THE FIRST RULE taught to all Nox Stellata members is this: do no wrong to your family.
How ironic it is that the one who made that rule is the one who wronged her.
For Genesis, not Maisie, the bonds between the assassins living in the manor had never been by blood, but by circumstance. Father had been a title akin to boss or employer and the word grandfather had never been in her vocabulary.
Do no wrong to your family, Genesis, he said, staring down at the broken child with those unnerving silver eyes, the chain tying them all together. You don't want to face the consequences, trust me.
Trust him. Isn't that what she had been doing this entire time? Unknowingly, blindingly, wholeheartedly?
Do no wrong to your family, Genesis.
Orion Nox — father, grandfather, assassin, thief, liar — has a blood debt to pay.
And Maisie Nox — daughter, granddaughter, assassin, kingslayer, kinslayer — is the collector.
Or you'll have to pay the price.
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THE MANOR IS eerily quiet upon her final return.
The silence hangs heavily in the stale air, even more so than usual, sending chills down her spine. The manor seems to be deserted, devoid of all her sisters, although she has a feeling Orion is still lingering here, perhaps waiting for her.
Just standing in the foyer has memories rushing back to her, all accompanied by an almost dreamlike quality. Everything she has learned has changed her perception regarding this place and the family. She's not sure what's even real anymore — who is she really, now that Selene has been wrenched away from her? Who is Orion, now that his facade has been uncovered?
The paintings hanging proudly on the walls remind her of her teenage years, of shadowing Orion's only living daughter, Betelgeuse. Her aunt, Maisie now realizes. Betelgeuse is an artist, the one who brightened the manor with her creations. The woman is as skillful with a paintbrush as she is with a blade. Maisie had spent too many of her waking hours carefully observing her aunt at work. Watching as the charcoal pencil in a calloused hand flew across paper, as fists made contact with cheekbones and skin and left behind bruises and blood.
Maisie never understood her fascination with Betelgeuse. But now she has an idea — was it her seeking out her blood, her family, wanting to make that connection? She had spent enough time with Orion but he wasn't her mother's sister, someone closer to her than Orion was. Did a small part of her know?
She has always had a convoluted sense of what family actually means. Having spent fifteen years thinking her family betrayed her and left her to die, it was enough to put her off the idea forever. There was a reason why she never accepted the other girls as her sisters and Orion as a father figure.
Well, she thinks bitterly, I was right this entire time. My family did betray me — too bad it wasn't the ones I murdered.
What a fucking joke she is. A puppet that never stood a chance against it's master. A single strand in an intricate web of lies. She doesn't even know where the story begins — Rigel's death? Her birth? Selene's kidnapping? When exactly did Orion concoct his plan, his revenge scheme that included his own granddaughter brutally murdering her father?
Her earliest memories start at the age of five, that much she knows for sure. What happened before that is something only Orion can reveal.
And it's sure to be one hell of a revelation.
✦ ✦ ✦
AGE FIVE
HER BODY FEELS heavy and her eyes are glued shut.
Her ears pick up a sound in the background, hidden behind the faint buzzing around her skull, an incessant beep beep beep. Her mind pulls up a word — machine — but she's not sure what kind of machine it is. Things are sticking into her arms, her mouth opens to let out a silent cry, everything is jumbled and she's so confused.
Where is she?
Who is she?
Another noise accompanies the beeping, a door opening and then slowly shutting, the hinges creaking. Footsteps, the muffled movement of clothing, the sheets on her bed crinkling as the person sits on her bed. Her eyes open just a fraction.
"Wake up child," a deep voice says and goosebumps rise on her arms. It's unfamiliar and cold, like something out of a nightmare. She lets out a soft whimper.
"Look at me," he demands and she listens. Her vision is blurry at first; the person beside her is large and frightening, and as her eyes focus, he looks even more intimidating. His features are arranged into a scowl, his silver eyes are glittering with something evil, and she pushes back into the bed to get as far away as possible.
She manages to croak out a rough, "who are you?"
The man only stares, eyes roaming over her face, but his expression never changes. Until, after a tense moment, he smiles and it's so warm that it transforms everything. So brilliant that she thinks she imagined everything she saw before. "Who are you?"
Her sudden trust in this man, this stranger, comes from nowhere. "I don't know."
His grin widens and this is the moment where the story actually begins. "I can tell you who you are, little one. Little Selene."
✦ ✦ ✦
