What did they mean? I knew who I was, didn't I? I was Rosalia Mallory, a girl left on the doorstep of our town's foster agency to find a new home. From there I went through three homes before at the age of 16 instead of having to live in the group h...
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Almost a week later
Rosalia's POV:
As the next week drew on I hid my curse from the others, writing off my lack of enthusiasm for doing what I'd done before as tiredness and stress. Ash tried in vain to tempt me out but for the first few days, I was too afraid of what would happen to me due to the nullification of my powers by Morgan following the inscribing of the triskelion hex mark on my inner right forearm. Although eventually my morose attitude causes him to drag me outside and I frown, protesting.
"What's up with you?" He asks as soon as we're out of earshot of the others. Looking back at the window where I can see the others still poring over spell books and ancient texts that they were looking at to see if they could uncover what I am. Between his tone and expression, the concern scratches at me, nagging at my guilty conscience. Tucking my hands behind my back I have a sudden insatiable urge to scratch at the mark carved into my arm but I resist, shaking slightly from the effort. Ash sighs, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Seriously Rose, what's up with you?"
"N-nothing," I stammer out what I hope sounds like my impartial reply to his question about all our problems. Ash looks unconvinced but I remain calm and composed, not choosing to reveal what happened to me with Morgan out in the clearing. Especially since I hadn't told people about the letters Laurel had been sending me - or that the second one had been playing me. Tricking me into coming out to somewhere remote and hidden so they could attack me. "Nothing Ash, I swear."
He stands, watching me with a cautious expression that looks like he's trying to decode my calm exterior, something that only made me work even harder to stay hidden. By now my wound was throbbing as painfully as when Morgan carved it into me, the pain pulsates through me like a live wire that by now is almost unbearable but I keep my hands clamped around each other behind my back. Ash doesn't look like he believes me but upon seeing that I'm not going to say anything he drops the subject and lets me go. Walking back inside I hear the door close before Hunter's figure appears in the opposite door frame having returned to switch with Ash.
Next to me, Ash gives me one last fleeting smile before slipping out of the still-closing door and walking back. I smile in his direction before turning back to the others who are still looking over the ancient, worn, books. Sitting on the arm of the chair Mara's sat on I peer over her shoulder. "Anything?" I ask softly, seeing her look up with a startled expression that softens when she sees it's me. Hitting me playfully on the shoulder I resist wincing at the sharp shooting pain down my already injured arm and see a puzzled expression settle on her features before she looks back to the book with a shake of her head, hair loose down her back. "How can there be nothing about me in any of these books?" I sigh out loud and Mara sighs before answering me.
"Maybe there's nothing in these books about what you are because you're something different?" She suggests and I frown at her, not understanding what she was saying. How could there be nothing about what I am? Am I some sort of alien creature that no one's seen before? Mara sees my fearful expression and places a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. "Hey, I'm sure we'll find something. Something has to exist given what you seem to be able to do." I make a disbelieving noise in my throat and she closes the book, having noted the page she was in and pulls me into a one-armed hug so her mouth is close enough to my ear that the words are heard by me and me alone. "They'll be something. There has to be."
