. Men Cassia skulle ta denna knut i magen om det betydde att hon inte längre behövde stå i mitten av en tornado.
"Det här är ett riktigt fint hus", sa hon när de nådde landgången på andra våningen. "Du berättade inte precis att det var så här, um ... tjusigt."
Ivy ryckte på axlarna. "Jag antar att det är det. För mig är det bara ett hem."
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Cassias beslut att flytta till Aston hade varit en spontan idé för tre veckor sedan. Efter månader av att ha undvikit världen och svalt sig i sin sorg hade hon krupit ut ur sin ensamhet för att träffa sin rådgivare på Hughes. Fem minuter på campus, med människor som gav henne konstiga blickar och viskade bakom hennes rygg, hade skickat henne in i en spiral. Hon hade hoppat över mötet, skyndat sig hem och ringt ett samtal.
Det fanns för många minnen från Hughes. För många hemskheter. Att överge det livet hade varit hennes enda alternativ.
En och endast en person på Aston kände till hennes förflutna. Och han hade lovat att aldrig dela med sig av den fula sanningen.
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Tills folk frågade vad hon hette och Cassia Collins var det automatiska svaret.
Tills Cassie Neilsons spöke hade försvunnit.
"Du är den här vägen." Ivy svängde en arm mot korridoren till vänster om dem. "Var snäll och känn er som hemma. Salongen på den här sidan av herrgården är verkligen mysig på regniga eftermiddagar. Biblioteket är fritt fram, och om du vill ha en brasa tänd i kaminen är det bara att fråga Geoff."
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De passerade dörr efter dörr när de gick i den breda korridoren. Kronlisterna och fönsterlisterna var handsnidade med rullade detaljer som bara fanns i klassiska byggnader.
Ivy svängde in i en annan korridor och gick fram till den sista dörren. "Det här är din svit. Vi har en hushållerska som städar den här sidan av huset varje fredag, men om du behöver något-"
"Fråga bara Geoff."
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"Uh ..." Är det okej?
Rummet var större än den lägenhet hon lämnat i Pennsylvania. Himmelsängen var så massiv att hon förmodligen skulle gå vilse under det plyschade, vita täcket. Ett bord i hörnet hade två vingryggiga stolar. Hon hade en egen gaskamin. Fönstren hade utsikt över husets baksida och trädgårdarna utanför.
"Det här är en dröm", viskade hon till Ivy. Och till sig själv.
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"Wow. Det är ... wow." Svetten började pärla vid hennes tinningar. Det här var för bra för att vara sant. Alldeles för bra. Bra saker hände inte henne nuförtiden.
"Vill du ha hjälp med att bära in dina saker?" Ivy frågade. "Geoff bär gärna upp dem på övervåningen."

Med tanke på hur Geoff hade tittat upp och ner på henne tvivlade hon starkt på att han skulle vara frivillig. "Nej, tack. Jag kan ta dem. Jag har inte mycket."
Innehållet i hennes liv hade fått plats i bagageluckan på en Honda. Det kunde ha varit deprimerande om hon inte hade känt en tyngd lämna sina axlar när hon hade sålt resten av sina ägodelar.
En nystart. Ett tomt blad.
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"Ja, tack. Absolut."
"Tack." Hon skrattade och vinkade åt Cassia att följa med. När de nådde toppen av trappan pekade hon på korridoren som sträckte sig mot husets motsatta ände. "Mina rum ligger åt det hållet."
Rummen. Plural. Cassia kvävde ett skratt. Vad i helvete gjorde hon här? "Okej. Coolt."
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De drog sig tillbaka nerför trappan och genom foajén, och slingrade sig genom herrgårdens labyrint av korridorer tills Cassia inte var säker på vilken väg som var upp eller ner. Ivy visade henne den formella matsalen och den informella matsalen. De passerade biljardrummet och en annan salong. Sedan fanns det en teater och ett gym i hemmet.
"Eloras rum ligger på första våningen", sa Ivy när hon svängde in i det enorma köket med industriella apparater.
"Elora?"
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"Okej."
"Vi har bott tillsammans sedan första året."
"Ah." Så Cassia skulle vara det tredje hjulet. För fyrahundra dollar och ett eget badrum skulle hon vara det tionde hjulet. Med tanke på att det här huset kunde rymma femtio personer skulle det inte vara något problem att ha två rumskamrater.
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"Hej, Francis. Det här är Cassia Collins. Hon kommer att bo här i år."
Francis nickade. "Miss Cassia."
"Åh, du kan bara kalla mig Cassia", korrigerade hon. "Jag behöver inte fröken."
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"Francis är vår kock", sa Ivy när kvinnan lämnade rummet. "Hon håller kylskåpet fyllt för frukost och lunch och förbereder sedan en måltid varje kväll."
"Okej. Finns det något ställe där jag kan förvara mina matvaror så att de inte är i vägen för henne?"
Ivy blinkade. "Ursäkta?"
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"Varför skulle du behöva köpa mat?"
"För att äta?" Varför var detta en fråga?
Ivy skakade på huvudet. "Francis kommer att insistera på att laga mat åt dig också. Det ingår i din hyra."
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Det fanns inte en chans att hennes hyra skulle täcka lokalerna och måltiderna. Vad var det här för spel, att ta in den stackars flickan? Hennes stolthet spetsade sig och hon önskade att hon hade råd med det.
Ivy gav henne ett vänligt leende och gick närmare. "Här är sanningen. Vi behöver egentligen ingen rumskamrat för att täcka utgifterna."
"Det menar du inte," sa Cassia med en dödlig röst.
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"Jag vill betala." Även om hennes ynka hyra bara täckte kostnaden för golvvax hade hon uppfostrats att bidra.
"Då är det här perfekt." Ivy klappade i händerna. "Dessutom gillar jag dig redan, och det är för sent att skaffa ett nytt ställe innan lektionerna börjar på måndag. Så som tur är får du stanna hos oss."
"Fast i en fin herrgård. Jag antar att jag kan klara mig." Cassia skrattade och knuten i hennes mage lossnade, bara lite.
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"Självklart. Tack så mycket för att du hyrde ut rummet till mig." Oavsett Ivys skäl var Cassia tacksam för ett hem, även om det bara var tillfälligt.
"Varsågod. Ses vi senare?"
"Jag kommer att vara här."
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Cassia väntade tills Ivy hade gått ut ur köket innan hon drog in ett långt andetag. På sin utandning skrattade hon. "Herregud. Hur kan det här hända?"
Hon fick vända sig om två gånger innan hon hittade foajén. Hennes hand var utsträckt efter ytterdörrens handtag när den trycktes upp och Geoff kom in med en av hennes resväskor i handen.
"Åh, jösses. Det hade du inte behövt göra. Men tack." Hon ryckte den ur hans grepp. "Du behöver inte hjälpa till. Jag klarar av det."
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"Eh ..." Hon rusade förbi honom till bakluckan på Honda och lastade på så många väskor som hon kunde spänna över axlarna. Hennes lungor brann när hon hade dem i sitt rum och hon gick över Geoff med den sista lasten.
"Om det är allt kan du parkera ditt fordon på parkeringen bakom huset", sade han och ställde ner den sista resväskan.
"Visst." Hennes bröstkorg var tung när hon nickade. "Tack."
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Om Geoffs kalla axel var det värsta av hennes problem skulle hon klara sig bra.
Cassia skyndade sig till sin bil och följde uppfarten runt herrgården till platsen där sex garageplatser var stängda. Hon parkerade utanför och låste dörrarna på Honda:n - hennes pappas Honda - och önskade att den inte var så malplacerad. Sedan skyndade hon sig till sitt sovrum och arbetade snabbt med att packa upp.
Förutom sina kläder och toalettartiklar hade hon bara tagit med sig en bärbar dator, tre böcker och en handfull foton. När hon hängde upp sin sista tröja på en galge av trä tog hon ett steg tillbaka och undersökte den enorma klädkammaren. Den hade byggts för en designergarderob, med hyllor och lådor och stänger i flera kilometer. Allt hon hade att erbjuda den var fynd från secondhandbutiker och jeans från lågprisbutiker.

En känsla av sorg fyllde henne, men hon sköt den åt sidan och stängde sina tomma resväskor och lade dem i ett hörn innan hon gick till sovrummet.
Ett steg genom garderobsdörren och hon stannade till.
En kvinna satt på sängen. Hennes svarta hår hängde i slanka, glänsande paneler ner till midjan. Hon måste vara i Cassias ålder, men fräknarna över näsryggen och den lilla ramen fick henne att verka yngre. Förutom att det inte fanns något ungdomligt över hennes mörka ögon. De gav henne en udd. Det gjorde också den tomma blicken i hennes vackra ansikte.
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"Eh, hej? Vem är du?"
"Elora." Hon uttalade ordet som om det var självklart.
"Åh, självklart." Cassia slappnade av och vinkade. "Trevligt att träffas. Jag heter Cassia."
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"Ursäkta mig?"
"Kandidaten. Till prövningarna."
"Prövningar?" Vad i helvete är den här tjejen på? "Du menar som i skolan? Tester? Kallar ni dem prövningar på Aston?"
Elio)rNa sQkak)aRde på RhYu.vude$ta. T"Nej."
Cassia väntade, förväntade sig mer av en förklaring, men Elora erbjöd ingen. Bara samma tomma uttryck.
"Nåväl ... det här har varit roligt." Hon tvingade fram ett leende. "Men det är bäst att jag packar upp färdigt. Jag är säker på att vi kommer att ses senare. Ha en trevlig eftermiddag."
Det fanns en skärpa i hennes ton. Inte det bästa sättet att tala till en ny rumskamrat, men hon var utmattad och hade ingen lust att spela denna märkliga lilla lek.
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Och jag tror att du är galen. "Super."
"Du kanske är den som klarar det, Cassia."
"Gör vad? Försöken? Är det din grej? Som en uppvaktning för att få bo här?"
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Cassias huvud började snurra. "V-vad?"
"Ett gott råd", sa Elora. "Hon är van att få sin vilja igenom. Låt henne inte vinna. Det blir mycket mer underhållande om ni ger er i kast med henne."
Utan ytterligare ett ord gick Elora genom rummet, hennes steg var fulla av elegans och balans. Ljudet av hennes klackar på träplankan kunde inte mäta sig med Cassias hjärtslag.
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Inte en chans. Ivy hade verkat så uppriktig och söt. Detta måste vara ett skämt. Rädslan skvalpade i hennes ådror. Knuten i hennes mage vred sig hårdare än någonsin.
Så varför hade hon den här känslan att hon just hade bytt ett helvete mot ett annat?