In the midst of war and chaos, Eve struggles to find and keep her true love - but also herself.
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Eve and Regulus desperately wish to find their way out of their siblings' shadows - but they might just find that the darkness is the best place to be...
"Sometimes I wonder why you weren't in Slytherin, you know. Ambition, it drums in your ears, and I can tell just by the look on your face - it will be the end of you, no matter how many empires you topple to the ground."
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Dearest Lyn,
Thank you for your last letter; we are so glad your studies are going well. I know quite well how much trouble Ancient Runes can be, and I'm proud of you for pushing through.
Your brother has sent us a letter recently. He's incredibly concerned for your well being, and after reading it I am cautious as well. The Lestrange's are bad news, and you more than anyone know what the Black's are capable of. I'm disappointed, and I - both of us - are scared for you and this path you seem to be going down.
James says you have been ignoring him. I never had a sibling, so I can't truly understand, but tough times are coming, Lyn, and you need to be united now more than ever. Apologize to your brother, and he will forgive you gladly.
EVE SLAMMED THE LETTER down, hard, on the coffee table in front of her. She wanted to burn it, to set her mother's infuriating words on fire and watch them burn until they're little more than ash in the wind.
She pointed her finger at the paper and muttered "Incendio,", voice shaking in muted rage, and watched with curious surprise as the letter lit up. The red tones of the flame went entirely against the dark green of the Slytherin common room, and she almost laughed.
"That bad?" Regulus asked quietly. He was seated on the armchair next to her, lounging in a mix of laziness of natural grace, and Eve felt herself captivated for a long moment as she stared at him from the light of her fire; his silver-grey eyes blazed, and he impatiently swept away a lock of pure black hair as it fell into his face.
She shook her head internally and hoped no one could noticed how pink her cheeks were as she responded. "No," she lied, "Everything's fine."
He tilted his head at her. "Evie, you just set fire wandlessly and wordlessly."
Eve smiled, ducking her head. She didn't respond, though, just turned back around and watched as the letter slowly crumpled into something unrecognizable.
She felt like she was that letter. Something almost-loved and destroyed, ruined, with one motion of anger and grief and concern, twisting into some altered version. It was strange; she had friends now, a greater number and a group with more loyalty and true care for her than she'd ever had before, but still - she felt like she was broken. Like she was ripping at the seams, cracking into a million tiny pieces until no one could possibly put her back together again.
