Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens

Blake reached for the brass doorknob. The metal was cool under her palm.

"You can't leave! You're a Harrison!" Carissa yelled. Her voice was shrill, desperate to regain control of the narrative.

Blake paused. She didn't turn her body, just looked back over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed.

"And you, Carissa? What are you?"

Carissa flinched. She pulled the sheet tighter around her throat.

"I'm the woman he loves," Carissa said defiantly.

Blake laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound that scraped against her throat.

"You're a PR nightmare waiting to happen."

Hardin struggled to his feet, clutching the robe closed. He was still wheezing slightly.

"Don't talk to her like that," he growled.

Blake stepped away from the door and moved closer to the bed, invading Carissa's bubble.

"Does the press know about your mother, Carissa?"

Carissa's face drained of all color. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"The housekeeper? In the guest wing?" Blake continued, her voice low and dangerous.

She recited an address. A small, rundown apartment complex in Queens.

"Shut up!" Carissa screamed. She covered her ears with her hands.

Hardin looked between them. His brow furrowed. Confusion replaced the anger. He didn't know.

Blake caught the look. A small, cruel smile touched her lips.

"Oh, she didn't tell you? She's an illegitimate child."

"A bastard posing as a debutante," Blake clarified.

Hardin's expression shifted. He looked at Carissa, really looked at her, and Blake saw the disgust curdle in his eyes. Status was everything to a Harrison.

Carissa began to sob. Real, ugly tears this time.

A wave of dizziness hit Blake. The awakening came with a cost. Her brain felt like it was expanding against her skull.

She stumbled slightly, gripping the doorframe to stay upright.

Hardin saw the weakness. He took a step forward.

"You're sick. You need a doctor," he said, reaching for her.

Blake forced her spine straight. She bit the tip of her tongue until she tasted copper. The pain focused her.

"Just a headache from the trash fumes," she quipped.

She stepped into the hall and slammed the heavy oak door in their faces.

She leaned against the corridor wall for a second, exhaling sharply. Her system was rebooting, but she had to move.