"I don't...I don't remember."

Zephyr struggles to respond, despite being compelled to do so.

His flawless brown skin wrinkles displaying his difficulty in recalling any small truth surrounding the situation.

"You don't remember leaving me?" Tempest confusedly questions.

"I don't remember knowing you two years ago."

Fucking owch.

Yet she knew he was telling the truth by his tell tale emotionless tone that showed her mind control was working on him.

How doesn't he remember?

Was he compelled to forget by someone?

Was his memory magically wiped by another witch?

Did he hit his head on a gravestone and suffer memory loss?

The possibilities are endless but the result always remains the same.

He forgot me.

And he walked away.

Tempest drops her stare along with the topic and puts some well needed distance between her and the serial heart breaker.

Or maybe soul shatterer would be a better term for someone like Tempest who claims to lack a heart.

She turns back to Milos who was still recovering from her compulsion it seemed.

"Why don't you carry Jasper downstairs to his bed?" She suggests.

"Good idea." Is his clipped response.

•

"Jasper!"

The cry looks uncharacteristic coming from the tall man made up of complete muscle, which leads Tempest to believe that this is his father.

Milos lays him gently on his grey bed spread and the man's jaw drops, eliciting a gasp as he takes a seat beside his son, cradling his hole ridden neck.

"Who the fuck did this to my little boy?!" He suddenly bellows, eyes wild as he looks at each person for an answer.

"I think it's best Jasper explains once he wakes up-" Milos tries to keep as calm and controlled as possible hoping the man will reciprocate.

"-transitions you mean." He interrupts, clearly missing the memo.

If she were still locked in a white room in her sane mind, Tempest would be petrified of the look on his chisled face.

"Jordan-" Milos attempts again.

Jordan stands up to his full height and manages to look threateningly down on Milos despite the very small difference in height.

"I didn't want him to experience what I have, never mind at such a young age! He had his whole life ahead of him!"

His face boils red with fury and a vein in his forehead head throbs erratically.

He holds a strong resemblance to his son, especially with a frown marring his features.

The cropped brown hair, the permanently tilted lips that constantly look as though they're smirking, the lightly freckled nose.

From her peripheral vision, Tempest notices bodies gathering one by one at the doorway, their concern from the sounds of a commotion leading them here.

Each time, there's a gasp, a sharp inhale of air, a whispered curse or a hesitant who did it?

"The guards would have alerted us if there were an intruder." Danica shook her head in denial.

"I would've smelt them myself." She adds, clenching her fists by her sides.

"It was me." Tempest causes the room to fall into a deadly silence, not that she could hear it through the reeling of her corrupted mind.

Expectant and disbelieving gazes fall on her as they wait for her to continue.

Tempest no matter how bold and honest she ordinarily is, would never in her right mind put such a target on her forehead.

But this version of Tempest wanted their nagging questions to end.

She was self destructing.

Unintentionally.

"You did this? And the mess downstairs too?" Jordan Keller ground between his clenched teeth as he crept towards the girl like a true predator.

Zephyr and Milos both take a protective step infront of Tempest, blocking her from everyone's sight with their height.

"You're both protecting her?" Jordan radges at the two young men he'd considered his sons.

"You don't know the whole story." Zephyr's voice sends a flutter through Tempest's body that she silently curses in her head.

I hate him.

He left.

He doesn't remember me.

I hate him, she chants like a mantra, making him the new target of her erratic mental breakdown.

"Please. Enlighten me." Jordan's tone overflows with a feigned enthusiasm.

The silence stretches too long for Tempest's liking and so her loose mouth spills more of her secrets to stop her mind spiralling in the quiet.

"He locked me in another white room.

I thought I was trapped in the basement again.

I thought I was killing them."

She murmers, remaining hidden behind her two protectors which brings her an unexpected sense of peace.

She didn't have to watch their adoration turn to hatred. Their eyes piercing holes through her body.

She didn't have to worry about sudden or unexpected violence.

And she didn't have to worry about any eye contact triggering more hallucinations.

"It's true." A timid voice speaks up from somewhere in the room.

"Don't punish her for her trauma. She couldn't help what she was doing."

Aspen, Tempest's lips tilt fondly at the thought of the reserved dragon boy.

She hadn't much time to spare him much thought throughout her never ending cycle of episodes but before all of the drama of the mansion began, he was willing to sacrafice allot to help her.

She'd found he was quite similar to her in allot of aspects.

In another universe in which they got to grow up together, she could see them being close friends. Close like Asia and Dani were.

"You're all so quick to defend this con artist claiming to be family, who hasn't even proved she has any powers yet, when she murdered one of us!" Aaliyah finally announces her presence, her grating voice bringing a new intensity to Tempest's headache.

The memory of the feeling of being powerless restricted by the cold metal of handcuffs is prominent in Tempest's mind, pushing her to put a swift end to her repetitive, pathetic argument revolving Tempest's true identity.

Tempest dodges infront of the two forms shielding her and weaves her way over to Jasper on his bed before anyone can do anything about it.

The magic is already prickling her fingertips as she arrives and her eyes are already clouding with a silver glow.

The palm of her hand returns to its place over his wound and before she knows it, it's completely closed and healed.

"You." Jordan steps towards her, hands ready to throttle her when someone sniffles and clears their throat from the doorway.

"Touch my baby Jordan and we'll have problems."