The silence that followed was answer enough. Not days. Not weeks. Possibly not even months. They expected her to stay here until... what?
Until she learned to control her power? Until the prophecy was fulfilled? Until she became this empress they insisted she was meant to be?
"I have a lease," she said, knowing how ridiculous it sounded even as the words left her mouth. "I have a job. I have—" She stopped, because what did she have, really? A cramped flat she could barely afford, though she did love her little space she could barely fit.
A job working for the man standing next to her, who'd hired her under false pretenses. Eddie, who she'd have to lie to or cut off entirely because how could she possibly explain any of this?
Her old life was already gone. She just hadn't fully accepted it yet.
"Your apartment is being handled," Alexander said gently. "We'll get your things, pay out your lease, handle everything that needs handling. And as for work—you can take all the time you need. Consider it extended leave. Paid, naturally."
"Naturally," Sophia echoed. "Because you've thought of everything, haven't you? Every contingency, every detail. You've planned my entire life out while I was stumbling around in the dark, and now I'm just supposed to... what? Be grateful? Say thank you for the cage you've built me, no matter how beautiful the bars are?"
She saw hurt flash across Marc's face before he could hide it. Saw Alexander's jaw tighten. Saw the way Sam's expression shuttered. Good. She wanted them to hurt. Wanted them to feel even a fraction of the betrayal churning in her gut.
"It's not a cage," Alexander said quietly. "You can leave any time you want. We won't stop you. But out there—" He gestured vaguely toward the door, toward the world beyond the wards. "—you're vulnerable.
Your power is awake now but not controlled. Every supernatural within a hundred miles can probably sense you now, and not all of them will care about some ancient prophecy or destined empress.
Some will just see an opportunity. A young, untrained, incredibly powerful being who they could capture, control, use for their own ends."
"He's right," Jack added, his voice soft but serious. "You think your birth was violent? That was you as an infant, with your power locked away behind dimensional barriers. Now those barriers are gone. You're nineteen years' worth of compressed power with no training, no control, no understanding of what you can do. You're a walking magical nuclear weapon. And there are plenty of people in this world—and others—who'd love to get their hands on that kind of firepower."
Sophia wanted to argue. Wanted to insist she'd be fine, that she could handle herself, that she didn't need their protection or their house or their careful planning. But she couldn't. Because they were right, and she knew it.
She could feel the power inside her now—so damn vast... churning, barely contained. It pressed against her skin from the inside, looking for cracks, for weaknesses, for any excuse to burst free. She had no idea how to control it, how to channel it safely.
She was one strong emotion outburst away from catastrophe.
"Okay," she said finally, the fight draining out of her. "Okay. I'll stay. For now. Until I figure out how to not accidentally murder people just by having feelings."
The relief that crossed their faces would have been comical in any other situation.
"Come on," Marc said, his hand gentle on her elbow. "Let me show you to your room. You need rest. Food, probably. Maybe a shower. We can talk more tomorrow, after you've had time to process."
Sophia nodded mutely and let him guide her toward the stairs. As she climbed, she noticed more details about the house—the way the steps were carved with subtle symbols, the way the railing thrummed with protective energy, the way each door they passed had its own unique ward signature. This wasn't just a house. It was a fortress. A sanctuary.
A prison.
Or maybe all three, depending on how she chose to look at it.
Marc led her down a second-floor hallway to a door at the very end. He pressed his palm against it the same way Tally had done with the front entrance, and it swung open to reveal a space that made her breath catch for entirely different reasons.