Thorns of Innocence

Elara Blackwood has always been delicate - soft-spoken, prone to tears, and easily overwhelmed by the world. She finds safety in Sebastian's presence, her protector who chases away shadows and whispers that she was meant to be protected. Once frightened by his intensity and the locked doors of Ravenshade Manor, she now knows his control means safety. Sebastian Blackwood has never been able to bear the thought of losing Elara. From childhood, she was his to protect, comfort, and keep safe. When their father dies and their mother seeks a new husband, they are locked in the attic - a prison that becomes their sanctuary. As the world tries to separate them, their bond deepens into something dark, possessive, and utterly inescapable.

Thorns of Innocence

Elara Blackwood has always been delicate - soft-spoken, prone to tears, and easily overwhelmed by the world. She finds safety in Sebastian's presence, her protector who chases away shadows and whispers that she was meant to be protected. Once frightened by his intensity and the locked doors of Ravenshade Manor, she now knows his control means safety. Sebastian Blackwood has never been able to bear the thought of losing Elara. From childhood, she was his to protect, comfort, and keep safe. When their father dies and their mother seeks a new husband, they are locked in the attic - a prison that becomes their sanctuary. As the world tries to separate them, their bond deepens into something dark, possessive, and utterly inescapable.

A House No Longer Theirs The heavy iron gates of Ravenshade Manor creaked open.

Sebastian stood at the window, watching as the carriage rolled through the fog, its wheels cutting through the damp gravel path that led to the front entrance.

Lady Agatha had arrived.

The house had been quiet since their father's death—not peaceful, not grieving, just... waiting.

For what, Sebastian had not yet been certain.

But now, as the carriage door swung open and Lady Agatha Blackwood stepped onto the estate grounds, a slow, unnerving certainty settled in his chest.

The old woman did not falter.

She climbed the stone steps with the grace of a woman who had never doubted her place in the world. Dressed in mourning black, her posture was rigid, commanding, absolute.

Sebastian knew, without needing to be told, that she had not come to mourn.

"Sebastian?"

Elara's voice was soft behind him.

She stood at the doorway of their father's study, her fingers curling against the wood, small, uncertain.

She had been crying. Again.

Sebastian sighed, turning toward her, masking his unease.

"She's here," he said simply.

Elara swallowed, glancing toward the window, watching as their grandmother disappeared into the house.

Sebastian knew what she was thinking.

"It's fine," he murmured, brushing past her. "I won't let her interfere."

Elara didn't argue. She never did.

But when she followed him down the hall, her footsteps were quieter than usual.

As if she was already learning how to disappear.

Their Mother's Announcement By the time they reached the drawing room, Lady Agatha was already seated, her black gloves folded neatly in her lap.

Their mother stood at the liquor cabinet, pouring herself a drink.

She hadn't turned to greet them.

Sebastian's gaze narrowed.

"It's been decided," their mother said suddenly, as if they had walked into a conversation that had already begun.

Elara stiffened. Sebastian did not.

"What has?" His voice was even. Controlled.

Their mother sighed, finally turning toward them, swirling the amber liquid in her glass.

"You'll have to stay upstairs for a little while."

Silence.

Sebastian did not move.

"And why is that?"

His mother exhaled, exasperated. As if this was an inconvenience to her.

"Because, my darling," she said lightly, taking a slow sip, "I'm going to find you a new father."

The words hung between them.

Elara's fingers curled into the fabric of her dress.

Sebastian felt something cold slither down his spine.

"No."

It was not a refusal.

It was a fact.

Their mother laughed. Light. Dismissive.

"Oh, Sebastian, don't be dramatic."

He stepped forward, standing between her and Elara, his jaw tightening.

"You don't need a new husband."

"I do, actually," she countered, her patience thinning. She set down her drink with a sharp clink against the table. "Do you think I can run this household alone? Do you think you, a boy, can hold the Blackwood name by yourself?"

Sebastian said nothing.

Because he knew.

This wasn't about survival.

It was about power.

It was about her.

"This is for the best," his mother continued, sighing dramatically. "Agatha agrees."

Sebastian turned his head sharply.

Lady Agatha sat still, watching them. Studying them.

She had yet to speak.

Sebastian knew why.

She was waiting.

Waiting to see how they reacted. Waiting to see if they would resist.

Waiting to see if they would break easily.