Chapter Two
709 Words
Many months ago…
The moon hung low and full, casting its silver gaze through the narrow window of the cloister. Inside, the room was cloaked in shadows, save for the soft glow that danced across Sister Marilyn’s face. Her silver eyes shimmered like twin mirrors of the moon itself, cold and unreadable.
She took a long drag from her cigarette, the ember flaring briefly in the dark. Smoke curled from her lips like a whispered secret. In the temple, smoking was forbidden. But Marilyn had never cared for rules. She had lived too long, seen too much, and buried more than her share of sins.
She sat alone, as always. No friends. No allies. Only whispers and wary glances followed her through the halls. The few who dared speak to her did so out of fear or ambition hoping to curry favor with the eldest nun’s enigmatic favorite.
Politics. That’s all it ever was.
She exhaled slowly, watching the smoke drift toward the ceiling. Maybe it was the weight of the children she had to protect. Or maybe it was the knowledge that no one dared question her, not even the ones who feared her most.
Her door was always locked. So when she felt the shift in the air behind her, she didn’t flinch.
He was here.
The only one of her children she couldn’t scent.
The black sheep.
She didn’t turn. She didn’t need to. She could feel the storm brewing behind her. The tension. The rage.
“I found her,” he said at last, his voice low and tight.
Marilyn didn’t move. She took another drag, her eyes still fixed on the moon.
“You knew,” he added, this time with venom.
She shrugged, unimpressed.
Behind her, his fury ignited. Claws burst from his fingers, slicing into his own palm as he clenched his fists. Blood dripped onto the stone floor.
“How dare you,” he hissed.
Still, Marilyn remained calm. The air around her shimmered with quiet power.
“You knocked her up the moment you found her,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “How predictable. How… disgusting.”
He began to pace, his boots thudding against the floor. His rage was palpable, but he kept it leashed. He had to. He knew better than to challenge her.
“She is mine,” he growled.
“I never said she wasn’t.”
He waited for more. But Marilyn was a fortress, silent, impenetrable.
“I’m taking her with me,” he said flatly.
“No,” she replied, flicking ash onto the windowsill.
“What?”
“You heard me. I won’t risk her life. Or the pup’s.”
“I can protect them,” he snapped. “They’re mine.”
“You can’t,” she said, finally turning to face him.
He averted his gaze. He knew better than to meet her eyes.
“Out there, they’ll be hunted. Like the others. Like all the children we’ve lost.”
“So what then?” he spat. “Hide? Cower in the shadows like you?”
Marilyn’s expression darkened. She dropped the cigarette, crushing it beneath her heel.
“This is my home,” she said, voice low and dangerous. “I belong here. I’ve earned that right a thousand times over.”
He laughed bitterly. “Here? Among the ones who butcher our kind? You call that belonging?”
“You forget,” she said, stepping closer, “who gave her to you in the first place.”
His head snapped up.
“I’ve watched over her since before you even knew her name. I made her yours. I’ve kept her safe. Everything I do is for a reason. So don’t you dare question me.”
He said nothing. He couldn’t.
“You should’ve stayed away,” she said, her voice soft now. “If you truly wanted to protect her.”
He frowned, trying to decipher her words. But as always, Marilyn spoke in riddles, truths wrapped in shadows.
To ease her conscience, he realized.
He turned and left without another word, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
And as he walked away, he couldn’t help but wonder...
Was knowing her a blessing?
Or a curse?
- Writer
