The servants looked at her like she was an uninvited guest at her own funeral. Those that were sweeping literally dropped their brooms as she passed through the trees, staring like she had grown a second head. Butler Clay took one look at her, gasped like a young maiden with the vapors, and rushed inside to inform the family that Zyra was here.
"The welcoming committee looks thrilled," Zyra muttered under her breath.
Zyra made her way inside the house and was immediately met with the unfriendly glance of her foster mother, Ursula. Ursula looked once at her, sighed dramatically, and pushed her plate away.
"Well, I have officially lost my appetite," Ursula announced to the half empty room. She looked disgustingly at the dried fruit on the plate as she laid down her fork, as if Zyra’s mere presence had personally rotted the food. She did not say a word to Zyra as she walked away, grumbling loudly enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. "I cannot believe Samuel still wants that girl to stay in our home. It’s bad for my blood pressure. At least I do not have to pretend anymore to like her anymore."
Zyra rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw her own brain. She looked at Lita who was standing near the dining table, chewing on a fingernail.
"Where have you been?" Lita asked, her voice a mix of nosiness and fake worry. "Do you have any idea the drama you’ve caused? Father has ordered you to stay here and not take another step out of the house. I hate to say this, but you are a waste now. You must learn to rely on me from now on."
Zyra didn’t even bother answering. She moved straight towards the corridor that led to her bedroom. Lita, naturally, followed her like a lost puppy, demanding answers.
"Zyra! I’m talking to you! You can’t just ignore me!"
When they entered the room, Zyra did not waste time. She completely ignored Lita’s whining, walked straight to her vanity table, and grabbed a sharp pair of scissors.
"What are you doing with those?" Lita gasped, taking a step back as if Zyra had completely lost her mind. "Are you going to kill yourself? Have you completely lost it?"
Zyra didn’t say a word. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, looking directly at the mark in between her brows.....the very mark that had turned her into an outcast. With a steady hand and a fierce look in her eyes, she gathered a thick section of her front hair.
Snip. Snip.
Dark strands tumbled onto the floor. With a few quick cuts, she created a long, sweeping fringe that fell perfectly across her forehead, just long enough to completely cover the mark on her face. She shook her head, letting the new bangs settle into place. For the first time since her last life, she actually felt like she could face the world without hiding behind a hood.
"Wow," Lita muttered, crossing her arms and sniffing disdainfully. "A haircut to hide the famous cherry colored blossom. Very dramatic, Zyra."
Silence.
Zyra answered her with absolute, stone-cold silence. She tossed the scissors onto the bed, pulled out a travel bag, and began to pack the things she actually needed.....focusing entirely on the task while Lita kept hovering like an annoyed mosquito.
She began to pack the things that she thought she would need. The supplies she had bought, her parent’s photo and the rest of the energy stones.
Lita’s eyes went wide. She noticed the frantic packing and gasped in shock. "Are you leaving? Where are you planning to go? You don’t have anyone else! Father will help you!"
Silence. Zyra answered her with absolute, stone-cold silence, focusing entirely on a particularly stubborn zipper.
When she was done, she hauled the bag onto her shoulders and grabbed the handle of a medium sized case with the other. Zyra walked out into the hallway, calling out for Ian, her brother.
From the bottom of the stairs, Ian’s voice floated up, sounding incredibly nervous. "Zyra? I’m in the living room... Uh, you have guests. A lot of them."
Zyra carried the travel bag on her back. It was heavy, hurting her shoulders, but she carried it anyway and walked downstairs, with Lita still tagging along, whining in the background.
When she reached the foyer, the air froze. Ian was standing there, slightly trembling, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck. And standing around him, looking smug and overly expensive, were her four ex-fiancés.
Michael, Hans, Clifford, and Shane. The premium brotherhood of absolute trash.
Zyra chose peace through ignorance. She ignored them completely, walked straight up to Ian, and handed a crisp piece of parchment to her brother.
"It’s the house deed," Zyra said, her voice surprisingly steady. "It’s yours now. Take care of it."
Ian blinked in confusion, he had wanted to sell the house for years and Zyra had refused and now she was just handing over the deed! "What’s with the bags? Are you leaving?"
Without saying another word, she turned on her heel and began to march out. She was not going to answer Ian nor acknowledge her ex-fiancés. Not today.
"Hey! Bitch!" Michael cursed loudly behind her. "Where do you think you’re going?" He stepped forward, his face red with anger. "Where did you even get the money to pay back our dowries? Did you sell yourself to some old bastard?"
Zyra scoffed. "That is something your mother would do not me; we all know that she is sleeping around."
Loud, heavy footsteps echoed on the marble floor. Before Zyra could cross the threshold, someone caught her hand with a grip like iron.
Hans yanked her back. He looked at her with horrifying, wide eyes, a twisted smirk on his face. "Why are you acting up, huh? What has gotten into you, Zyra?"
Zyra pinched her lips together. Anger, hot and violent, surged through her veins. But it did not stop at her. The anger flowed right down her arm and entered the tiny, green snake that was tightly wrapped around her wrist like a living bracelet. The snake hissed silently, its tiny black eyes locking onto Hans’s thumb.
"Look at you, playing hard to get," Hans sneered, leaning in close enough for Zyra to smell his expensive, nauseating cologne. "After making us wait all this time, not allowing any of us to touch you... there is no way you are leaving without me getting a taste of you first."
Clifford laughed from the couch, crossing his legs. "Honestly, it’s only fair that Zyra settles her debts with us. We wasted years of our lives on her."
Hans began to drag Zyra, forcing her toward one of the guest rooms off the foyer.
"Stop it! Let go of me!" Zyra yelled, struggling against his grip. The case was already on the floor; her heavy travel bag was making it impossible to balance herself properly. But she was determined not to drop it.
Ian saw this and took a step forward, his fists clenching. "Hey, wait, you can’t...."
But before Ian could do anything, Shane stepped into his path, placing a heavy hand on Ian’s shoulder. Shane smiled, but his eyes were ice cold. "I wouldn’t if I were you, kid. If you do anything to help her, I’ll personally make sure you’re expelled from my father’s hunter’s guild. They are the only ones protecting you right now. Do you want to meet the same miserable fate as your sister? Is that what you want?"