The Third Veil

By Heather Carter

Two halves, one soul… Can Seven find it within her battered heart and fractured soul to trust in love once more?

After working her life as a servant in her abusive mother’s cathouse, Seven Ponds dares to dream of a future with the local farmer who stole her heart. But when her home is engulfed in flames, and the fire claims the life of her first love, she struggles against the grief consuming her.

When a strange mechanical device in the sky and terrifying shadow creatures appear, her town is thrust into an unnatural winter signaling the end of the world. Discovering secrets of an ancient past, Seven is thrown through a mysterious veil into a new world… a world full of magic.

Tasked with saving the world, and her mother, Seven stumbles along her fated path, finding it filled with monsters in beautiful disguise, passionate love from an unexpected soulmate, and bitter betrayal.

Can Seven work through her grief and anxiety to save Earth before it’s devoured by the Aldaanians? Or will she crumble beneath the weight of the world sitting atop her shoulders?


Note:
This book contains themes of sexual trauma and suicide.
It is intended for readers 18+.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: Jun 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094458748

Heather Carter

Heather Carter is an independent fiction author who writes primarily adult fantasy and fantasy romance. Her novel, Of Songs and Saltwater, a loose, gender-swapped retelling of The Little Mermaid was released in June of 2021, and she has been featured in multiple anthologies since. She has written several other novels that are in her publishing pipeline. (Look for those soon!) Heather calls the St. Louis area home, and lives with her husband, two children and one extremely spoiled cat. (What writer doesn’t?) When she’s not writing, she loves to read fantasy novels, make music, and drinks way too much coffee.

Book preview

1

E

choing words replayed in my head.

Do not trust the three-headed dragon. Run with the moon. The phoenix will show you what you seek.

The events of the previous night still haunted me as my boots tapped along the cobblestone in the brisk, late October air. I brushed an errant dark curl from my face and shivered in the only coat I owned. Serena, the most lavished courtesan at our house of night, had passed it down to me. It was too thin for chilly, English winters. I was cold, tired, and pale. Dark circles hung under my eyes, as I had not slept well, for fear the creatures would return.

No one, not even Daisy herself recalled the words she’d spoken so clearly to me, nor the strange and terrifying slip of reality when the tall, faceless shadow figures made their appearance. One moment, Daisy had been ill in bed, and the next, she’d grabbed my arm, pointed at the figures, and uttered those chilling, nonsensical words. I was still panicking after they left, after the light and warmth rushed back into the room, but I was the only one to remember.

After getting very odd looks, I had dropped the subject, thoughts of the madhouse repeating over and over in the back of my mind. Daisy was the one who saw things—ghosts and ghouls haunting our home and place of employment. We all knew it, but we didn’t talk about it. No one else ever saw anything… until last night. Until I saw.

I tried not to think about it as I walked past the church, tall, white, and ever pious. For polite society, it was the Lord’s Day, but the last time I had attended the sole church in Baden, our small, sleepy town, the upturned noses and horrified whispers were enough to shame me out the back door for good. My ilk was too sullied for pristine pews, even if I was only a servant and not a prostitute. Everyone knew—to be associated with The Silk House, the infamous brothel of Swift Street, was to have a cold, black stain that could never wash away.

The closest I got to things of heaven was listening to Charlie Foster sing hymns with his clear, strong voice as he pitched hay into the horse stalls. I spent most of my days off with him at his small farm just outside of town, where he lived with his widowed father. With no care to what people thought, they had never darkened the doors of a church as long as they’d lived in our community.

I’d been listening to Charlie since we were children. He grew from a wiry little boy with dark eyes too large for his olive face into a man cut from the cloth of something divine. Tall, broad shoulders, hair black as night, and a smile that could outshine the sun. If not for his lack of fortune, he would’ve had a trail of high-society females always trotting after him, waving their delicate little handkerchiefs. As it was, I had little stake in such things. At twenty-four, I was as good as confirmed as a spinster.

Watching him now from his barn door, I drank in every sweet note that emanated from his full lips. After the constant bombardment of debauchery, and especially the horror of the previous night, his song was like a healing balm to my bruised soul.

Charlie Foster was my church.

He did not notice me until I opened my mouth and sang with him, my higher harmony melting with his rich tones. Without ceasing, Charlie glanced in my direction and continued his work with a smile in his eyes. I picked up a bucket of oats and began feeding the horses as we sang in perfect harmony together, our song rising through the barn roof and into the heavens.

After most of the work was done, we climbed up into the loft, lazing in the hay, as was our custom, eating the sweets I’d swiped from Meg’s massive stash.

I mulled over the scary experience from the previous night, trying to think of how to broach the subject. At least half a dozen times, I opened my mouth to confess, but then I saw his content, carefree smile, and closed it. He knew my darkness and every fear, and I could trust him with my life. But this day was a good day with Charlie. I couldn’t bring myself to taint it with talk of monsters. Not yet. I decided to savor his smile a little longer.

You know, I think we’re doing a service to Meg, said Charlie, biting off a piece of honey taffy. Too much candy can’t be a good thing for her.

Yes, I’m sure if she ever found out, she’d thank me. Maybe even give me a raise. I threw him a wink and sank my teeth into one of the lemon cookies.

Charlie snorted. You mean start paying you an actual wage instead of injuries?

His words stung a bit, but they were honest, as always. I winced as I pulled my sleeve a little lower over my wrapped, aching wrist. I hated Meg. She’d injured my wrist over a minor infraction the day prior. One of many injuries I’d borne because of her wrath over the years. She ran an impossibly tight ship for a bawd. And no shred of compassion for her only child.

Someday, I’d be free of her. She was all the blood family I had left in the world, but my heart held no love for her. It held more love for people like Daisy, a fellow servant who’d practically raised me.

I picked through the hay at my side. That’ll never happen. I guess I really can’t complain about a place to live, though.

Charlie’s brows drew together. I can’t stand to see your own mother treat you like that.

One could hardly consider Meg a mother, but… it beats the workhouse. For now.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Or the streets. You know they fished some girl out of the river in Stratsburg last week? Blue and black and all bloated—

I jammed an elbow into his rib and scolded him as he howled in pain.

That’s disgusting! Ugh!

Chuckling, Charlie managed a hoarse reply. That’s right. I forgot about your delicate sensibilities. Proper Queen Victoria, you are.

"Oh, I’m delicate, am I? A handful of hay launched at his face, sticking to the taffy he was about to consume. How many ‘delicate’ females would shovel stalls and climb rickety barn ladders to gossip with you? With the rats and spiders up here?" A shudder of disgust hunched my shoulders.

Selecting another taffy, Charlie carefully unwrapped it, keeping a wary eye on me. A twisted grin etched his face as he took a bite and tucked a hand behind his head.

I don’t know. I’ve had a few girls enjoy the hay with me.

First, I smiled. Then, I giggled. Before I could compose myself, a full-out fit of laughter seized me. Rolling, I laughed until I was red in the face.

What? What’s so funny? he asked, sitting up with wounded pride.

Catching my breath and my wits, I wiped my streaming eyes and tried not to laugh again. He was pouting like a child.

Are you talking about Tina? That two-bit ninny from Adler, who checked herself into the nunnery afterward?

His eyes narrowed, sending me into another fit of giggles, remembering the way she’d chased and thrown herself at him relentlessly, only to take a different kind of veil after she finally got her chance.

Or perhaps Adelaide? I continued with a sly grin. She was the one who was obsessed with your singing, right? The blonde?

This broke the pout, and he snorted. Oh, her! God, I had nearly forgotten about her wretched singing voice. It sounded like a dying rabbit.

I shoved his arm. Charlie Foster! What a cruel thing to say!

He quirked a brow and crossed his arms. Oh?

I tried to remain serious. Yes… she surely couldn’t have sounded any worse than a dying cow.

Yes, well, it’s the hay, you know. He winked with a wicked grin.

Oh, of course, I said gruffly with an exaggerated wink.

We stared at each other for the space of five seconds before I imitated a dying cow. Dissolving into fits of laughter, we threw hay at each other and made animal noises, laughing even harder when the horses below whinnied in response.

When at last our sides ached and tears streamed from our eyes, we lay in the straw, catching our breath. This was what I needed. Charlie always knew how to make me laugh, even on the worst days.

I tossed another piece of candy at Charlie with a smile. He returned the smile, even as something more somber clouded his expression.

Yes, all good fun, but… I was actually thinking about you.

The quiet, even words instantly killed my contented joy. The air stilled. I froze, feeling his too-serious eyes on me. Charlie was rarely serious.

A heavy feeling formed as I rolled away from him, tucking an arm under my head and hugging my stomach with the other. Why did he have to bring it up? Why couldn’t this just be a carefree day?

You know we agreed not to talk about it.

Charlie sighed and tossed his candy. Yeah, I know.

Sitting up, I fought the urge to raise my voice. Then, why bring it up? It’s done and in the past. Forget it already.

His eyes met mine, full of longing. I’ve tried. I can’t.

Warmth flooded my cheeks and rushed downward as my heart hammered against my ribs at the surfacing of a memory. Our bodies entwined on a cold, rainy evening… his heat mingling with my tears of grief. A surge of unbridled passion that had come out of nowhere during the lowest moment of my life.

It was right after…

I stood, fighting my darkening mind. Shaking, I stepped over to the open-air window overlooking the rolling pastures. Dark, gray clouds blotted out the sun, whipping the biting autumn wind into my face. Chills chased down my spine. Blacks and browns had replaced the green landscape, with some rebellious colorful orange and yellow leaves hanging on until the very last moment. I tried to focus on those colors. Anything to keep me from slipping.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it too, I confessed distantly. You were… the only good thing about that day. But I was not… well. You know that. That day, it— A lump rose in my throat, cutting off my words.

I couldn’t pull my coat tight enough around my shoulders. Nothing could prevent the violent shudder that ran through me. The memory of my father’s unseeing eyes and the blood gathering around his twisted body at the bottom of the cellar stairs flashed through my mind’s eye unbidden, sending a wave of nausea through me that I forced down with a hard swallow.

The familiar rush hit before I could stop it, and it became difficult to breathe. Tingling numbness spread, no matter how hard I tried to fight it. My heart pounded in my ears, and my veins coursed with a rising fire. The room tilted as I gripped the ledge of the window.

No, not now…

Charlie…

Seeing me sway, Charlie grabbed the blanket we’d been laying on and wrapped it tightly around my shoulders before banding his muscular arms around me. Hyperventilating, I let my eyes close as my head dropped back against his shoulder. He lowered me to the ground until I was sitting against him. Beads of sweat formed on my brow.

Keeping deep pressure through his arms, he began the routine.

You’re okay… just focus on my voice… breathe… and breathe… and breathe…

His voice sounded muddled, as if it were underwater. The sounds of screaming and crying flooded my mind like a dark echo, replaying that awful day. The smells, the scenes, the fear… The barn faded away like smoke.

I was back in the dormitory, the last person rising in the early afternoon after working through the night. A quick pain shot through my head as if something impaled clean through. Dropping to my knees, I cried out and clutched it. As the minutes ticked by, the pain never returned. Carefully, I inspected my hands for blood, and even checked in the small mirror near my bed for signs of injury. Nothing. A relief, but my nerves remained on edge as I dressed quickly in the cavernous room. Meg would whip me if I were even a moment late.

A scream ripped through the house—one that shook the walls and the bones of all within. I knew at once that something terrible awaited below. Tearing down the back stairs, I descended each level with lightning speed, following the sounds of the horrified cries. Even before I reached the top of the musty cellar stairs, I knew in my heart what I’d find.

Marge tried to block me from going down there, pleading with me to turn around, not to look. I shoved her aside with inhuman strength and flew down the stairs, where blood and death greeted me. My father, gone forever. My own scream filled my ears until they felt as if they would burst.

2

P

ulling me from visions of the past, there was that familiar link to the present via the tight, warm pressure around my arms, and the gentle voice in my ear that repeated the magic mantra.

And breathe… and breathe… you’re okay… I’m here…

The mantra worked its magic and gradually soothed my soul. The barn filtered back into view. Wind still whistled through the window above us, yet I felt nothing but warmth. And safety.

Resting his chin on my head, Charlie rocked us ever so slightly, as if I were a child awoken from a nightmare. Any other time, I might’ve taken offense, but not now. Not when the nightmares had truly come. I melted into him, relishing in his grounding presence.

You haven’t had one of these in a while. His voice was quiet but reverberated through my back like a gentle hum. I shook my head, gazing across the room.

I hate this. What is wrong with me, Charlie? Am I mad? I half-sobbed.

No, of course you’re not mad.

I leaned into him and hugged his arms. You’re the only one who knows how to bring me out. I get stuck there. Stuck in the dark.

Charlie exhaled, and his lips pressed into my hair. I’m so sorry, Sev. This is my fault. I should never have brought that day up—

Stop, Charlie, don’t blame yourself, please. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you, I said, craning my head back just enough to look up at him.

Our gazes linked, and my heart swelled in my chest. His eyes were endless pools of rich brown, like the earth he worked day in and day out. The flecks of green and gold that rimmed his expanding pupils were beautiful jewels that drew me in. It had been a while since we had been this close—close enough for his breath to mingle with mine. And he was there, holding me in his arms as if I were the only woman in the world.

His eyes flicked down to my lips, and I lifted my chin slightly, wondering what it would be like to taste him again. It’d been such a long time, but I recalled the addicting sweetness, and the way he devoured me. I remembered the weight of his body on top of mine, keeping me from falling apart while we sought each other with an uncontrollable fire.

The longer he looked at me now, the brighter the ember blazed.

Just when I thought he would kiss me, he smiled briefly and gave me a slight squeeze before loosening his grip. I immediately grabbed his arms.

Please, don’t let go. Not yet.

Pausing in consideration, Charlie wrapped his arms around me fully, pulling me into him. Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, savoring the feeling and sinking into the surrounding security. My head nestled in the crook of his shoulder, drawing in warmth. His familiar, woodsy scent surrounded me like an intoxicating cologne. This was what I needed above all else.

Softly, he hummed a song, his beautiful voice filling my ears and thrumming through my bones like a powerful spell. I relaxed and let my thoughts float along with the melody.

I don’t think I know that hymn, I said with a grin.

His song trailed off. That’s because it’s not a hymn.

Hmm?

It’s a love song.

My eyes fluttered open, the smile fading away. I didn’t dare move a muscle, my pulse quickening. I could sense his gaze drop to me, even as I kept my eyes trained forward, unsure of how to respond.

Oh? was my squeaked reply.

I felt his heart pound, and he loosed a shuddering breath. I braced my nerves for what was to come.

Seven, I’ve been thinking… His thumb gently stroked my arm. I want to make new memories with you.

I turned myself enough to meet his eyes once more. They shone with complete sincerity and warmth. He smiled slightly and continued.

"We can make better ones. We don’t have to let the past poison the future… our future, Sev." Tenderly, Charlie brushed a lock of dark hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. My breath hitched at his touch.

A sweet sense of joy swelled in my chest. This differed from the raw need that had overtaken us that fateful night. My whole body felt like it could melt into his, wrapped in his arms. The thought of a future with Charlie had once scared me when I was broken and raw with grief, but now it filled me with indescribable hope.

I dared to let myself dream big in those moments. I saw a life without Meg tormenting me—one where I wasn’t the scorn of society. Someday, I might be a respectable woman, a farmer’s wife, who worked alongside a husband who valued her. Maybe even have children of my own that would never know what it’s like to be mistreated.

Dare I hope?

The light in his eyes spoke of only beautiful promises and affection.

Charlie, I whispered, I don’t know what to say—

Then say nothing. His hand slid along my cheek as he dipped his head. Our lips met in a needful embrace.

It caught me by surprise, but I gave no resistance as he pulled me closer and deepened the kiss. A thrill swept through me, and I thought I might burst. Blazing warmth rushed downward, pooling in my lower belly.

When he backed away just enough to rest his forehead on mine, I couldn’t stop the smile that lit across my face. The corner of his mouth lifted as his gaze flooded with desire. Flooded both of us.

Scales fell from my eyes at that moment. I wanted him. Needed him. And I had for a long time. All those lazy Sundays by his side in the hay, and then counting down the days to when I’d return. That pang of jealousy I couldn’t admit to when he talked of other girls. And the way the room lit up when he smiled at me. How he knew me better than myself.

The way he looked at me now sent waves of heat coursing through me. I felt it… a craving. Soft, dark eyes looked into my soul, pulling me into their beautiful depths. It all came back to me—the urge to taste him again, to have his hands and lips all over my body as he claimed me.

My breath quickened in anticipation, and he drew his mouth near once again to seek mine. We exploded into a flurry of passion. He devoured me with his kiss, pressing his body into me as I linked my arms around his neck. Cool air met my skin when he hitched up my skirts, but warmth quickly replaced the chill as he ran his rough hands up my legs, teasing between my thighs.

When I lowered back onto the hay, he pinned me down and gripped my knees, bringing them on either side of his hips. A deep groan rumbled in his chest, and his lips left mine to travel over my jawline, dragging over my throat.

Sev… I’ve wanted you for so long… He kissed the spot just below my ear, his tongue sliding over my skin. I dream about us every night.

A deep sigh escaped me as I relished in his touch. You do?

Pausing his ministrations on my neck, he lifted his head to gaze deeply into my eyes. It’s only ever been you I dream of. No one holds a candle to you.

Tears leaped to my eyes. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. I traced my fingers over his beautiful face, drinking in every line and plane. He smiled softly and pressed a lingering kiss to my lips. My heart swelled.

Show me, Charlie, I whispered, lazily drawing lines down the side of his torso. Show me what you dream of.

He hummed in agreement and hungrily kissed me again. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was about to happen.

Briefly, I opened my eyes. Something black caught in my peripheral vision.

A scream ripped from me, and the haze of desire vanished. There, across the loft, loomed three hulking shadow figures. I pushed him off me and scrambled back against the wall, shrieking hysterically.

What? What is it? cried Charlie, whipping his head around in confusion.

He did not see the monsters right in front of him. I could only scream and squeeze my eyes shut, completely terrified.

Charlie called my name and tried to pull me back into his arms. I clamped onto his forearms and stopped him, shaking my head.

Don’t you see them? I cried out. Don’t you see? They’re right…

My words faded off as I dared another look, and the figures disappeared in the blink of an eye. In shock, I stared at the space where they’d been, not believing what I was seeing, or not seeing. They’re gone.

With a frustrated sigh, Charlie pursed his lips. Seven Ponds, what is going on?

My gaze slid to his confused face, even as I struggled to take a full breath. Charlie, something terrible happened last night.

What do you—

The sound of alarm bells clanging from town cut his words off. Distant cries of panic arose, immediately drawing our attention.

In a flash, hushed confessions were pushed aside, and we flew down the ladder and raced across the field toward town. Dread descended. Black, acrid smoke billowed in the distance, wafting on the breeze as we drew closer. Once we hit the town streets, it was utter pandemonium. People rushed in a common direction, and they caught us up in the current.

What’s happening? What’s going on? I demanded of those around me, but no replies came over the din. Charlie held my hand with an iron grip and tugged me along.

Whatever was happening, it was bad—very bad. My eyes stung, and I already felt the heat emanating from around the corner. Cries for more water rose like a chorus.

When at last we half-stumbled into the open square, my jaw slackened to see flames licking the church steeple with a raging inferno devouring the building below. Water doused the fire from buckets and hoses but had little more effect than if they’d simply spat on them. The horrified screams of the bystanders and those of the injured congregants nearby blended into a giant roar that competed with that of the flames. At least two dozen men, women, and children were being hauled away on blankets and stretchers and loaded onto carts. Not all of them were still in need of care. The stench of burned flesh singed my nose, and I turned away, covering my mouth with my shawl.

It was then that the real horror set in. A primal scream tore from my throat as I violently shoved people aside and spat curses at all who would not yield.

There, across the square, and five buildings down, The Silk House was in flames.

3

O

nce I broke from the choked throngs of townspeople, my legs pumped as hard as humanly possible. Only a small crowd gathered outside my home as the flames licked out the windows. It was one of the largest buildings in town, tall, midnight blue with black shutters. Dark, sultry, and opposing—it was the only home I’d ever known.

People were running past me in the wrong direction. I shouted at them for help, begging them to turn around and save The Silk House. The church was a lost cause. A fire wagon with its clanging bell zoomed by, missing me by a hair. I bowled right into a man, nearly knocking him over.

Watch where you’re going! he scolded, straightening his cap and hurrying away.

Wait! I cried, catching his arm. Please! Come help us! The Silk House is burning!

Face twisted in disgust, he shoved me roughly to the ground. Let it burn! You all deserve to burn, he growled before spitting on me.

I could only gape at him. The hatred in his eyes sent a shudder down my spine. Words my father had spoken to me as a child came echoing back.

People don’t like us, Sev. But we don’t have to mind.

The man turned to stalk away but met with a brutal right hook to the jaw. He fell like a tree to the cobblestones, out cold.

Arsehole! Charlie glowered over the man.

I leaped to my feet and grabbed his hand, tugging him along in a panic.

Sev! cried Matilda, one of The Silk House prostitutes. She threw her arms around me as I reached the front lawn. Her eye kohl mingled with soot and ran down her face in streaks. Oh, thank God! We thought you were in there!

The heat from the flames and the billowing smoke burned my eyes. Like dancing tendrils, the flames teased out of the front windows on the first and second floors, which had already shattered from the heat.

What happened? I asked, catching my breath.

Matilda shook her head, biting back tears. I don’t know. It all happened so fast.

Oh my God! Where is the fire brigade? Charlie cried, raking his hands through his hair as he gaped at the fire.

They’re all at the church, said Marge, our cook, bitterly, as she wiped away tears from her round face. No one cares about a few whores.

Stepping back, I did a quick survey of those around me. The number was far smaller than it should be. Several prostitutes in various stages of dress and dazed servants huddled together, shivering and comforting each other. Some were tending the wounded laying on the sidewalks. The blaze transfixed Daisy, who stood quietly off by herself. Among the missing was Meg, our brooding guard, Frank, and…

Oh God, no…

I seized Matilda’s arms. Matilda, where is Betsy?

Betsy? I don’t know. I thought she was off with that bloke of hers. It’s her day off, isn’t it?

Horror flooded me.

We switched! We switched days, Matilda! I cried, shaking her.

Matilda’s eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. What?

Charlie squeezed my shoulders. Calm down, Sev, we don’t—

She was cleaning the bathrooms. Third floor, sobbed Annie with sudden realization. I never saw her follow us down the stairs! She’s still up there! she shouted hysterically, motioning toward the upper windows.

Our attention leaped upward. The third-floor windows were still intact, though smoke was seeping from the small gaps around the sills.

It’s not engulfed yet… I murmured.

Without thinking, I threw off my shawl and wrapped my thin scarf around my lower face.

Wait, what are you doing? demanded Matilda and Charlie simultaneously.

I have to get her! I called, as I sprinted forward.

A chorus of horrified objections arose, and a split second later, Charlie’s arms grabbed me by the waist and dragged me back.

Let me go! I demanded, struggling against his hold. Other hands firmly gripped my arms.

You can’t go in there! scolded Marge. It’s not safe!

"I have to get Betsy! Let me go now!" I protested.

Seven, you are not going anywhere near that house, do you hear me? Charlie boomed in my face, his hands like stone on my shoulders.

His intimidation tactic did little to quell my desperation. I boomed right back.

The upper floor isn’t burning yet! There might still be time—

No! Absolutely not.

You don’t even know that! said Marge.

You don’t understand! I cried, shaking in frustration. It’s my fault she’s there! That was supposed to be me! I have to try! Please! Just let me try! A sob choked my words as I looked at Charlie with pleading eyes. Please… just let me go! Let me try. Charlie, please, let me go!

An eternity passed as we stared each other down in a battle of wills. My heart raged and screamed to be released. Why couldn’t they understand? Every passing moment, I knew those flames were climbing higher, consuming every bit of kindling it could find, like a wild, living thing with an insatiable appetite.

I could imagine Betsy—cowered in the bathroom’s corner, fighting for a sliver of air from the tiny window that was no better than a vent. Her heart broken at the thought of never setting eyes on the man she’d so quickly fallen for. Because of me. I couldn’t let that happen. No… not while there was still a chance.

Something broke in Charlie’s eyes, and tears pooled at the rims. He gave a small nod. I breathed a nervous sigh of relief, shaking off the hands holding my arms.

Where is she? he asked, his eyes still holding mine.

Up the back stairs to the top floor, down the hall to the right, if she’s still there, Marge said, pointing to the back of the house.

I nodded. I know this house like the back of my hand, I swear I’ll be—

Charlie’s hands wrapped around the back of my head and pulled me into a kiss so deep that it stopped time. Then, his eyes bore into mine with a weighted look that stole the air from my lungs.

I love you, Seven Ponds.

Before I could fully register what was happening, Charlie whirled around and took off like lightning. My heart crashed into my stomach when I saw him disappear around the back of the house.

Charlie! I cried, darting after him. Several women grabbed me and hauled me back. I fought against them and released a string of curses. Get your bloody hands off me!

He’s a damned fool, said Marge, tears streaming down her cheeks. But I’ll be damned myself if I let you follow!

I continued to protest until a hard slap stung my right cheek. Matilda towered before me, eyes blazing. I immediately shrank.

Enough, Sev! That’s enough! What are you going to do, huh? Run in there and try to drag her out when she’s twice your size? Run in there now and make two victims for him to haul out? Get a hold of yourself! You’re not the only one who’s scared half to death. You’re not the only one who’s losing their home and their friends right now. Stand down and shut the hell up because you are not going to play a goddamn martyr!

My jaw snapped shut in obedience. Matilda had never spoken that way before. It transformed her from a sultry plaything to a fearsome, fire-breathing goddess… and she was right. It killed me to admit it to myself.

I looked at the hordes of people gathered by the church, where the steeple had already collapsed. Three wagons from our fire brigade and the neighboring town still diligently doused the house of worship. The cries of the wounded and the heartbroken filtered down the street, even as we stood out in the cold, watching our home and place of employment burn. Not one man was willing to throw a bucket of water for us. Charlie was risking his life, that very moment. My heart burned with a sudden ire.

I hate them. I’ll never forgive them for this.

Matilda followed my glare and sighed. I know.

The ladies of The Silk House begged for help from passersby, only to be met with stares of disdain or ignored entirely. Men who frequented our establishment were nowhere to be seen. They didn’t dare lift a white-gloved finger to help the woman he’d worshiped the night before or anyone associated with them. We were truly worthless to them. But Father was wrong about one thing: I did have to mind. The man I loved was…

I froze.

Even I did not expect those words passing through my mind. He’d told me he loved me. I had been so frantic that I hadn’t registered what he’d said, much less respond.

Daisy cried out in terror. At once, a familiar, icy chill crept over