As the darkness lifted, due to the glow of a familiar penguin-shaped lamp, she found herself not in some dank, moldy cell but an exact replica of her bedroom. If it were not for Marcus, she would have believed that the past few weeks were nothing more than a strange dream. She pinched her arm, hoping for that to be true, but she remained on the floor, staring at her former friend turned kidnapper.

With a snap of his fingers, a bowl of ice cream appeared in front of her. "It's cookie dough, from your favorite shop in the city." She continued to stare at him, subtly noticing that his accent had changed to something more similar to Killian's. "I'm sure you're hungry. You've been eating nothing but berries the past few days. If you want something else, just say the word."

"I want to go home."

He looked at her as if she asked to be sent to the moon. "You are home. This is your real home. We're family."

"You really think I believe that?" she spat. "Family doesn't kidnap each other."

His jaw tightened. "You think they would've let you go with me willingly? I saw how your father looked at you when you blasted back Nick and the others. You weren't his sweet little girl anymore," he said, echoing Pan's words. "He only saw a monster. He'd rather believe that Rumplestiltskin cursed you in some way than to see how special you are. Why would you want to go back to that?"

Faye scooted back as he kneeled by her side. He cupped her face again, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

"I'm the only family you need. I've waited so long for this. When we met in Storybrooke, I wanted to leave right then and there but I needed to be sure."

"Sure of what?" she asked, repulsed by his touch.

"That you had what we were looking for. Mistakes can't be tolerated, not with something this important. You don't have to be afraid here. You're capable of so much, Faye, and we can help you realize that potential." He lowered his hand at a knock on the door. "I have a meeting to get to but after that, I'll come back."

"Or I could just go with you. You can tell me all about how we're somehow family and what you want from me."

"I see what you're doing," he said, looking more amused than angry. "For now, it's better if you remain in here...until we decide you're ready."

As he opened the door, a redheaded girl in her late twenties, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, stepped into the room. She waved at Faye, as if this was all normal.

"I'll be back, Faye." His smile swiftly fell, replaced with a harsh glare towards the girl. "If I find out she was in any pain, you'll answer to me. Understood?"

"Y—yes, sir," she replied, bowing her head.

He vanished in a cloud of dark red smoke. With a flick of her wrist, the girl pulled the chair by the desk towards her. Taking the hint, Faye sat down, thousands of questions in her head but unsure of which to ask first. She jumped when the girl placed her hand on her chest.

"Just relax," she said, calmly. "A typical physical, nothing more. We need to make sure you didn't contract anything on that horrid island. I've never been there but I can't imagine an island of teenage boys is concerned with hygiene. This is all standard for anyone who enters The Haven."

"Is that where we are?"

The girl's palm glowed bright blue. "Yep, exclusive to only the inner circle. It's like the ultimate reward. I was a healer back home, one of the best, so that gave me a leg up. I'm Amelia, by the way."

"Back home? Aren't we in the Enchanted Forest?"

"We're in New Orleans." Seeing her confusion, she stifled a laugh. "It's a long story."

"If you have magic, you can send me back to my family. They're in Storybrooke. Even if you drop me off in Maine, that's fine. I'll find a way to—"

Amelia retracted her hand, as if Faye's chest was made of fire. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she headed towards the door.

"Hey!"

"Exam's over. You seem fine to me. I'm not risking my heart getting crushed. Pissing off the Phoenix? That's a ticket straight to the Underworld. You'll get used to this place. We all do eventually."

She shut the door behind her before Faye could even make another plea. Realizing she could only rely on herself, Faye paced around the room, thinking of possible escape plans. Catching her reflection in the mirror on her vanity table, she recalled a night at the pawn shop, when Belle lost her memories. Her grandfather had cast a spell on an old hand mirror to check on her at the hospital, in case Regina attempted to hurt her in retaliation for her mother's death.

Staring intently, her fingers gripping the polished wooden table, she focused on the mirror in the captain's quarters of the Jolly Roger. The outer edges of the mirror emitted a faint golden glow. Hearing the lock click broke her concentration.

Marcus walked over to the vanity table as she brushed her hair. "And here I thought I'd find you ready to bash in my head and sprint out the door. I'm glad that's not the case."

"Does that get me out of this room?"

"Not yet. I know it's frustrating but it's for your own safety. Everyone was hoping to get a good look at you at dinner but I thought it was best if it were a more private affair. It gives us time to talk."

A round table and two chairs appeared in the middle of the room, barely holding the weight of the many courses. She attempted to look uninterested but the growl of her stomach, enticed by the delicious smell, betrayed her. Thinking it was better to indulge him, she sat at the table and picked up a glass of sparkling water. She refused to eat a single bite until he had the first taste, wary that it could be poisoned or enchanted, but he was content with patiently watching her, leaving the food untouched.

"All your favorites. If you're afraid it's poisoned, it's not. I wouldn't go to all the trouble of bringing you here just to kill you with salad, Faye."

"Then why am I here? You're not trying to seduce me with all this crap...or maybe you are. I've seen Game of Thrones. Maybe that sort of thing is okay in fairytale land but I'm not down with it. I always saw myself as more of a Stark."

"Hardly," he said, with a quiet chuckle.

His hand reached for hers and though she wanted to move it away, she allowed it. Maybe letting him think he was winning her over would give her a better chance at escaping.

"You must have a million questions. Ask me anything."

"Okay," she said, lowering her glass. "You're saying we're somehow family. So what, did my dad fool around with some village girl before he fell through a portal?"

"We share the same mother. Everything you knew of her was a lie," he claimed, hearing her scoff of disbelief. "I'm sure she painted herself as the poor innocent victim in the dreamcatcher. The truth is that she wasn't from your land. She was from mine, Camelot. You've learned of her in your lessons at school. She's got quite the reputation."

He frowned when she burst into a fit of giggles. "You expect me to believe that my mom was the hot girl from Merlin. Morgan Le Fay...are you insane?"

"Is it even more ridiculous than finding out your grandfather is Rumplestiltskin? I would think you'd be more open-minded, considering all you've been through lately. Her name was Morgana. She went by Morgan when she left her life in Camelot behind, to stay hidden, and that other name was born from the stories of her travels across the realms. Everyone believed she was such a hero. The great Morgan Le Fay, saving villagers from terrifying monsters and tyrants and then disappearing into the night."

She was taken aback by the pure venom in his voice. How could someone so full of hatred be raised by the same woman that she remembered as compassionate and kind?

Her question was soon answered when Marcus revealed that her mother abandoned him moments after his birth. Solely focused on getting revenge against those who harmed her, she escaped Camelot through a portal and spent years traveling the realms. Her older brother, the great King Arthur, took Marcus under his wing, caring for him like a son, but the life of a loving family proved to be short-lived when he showed signs of magic.

Arthur recruited the greatest sorcerers to help him yet their efforts proved futile, his magic too great and unstable to control, due to his growing resentment towards his unknown mother. His hatred grew stronger when he learned of her adventures one night, shortly before his fifteenth birthday, eavesdropping on a conversation between Arthur and his fellow knights. It led to him nearly destroying an entire wing of the castle and that same night, he fled the kingdom.

"I had nothing, of course. Just a knapsack on my shoulder and the clothes on my back. I went from village to village, hoping to find some clue of her whereabouts, but she was like a ghost. People didn't even believe she was real, merely a myth...hearing them speak about her so glowingly made me sick. I told them the truth and they laughed at me, thought I was jealous. A few men decided I needed to be taught a lesson but before they could lay a hand on me, someone stopped them...your dear old grandfather."

"He saved you?"

He poured himself a glass of wine. "Just a quick flick of his wrist and they were turned into slugs. The terrifying Dark One, the monster of legend, saved me. It turned out that he knew our lovely mother, met her on her travels, and thought she was a true talent. He said he saw the same great promise in me and offered to teach me himself. It was the first time someone didn't look at me in fear since my abilities surfaced. He helped me get my magic under control, learn to do things that seemed impossible in my mind."

"But you're hiding from him. Otherwise, he'd recognize you in Storybrooke. What happened between you two?" She placed her other hand over his, giving it a light squeeze. "You can tell me."

"I thought he genuinely cared about me. He had told me his secrets, how he had lost his son by being too cowardly to give up his power...how he was desperate to get back to him. That's why he was so eager to teach me. He wanted me to cast the dark curse, to reunite them."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "He can see the future and he knew it was Regina. Well, he didn't know her name but you know what I mean."

"Yes, that's the version he told you but the truth is that he was impatient. He didn't want to wait centuries. He wanted to take a shortcut, change fate..."

At the time, Marcus was eager to prove himself, that he was worth her grandfather's teachings. He believed he could cast the curse with ease until he discovered one problem, the heart of the person he loved most.

Losing his mother had closed him off to such attachments and he could not think of a single person he felt that strongly towards, not even his uncle. When he expressed these doubts, it sent her grandfather into a rage and Marcus was then banished from the castle, once again forced to leave a place he considered home.

"I knew I disappointed him but apparently, throwing me out wasn't enough. He wanted me to suffer for ruining his plans so he sent one of his close associates, someone you've grown quite close to recently."

"Wh—pfft, you're lying. He and Melanie can't even stand being in the same room. Why would she help him?"

"They used to be thick as thieves, those two. She oversaw my lessons, tossed me around like a rag doll for her own enjoyment…torturing me was her favorite hobby. I suppose they found a common ground in being two outsiders. It was before their spat, before she was even sent away from the Underworld. I was working at a tavern in a nearby village when I saw her by the front door. I felt this sense of dread, that she was going to attack me but then she just left."

"And you went back to work?" she asked, knowing this story did not have a happy ending.

"A fire broke out and every door had been sealed by her magic. I tried to put out the fire but it was dark magic, a fire that could only be extinguished by her own hand. The entire tavern was destroyed in minutes, leaving nothing but a pile of bodies. She didn't care that innocent people lost their lives, just that I lost mine."

"But you didn't."

"No," he said, taking a sip from his glass. "I managed to shield myself from the flames, not well enough to escape completely unharmed but it kept me alive. It took all my strength not to cry from the pain but I did, watching her search through the wreckage, and I placed a glamour spell over another body, to make her think it was me. Once she was gone, the flames vanished and I slipped out the back door. I was too weak to heal myself but someone helped me."

His rescuer was the leader of a coven, one whose origins began in Camelot. Like him, she had been feared for her abilities and went into hiding, using the isolation to strengthen her power and grow the coven she considered a family. She was highly adept at magic, even unlocking the secret to immortality and granting it to a few select members. Her coven had watched over Marcus his entire life, believing him to be destined for greatness.

"She wants to help you, just as she did with me."

"Why would I want that? Was this whole story supposed to make me believe that you're the victim? I'm sorry that my grandfather screwed you over but instead of being the better person, you're a hypocrite. You hated that my—our mother abandoned you for revenge but when she had you, she wasn't that much younger than me. Teenagers don't make the best decisions and maybe Camelot didn't have the best support system."

"Of course you'd make excuses for her. It's hard for you to see the truth about the woman you thought was so perfect."

"Maybe she thought leaving you with Arthur was your best chance at a good life because she was too blinded by that need for vengeance. Being a teen mom wasn't enough for her to—"

"You were enough." His fingers dug into her skin. "When Regina cast her curse, I added a little something, allowing me to not lose my memories. It let me leave the town whenever I pleased, not that she ever noticed. One day, I decided to visit a popular bakery in New Orleans. I watched the woman behind the counter for hours, the same in portraits all over the castle I grew up in as a boy. She shared my dark hair and gray eyes."

Her mother was oblivious to his presence, due to a spell that made him invisible. He had followed her into a back room, expecting to find potions or piles of spell books. Instead, it was an ordinary room with baking ingredients and supplies.

"I told myself it was all an act, that she couldn't just be some simple baker. All that glory she gained in the Enchanted Forest but she threw it away for a life where magic was believed to be nothing but fantasy? Then the door opened and a little girl came running in with her polka dot rain boots and matching coat. Everyone adored her but no one as much as her mother."

"Why did you hide? Why put yourself through the torture of pretending that you were some mechanic in Storybrooke? You could've left that all behind. We could've been a family."

"I admire your optimism but you have it because we lived very different lives, Faye. If you were in my place, you would've ended up the same as me." He slipped one of the home office cuffs on her wrist. "It's a precaution. You think I didn't notice the magic you attempted on the mirror?"

"Wh—I didn't—"

"This is where you truly belong. Once you accept that, I'll remove the cuff permanently and we can begin your lessons. I can't wait to teach—what are you doing?"

Faye began to hold her breath, a method she perfected at the age of four. She had practiced so often that she was able to do it for an abnormally long time, useful when she did not get her way. Though she rarely used it against her father these days, it seemed to unsettle Marcus.

"Stop doing that. I swore I wouldn't use magic on you but I'm not fond of this little stunt." She responded with a steely glare. "Faye, that's enough. You're not a child. If you think I'm playing this game, you're wrong. I've dealt with far worse—I said enough!"

His glass broke in half, leaving shattered pieces on his plate. Faye released her breath as the cuff fell from her wrist. Acting as if nothing happened, she took a bite of the cauliflower rice.

"Mmm, this is good." Marcus was silent, his fingers wrapped around the cracked glass. "Something wrong? You shouldn't waste food. As co-president of the environmental club, I'm gonna have to give you a stormy cloud sticker."

Days passed and her room began to feel more like a prison. Marcus and only a select few members of The Haven, Amelia and Nick's twitchy friend Wes included, were allowed to visit her, though only he could spend more than a few minutes. She used her charm to her advantage, to get to know them better in those short moments without him.

Wes, being the youngest, easily opened up to her, revealing that his parents were devout members of the coven, he had been born in the land without magic, like her, and his twitchiness was due to a drug that enhanced his abilities. His father forced him to take the drug daily, to prove his worth to the coven, despite the side effects.

Another interesting tidbit was that the rings each member of The Haven wore allowed them to use their magic, even in this realm where it was scarce. Without the rings, their magic became extremely limited. The head of the coven, never referred to by her actual name, held weekly competitions, for the lesser members to fight amongst themselves to get one step closer to their own rings.

Wes entered the room, carrying a tray of bagels and orange juice. "I know it's earlier than usual but everyone's in a meeting. It sounded serious so they'll be in the main chamber for hours."

"What's it about?" she asked, biting into a bagel.

"No idea. My parents never tell me anything but Marcus didn't look happy. Not that he ever does, except when he's around you. He still hasn't let you out of here yet?"

"Nope, still on lockdown. It's like he thinks I'll turn into Wonder Woman," she joked, a tiny cough escaping her lips. As if I could beat up a guy who's been practicing magic for centuries. He could kick my—"

Her cough turned into a full on fit. She covered her mouth, struggling to catch a single breath.

"You okay?" asked Wes, sensing something was wrong.

"Yeah, I just—" She glanced down at the tray. "What's on these bagels?"

"Um strawberry jam. I was trying to sneak around the kitchens so I just grabbed the first thing I saw."

"I'm like super allergic to strawberries."

"Wh—I didn't—he never said—" He helped her off the bed. "I'm so sorry. We need to get him. Can you walk? I could just transport us right to the main chamber but if we interrupt a meeting, my mother will literally crush my heart. We could—"

Wes was silenced with a blow to the head. Faye stepped over his body, the metal tray in her hands.

"Sorry, Wes. Once I'm back in Storybrooke, I'll find a way to get you out of here too."

As she slipped through the door, careful not to make a sound, she found herself in the middle of a lavish hallway. She could hardly get a good look at her surroundings when alarm bells blared and the two knight statues across from her sprung to life. Turning on her heel, she sprinted down the hallway, the sound of clanking metal not far behind.

She stopped herself at the end of the hallway, seeing clouds of different colored smoke. A dozen people, Amelia among them, appeared as the smoke cleared. Keeping herself hidden behind the wall, she eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Remember, no harm comes to her," said one of the men, who looked like an older Wes in an expensive suit instead of a classic rock shirt. "Only use force if necessary but don't provoke her. He was foolish not to keep that cuff on her wrist."

"She doesn't know how to use her magic, Damon. She's harmless," defended Amelia.

"He says she's clever. Who knows what she's seen the Dark One do in that small town? I'm not taking any chances and neither should you. She can't have gotten far. We'll split up and whoever grabs her, send a signal and we'll all meet back in the main chamber."

"All the doors are sealed so she'll be easy to find. She doesn't know her way around this place."

As Wes's father and a bald, burly man moved closer to her hiding place, she gripped the wall tightly, unsure of how to get out of this mess. She suddenly felt as if she was leaning on nothing but air and landed on a soft red carpet. Her fingers brushed against the solid wall and for a moment, they slipped through, as if she turned into a ghost.

"Whoa."

Above her was a picture of her mother, several darts in her face. The jagged edges reminded her of one of the photos in her family album, taken the day of her fourth birthday. It only contained her and her father yet her mother's hand was on her shoulder. He always blamed the missing piece on a faulty camera.

The entire room seemed to be an odd shrine to her mother, with pictures, flyers made of old parchment paper, newspaper clippings, and maps decorating the walls. There were even pictures of her when she was just a teenager, dressed in an outfit reminiscent of the drawings in Henry's book. The map covered every inch of the wall, showing more than just the land without magic. Each realm had tiny x's, along with various messages scrawled in red ink in reference to her whereabouts or some accomplishment like slaying a dragon in Wonderland.

While most of the pictures were of her mother, she noticed some of herself and her father, though his face had been singed off, at all sorts of places, from her own apartment to soccer games. She grabbed one of the pictures, recognizing the party Sophie had thrown for her sweet sixteen.

"You looked beautiful that night." Marcus was leaning against the door. "Like a princess. You could've been a real one in Camelot. The entire kingdom would've adored you."

Faye attempted to conjure a fireball but her hand remained empty. Going for a second option, she grabbed a chair that quickly disintegrated into dust.

"This is exactly why you need the cuff until you've learned control, Faye. If you didn't stop yourself, you could've fallen straight through to—"

"How did you get these? Or that one of my mother?" she asked, pointing at the torn photo on the wall. "Were you in our house?"

"No. I didn't want to blow my cover in Storybrooke so I had someone from the coven keep an eye on you."

She remembered the odd man on the bus, the day she met Henry, Emma, and her grandfather showed up in New York. It was not the only instance where she had an uneasy feeling around someone.

"You mean stalk me."

"Can you blame me for wanting to be part of your life?" he asked, with a shrug. "It killed me to be separated from you. I had to constantly stop myself from just walking up to you on the playground and telling you the truth. I should've done it so you could see the truth about our mother…the monster she really was beneath that perfect facade. I was nothing to her. Even when she was about to die, she only cared about you."

"W—what are you talking about? We got in a bad car accident and she died in the hospital. You weren't there."

His eyes darkened. "It was foolish of me to keep visiting. I didn't want Regina to suspect anything but I couldn't help it. Every time I watched your perfect family, it drove me mad. You were supposed to be in preschool but she decided to have a girl's day out. You were on your way to the zoo, your favorite place, and I was close behind when I just couldn't take it anymore. I used a little spell to drive you off the road. She could've healed herself instantly but all she cared about was you in the backseat. You were unconscious, a few scrapes but nothing horrible."

"Stop." The edges of the picture burned, erasing half of Sophie's face. "Stop talking."

"Faye, Faye, please wake up. Sweetie, just open your eyes," he said, mockingly. "I yanked her back with the snap of my fingers. When she saw me, she knew exactly who I was, which I admittedly did not expect. She was keeping tabs on us just as much as we were watching her. I waited for her to beg for her life, to be spared for her mistakes but all she wanted was for you to be safe. I waited for an apology but all she said was 'Don't hurt Faye' over and over."

"No, she died at the hospital. She had internal bleeding," she mumbled, not willing to believe that her mother was murdered by her supposed half-brother.

"I used magic to create a duplicate. Her actual body was swallowed whole by the ground, mere inches from your car. Listening to her gasp for air was truly—"

The door split in half as Marcus went flying through it. Climbing through the massive hole, she had one thing on her mind: making him suffer. Marcus began to lift himself up from the pristine white carpet but with a twitch of her nose, he slammed into the ceiling and back into the floor several times.

A freshly manicured hand wrapped around her throat, like a python squeezing its prey. It belonged to a middle-aged woman, her graying ebony hair tied back into a tight bun. With her blazer, pencil skirt, and heels, she could easily blend into the streets of Manhattan. Her smile, not fully reaching her pitch black eyes, was more unsettling than comforting.

"Aren't you a treat?"

Faye expected a nasty tone but instead, her voice had a melodic quality, her accent the same as Marcus's but more refined. He stood up, wiping the blood from his lips.

"It was my fault. Please don't hurt her," he begged, lowering his head. "I'm the one who provoked her. I shouldn't have—"

He continued to speak but there was no sound. "Enough of your whining. I never should have trusted you with this. That's your first lesson, little dove. The only one you can rely on is yourself because others, especially pathetic little boys, will always disappoint."

One second, she was dangling in the air, feeling like she might black out at any moment, and the next, she was in another bedroom, three times the size of hers. As the woman released her grip, leaving Faye panting on the floor, she sauntered over to the vanity table and drank from a vial of green liquid. The grays, along with the wrinkles in her face, vanished, giving her a more youthful, vaguely familiar appearance.

"You're Ann Wynn." She stopped admiring herself in the mirror, turning towards Faye. "I remember you from the career fair last year. You're the head of Avalon Corp. Were you even trying for subtlety or you just don't have the brains to come up with something else?"

"Faye, st—"

"No need for that," the woman said, quieting Marcus by just raising her finger. "I quite enjoy a little fire. Such a nice break from the tedium of groveling and pleasantries. It's good to have someone with some semblance of intelligence around. You can call me Mim, darling. Come along now. We have business to attend to in the city."

Changing into a crisp dark blue suit with a slight twitch of his nose, Marcus placed his hands on the full length mirror on the wall. The glass shimmered, now showing the inside of a limousine instead of a reflection of the room. Mim glanced down at Faye, who remained on the floor still reeling from the last few minutes.

"Can't have you trying to figure out where we are, can we? Up you get."

Marcus was visibly upset when she recoiled at his extended hand and after throwing him a nasty look, she stepped through the mirror. The drive consisted of ten long minutes of uncomfortable silence, with Faye resisting every urge to do a tuck and roll out of the car and Marcus solemnly staring at the floor. The car finally stopped at building that resembled the town hall in Storybrooke.

Mim did not even bother stopping at the receptionist desk. She walked straight past all of the security guards, many of them lowering their heads in fear, and up the winding stairs until they were in front of a door, Mayor Joseph Caldwell written on a gold plaque. Without a single knock, she stepped into the office.

A young man in his mid twenties, surrounded by several papers, looked up from his desk. Judging by his confused expression, he was not expecting any visitors. The woman beside him nearly dropped the folder in her trembling hands.

"A spitting image of your father. I'm sure you will do just as good of a job as him. Oh, no need to stand, Joseph. This won't take long."

"Miss Wynn, isn't it?" he asked, taken aback by her bold tone. "Forgive me but I don't recall any meetings with you today."

"I tend to show up when I want but by that look on your face, your lovely assistant hasn't briefed you on everything." She pouted at the woman. "I expect better of you, Isabel. You've always known to follow the rules."

"If you're simply here to berate my staff, this conversation is over. I won't tolerate it. I suggest you leave," he said, nodding towards the door. "Whatever business you want, we can discuss it when you learn respect."

Mim laughed, only angering him more. "You may have the title of mayor but the one with the real power is me. Anything you wish to do, no matter how small, goes through me first. This staff of yours is under my employ, not yours. Why do you think I was able to come up here without an appointment? Because they know the truth."

"Isabel, call security to escort Miss Wynn out." She stayed behind the desk, stiff as a board. "Isabel."

"Oh, she won't move unless I allow it."

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a glowing heart. Marcus immediately pinned Faye's arms behind her back, quietly warning her to not interfere with 'business'. Caldwell was oblivious to the threat until Mim squeezed the heart, causing his assistant to cry out in pain.

"W—what is this?" he asked, thinking he had lost his mind. "How did you—"

"As I said, I'm the one with the real power. Your father was stubborn like you once but he quickly learned his place and I'm sure you will too. All I have to do is squeeze and poor Isabel is in excruciating pain. Surely you don't want that."

"S—stop it." Ignoring his pleas, she squeezed the heart again. "What do you want?"

"To show you the truth. The only reason you're in this office is because I allow it. Step out of bounds and you'll end up like your father. Is that understood?"

He nodded, holding onto his teary-eyed assistant. She released a shaky breath when Mim placed the heart back in her purse.

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing you at the charity event tonight. It's going to be quite the affair. All for my newest protégé," she said, lightly patting a disgusted Faye's cheek.

Upon returning to The Haven, Faye was taken back to her room. Several dresses, admittedly beautiful and expensive, had been laid out on her bed.

"Aren't they lovely?" Faye stood by the door, her arms crossed. "Not to your liking? That's why we have magic. You can choose another, if you wish. Just think and it will appear."

"I'm not going to your stupid party."

"There's no party without the guest of honor," she said, picking up one of the gowns. "Oh, I know that face. Your mother wore it often. She enjoyed defying me."

"Oh, she saw through you too? You think you're so great, using your magic to scare innocent people, but you're a fraud." Mim's fingers curled tightly around the dress, tearing into the fabric. "My grandfather's more powerful than you. My girlfriend could kick your ass without breaking a sweat. You're not even immortal. You just use some potion to hide your real self, an ugly hag with—"

A leather whip coiled around her throat, bringing her to her knees. Her face was soon buried into the carpet.

"Now I truly see her in you." She bent down beside Faye, her dark eyes narrowed. "I have no problem leaving you in this room like a caged little bird. No food, no water, no visits from your dear brother…and eventually, this teenage rebellion act won't seem so smart and just like your mother, you'll break."

At a quarter to eight, she heard a soft knock. "Faye, please don't be difficult. Mim doesn't like us to be late."

She opened the door to Marcus, in a black tux and his hair slicked back with gel. His eyes grew wide at the sight of her revealing, floor-length dress, dark red with a low cut in the front and high slit up the thigh.

"Change now."

"Is something wrong?" she asked, acting clueless.

"I know you're doing this to get a rise out of Mim but angering her will only make things worse."

"No idea what you're talking about. I just didn't like any of her choices and she said I could pick out my own outfit."

He pursed his lips. "Faye, if you don't change this instant—"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir." Wes was standing behind him, nervously running his hands through his hair. "I was told to escort Faye to the party. Is everything okay?"

"It's great. You look so handsome, Wes," she said, looping her arm through his. "Do you like my dress?"

He refrained from answering under Marcus's harsh graze. They headed to an enormous ballroom that put her Winter Wonderland dance from junior year to shame. The room was already filled with guests, though Faye doubted all of them were in the coven.

"You look beautiful tonight, princess."

Wes's compliment distracted her from the extravagant decorations. He flashed her a mischievous smile and for the briefest second, his eyes turned from hazel to green.

"Thanks, cupcake."