The House Remembers
⸻
She hadn't meant to hit him.
Not really.
But the way Caelum stood there, like everything that happened to her was just… weather. Unavoidable. Just part of the world.
It made her skin itch.
"You lied," she said.
Caelum leaned against the wall like they were having a quiet disagreement, not standing in a house where her sister was dying and something was growing inside her that no one wanted to explain.
"About what?" he asked.
"Don't play dumb."
He didn't move. Didn't even blink.
She took a step closer, voice sharper. "You knew this wasn't just surrogacy. You knew something was wrong before I even showed up. You knew I'd been marked, that something was inside me—and you said nothing."
"I never said it was simple."
"Oh, screw that," Rae said. "You knew. You let me walk in blind."
What was I supposed to say? That it was cursed? That it wasn't even mine? You would've never showed up."
And that? That was it.
Her hand moved before her brain could stop it—flat against his cheek with a crack that echoed. Her palm stung. He didn't flinch.
"I didn't choose this," she said.
"I know."
"Then who did?"
Caelum's mouth opened. Closed. His gaze drifted—not away from her, but lower. Her shoulder. The mark. He didn't answer.
And then upstairs—
Nova screamed.
⸻
She ran.
Nova!" she shouted, breath ragged. Her foot slid on the top step—she hit the wall, kept going. The door was wide open. Light inside flickered like it didn't want her to see what was happening.
Nova was on the bed, back arched, mouth wide but silent now, just the sound of air choking out.
"Nova," Rae gasped, stumbling toward her.
Her little sister's body was shaking. Not normal, not like the seizures Rae had managed before. This was different. Wrong.
She grabbed her. Held her. "I'm here, baby. It's me."
Nova's limbs twitched violently, her fingers curled so tight they'd turned pale.
Rae fumbled for the emergency kit. Dropped it. The bottles inside rattled and scattered.
Another seizure hit.
Rae's hands were on her shoulders now. "Please," she whispered. "Please stop. Please—"
The mark on her shoulder lit up—hot, like a brand.
Nova shuddered again, once, then… stilled.
Just like that.
No pills. No injections. Just Rae's hand on her forehead, burning and cold at the same time. The air in the room shifted—dead still. Too still.
Nova blinked.
Looked up at her.
Then coughed. Just once. Weak, but alive.
Rae's hands trembled.
She looked at them like they weren't hers.
"What the hell," she whispered.
Nova groaned and reached for water.
⸻
Caelum showed up in the doorway.
His eyes moved to Rae. To Nova. Back again.
"You healed her," he said quietly.
"Shut up," Rae snapped.
He stepped forward. "I'm not—"
"I said shut up."
She stood slowly Something was off. Inside her skin. Her pulse wouldn't slow down. "That's not…" She didn't even finish. It just didn't make sense.
He kept staring, but not at her—through her, maybe. Like he was seeing something else entirely.
Caelum looked like he was trying to make sense of something. "That kind of power—it shouldn't be active. Not yet."
"What power?" Rae asked. "I don't have—"
"You do now."
"Oh, so now we're admitting something's going on."
He didn't reply.
Nova was already asleep again—like nothing happened.
Rae pulled the blanket up without thinking. Habit. Or just… panic in a different shape.
Then she turned to Caelum, voice low.
"What did y'alll do to me?"
His mouth opened. No sound came out.
⸻
She didn't sleep that night.
She sat with Nova for hours, watching her chest rise and fall.
The blade Theron left her was tucked under her pillow.
At some point, she thought she heard her name.
Not Rae.
The other one. The name that sometimes scratched at the inside of her head when things got too quiet.
It came with a pressure. Like something was pulling her by the ribs.
She got up.
Down the stairs. Past the cold hallway. Her bare feet silent.
She didn't notice it at first. Just a weird shape behind the coat rack, half-covered in an old sheet. When she moved the cloth, something shifted behind it—slow and deep, like the house was breathing.
She opened it.
The basement smelled wet. Cold. Earthy. Like something buried deep.
She didn't ask questions. Didn't slow down. She just… followed it.
Overhead, a light twitched in and out. Useless little thing.
The rest was shadow
She followed the pull.
Her eyes landed on a part of the wall that felt wrong somehow. Like someone patched it over with stone that didn't match. It was darker. Kind of slick. Like it wasn't finished drying.
She reached out.
Nothing.
She pressed harder.
Still nothing.
Then a jagged edge along the frame sliced the base of her palm.
She hissed.
Her blood smeared the metal.
And something shifted.
A low sound, like a breath drawn in.
Then the door opened.
No handle. No resistance. It just… unlatched.
Rae blinked—and the world changed.
⸻
She wasn't in the basement anymore.
Not really.
She stood over a stone altar. A woman—no, herself—was laid out on top, still, eyes closed.
Figures in dark robes moved in slow circles. One painted lines across her skin in deep red. Another whispered words in a language Rae didn't understand.
She couldn't move.
Her body, the one watching, began to hum. Not with sound, but with memory. Like something inside her was waking up.
The name—that name—echoed again. Not Rae. Not something human.
The woman on the slab jerked once, as if shocked.
And the world shattered.
⸻
She was back in the basement.
On her knees.
Sweating.
The door had shut. Closed like it had never opened.
The cut on her palm was still bleeding.
And something was burned behind her eyes. A name. A shape. A feeling.
⸻
She climbed the stairs slowly.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
At the top, Caelum was waiting.
He didn't speak.
She looked past him. Her hand was still slick with blood.
"The house remembers," he said softly.
She laughed once. Dry. "So do I."
He flinched—barely—but enough.
She stepped past him.
Stopped.
Something flickered behind his shoulder.
Light? No. Not quite.
She stepped back around to face him. Reached out.
He tensed.
She pulled at the collar of his shirt.
And saw it.
A mark.
Not like hers.
But not human, either.
Branded into his skin. Low, near the spine. Faint, but glowing in the dark.
She stared at it.
"You're marked," she said.
He didn't answer.
"For how long?"
"Years."
"Who did it?"
He didn't look at her.
She stepped closer. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Caelum exhaled. "Because I said yes."