Where Dreams Descend - Janella Angeles Page 0,62

She almost barked out a laugh, but her throat was already too raw. The cool mask dropped from her face, shattering in rage. “That’s rich. And what makes you think I would ever go back, after everything?”

All of it flooded back in a heavy wave. Sanja. Mistress Verónn. Mari. Countless others she couldn’t recall but was sure existed, buried deep in her thoughts. A collection of ghosts, passing through her life because of him. Memories displaced, because of him.

“How … how many illusions did you put me through?”

It shouldn’t have mattered. Whatever he said would only be lies, and still, she searched for the truth in them. Anything to stop the horror of it all from clawing inside her. Filling every vein and vessel, weaving between her bones.

She kept the hurt from her voice, refusing to give it to him. But Jack knew, he always knew.

“Any person I’ve conjured is based on someone real. A projection of an acquaintance I’ve met before.” He leaned against the window, releasing a soft exhale. “Kallia, it wasn’t all pretend.”

“That’s not an answer.” The ghosts danced in her mind, laughing at her. “How many times have I tried to leave, and you wouldn’t let me?”

“It wasn’t like that—”

“How often have you lied to me and twisted my mind?” Heat smarted behind her eyes. “How many times have you gone to Glorian, and told me that I shouldn’t?”

At that, Jack fell still. For once, he looked like the prey, and nothing was more satisfying than to see it from the other side.

“There are things at play here that you do not understand,” he said, nostrils flaring. “Though clearly you wouldn’t believe me now, even if I told you.”

“And who’s to blame for that? You chose to lie. To deceive me again and again.” Kallia bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood, just to keep it from trembling. “Until I had nothing. Only what you wanted me to see.”

A cage. It was all she remembered of the House now. Not a home. A gilded place of false friends and stolen time. Any lingering fondness felt fabricated, a syrupy-sweet taste she tried ridding from her tongue, for none of it had been real. Just an act.

The worst part was, he had no remorse over it. Or if he did, he hid it well.

“I gave you all that I could.” Jack drew the words out after a long, chilling pause. “To keep you away from harm. From here.”

“To keep me away from anything at all,” she growled. “Don’t pretend like it would’ve stopped at Glorian, Jack. You would’ve done anything to keep me in that House. Just like your father.”

His eyes flashed. No longer cool and collected, but burning. “I gave you far more freedom than he ever did. And you stayed.”

She stayed, and she’d learn more. That was the deal set years ago. No iron and force in the arrangement. Though it was easy when her answer was yes. Had she refused, she wondered what the outcome would’ve been.

“You broke our deal the moment you used my mind against me.” The words tore from her like a curse. “Though, in a sick way, thank Zarose you did. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, right. Because of Spectaculore,” he said, lips thinned. “You hear a competition is in town, and suddenly it’s your destiny. And for what? Fame? Glory, attention—”

“What’s so wrong with wanting more? I got a taste of it tonight, and it was only the first show.”

“And who do you have to thank for that?” His brow arched. “You certainly didn’t learn all your tricks on your own. And you’re wasting it on a ruined city, a silly circus, and people who’d rather tear you down than throw roses at your feet.”

It wasn’t true.

She’d received so much praise, so many flowers, enough to wreath the hotel in spring. But that was tonight. Days’ worth of disdainful stares from the people of Glorian flickered back in her mind. From the judges and contestants, complete strangers who only saw what they didn’t like upon her arrival. She hadn’t forgotten. It wasn’t as if she’d believed making it here would be easy. Then again, she’d never anticipated how many people would also crave her failure.

No, she shook her head at herself.

It wasn’t true.

It wasn’t true.

“Better than swinging from chandeliers at the club every other night,” she muttered. “You honestly thought I would be content there for the rest of my life?”

“If you want more, I’ll give you

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