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Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!-Chapter 506: Anabelle (Voidhowl) Blackwood
Robertβs coat flared once in the breeze and was gone, the garden gate sighing shut behind him.
Silence gathered like dew. π―π§πππππ«π·π€πΏππ‘.ππ€πΆ
Annabelle Voidhowl stood barefoot on the marble, her satin shoes abandoned beneath a bench of moonβwhite stone.
Lanterns hovered along the pergolaβmercurial orbs of witchβglass that bobbed whenever she exhaled, attuned to the thin pulse of her magic. She lifted a hand; with a lazy twist of her fingers one lamp drifted closer, its warm core brightening so the golden light kissed her cheek.
A small thing. A girl thing. Practice, control, comfort.
The estateβs rear garden sprawled below in terraced steps: cypress sentinels, nightβlilies releasing ghostβblue pollen, a round mirrorβpond cradling the reflection of a fractured sunset now fading into starlight. Jasmine clung to every railing, and whenever a blossom dropped, she slowed its fallβjust enough to watch it hover before letting gravity reclaim it.
Another small flex of power, softer than thunder but just as certain.
She breathed in the perfume of dusk and let her shoulders fall, armor sliding off an invisible hook. The ballroomβs afterβmusic reached her only as muffled thumpsβlife continuing without her. That was fine. She had things to reckon with.
A tangle of memories
"Father is too gentle." she said softly... "Soft edges donβt survive among our families who cut their sigils into worlds, Father. Maybe Parker had seen that andβperhaps out of necessityβhad folded all the Voidhowls into punishment alongside guiltier bloodlines. An unfortunate casualty, not a villain."
She knew it. Robert knew it. Still, it stung.
And tonight? Sheβd kicked Aleric Ashford square in the ribsβheard the breath leave him and felt no regret. Let them gasp. Let Dominic crumble. One booted reminder that arrogance is not immunity.
She circled the fountain shaped like doves frozen midβescape, trailing fingertips along its rim.
The water glimmered silver; with a thought she froze a skein of frost across it, then thawed it again, watching patterns spiderweb and vanish. She could do big magicβvoidβfire, binding sigils, shards of silenceβbut tonight she used the delicate spells, the ones that reminded her she was still a girl who liked pretty things.
Seventeen years sheβd spent hating a man she was supposed to love. Mocking him, echoing her brotherβs cruelties, because orders were orders and obedience was survival. Parker had punished her for thatβpublicly, thoroughly. She hadnβt resisted; it felt like justice.
Yet she couldnβt summon hatred for him. Never had. Perhaps he saw through her long before she understood herself. Perhaps that was why he let her live when he tore down the rest.
She knelt by the pond, skirts pooling around her like spilled ink. In the glassy surface she saw the spoiled princess maskβsharp red lips, eyes trained to amuse and wound in the same blink. But deeper, beneath ripples, lived the quieter Annabelle: the one who pressed wildflowers into forbidden grimoires, who learned every servantβs name, who once traded her best hair ribbon to fix a stable boyβs torn boots.
But no one has ever seen that side of her.
She dipped her hand and flicked water skyward. It caught starlight, hung as glittering droplets, then fell as tiny shards of ice before dissolving on the marble. Another trickβbeautiful, useless, hers.
Longing, unpinned
She thought of Empressβ―Mayaβsoftest steel, the universe curving to her smile. Of Evelynβsunlight distilled into kindness. "Parker looks at them as though they anchor his cosmos. I donβt want to be them; sweetness isnβt in my grain." But gods, she wanted that look. Recognition. Irreplaceability.
"Forge your own path," she told herself. Not sweeter. Not softer. Truer. If Parker valued loyalty paid in fire, then she would become a fire no storm could douse.
A nightβlily drifted on a lazy wind, petals trembling. She whispered a sigil under her breath; the blossom glowed a dim crimson instead of blueβher signatureβand floated down to settle behind her ear. A coronet of one. "Iβm allowed softness," she thought, "even if no one sees it."
Decision under the stars.
The garden lights bowed lower, responding to her settled will. She rose, smoothing her gown, and strode to the parapet where city lights flickered on distant hills. Somewhere out there, Aleric nursed cracked pride, Dominic plotted impossible revenges, and her father walked alone among marble corridors, carrying gentleness like a blade too fine for war.
Annabelle closed her eyes, letting the wind comb through her hair.
"Iβm not gonna beg," she said to no one and everyone. "Thatβs not how Iβm made."
She stepped forward, toe nudging a fallen blossom across the stones. Her voice grew firmer, more herself now.
"If Iβm gonna fix anything, itβs not gonna be with some poetic little apology or sad-eyed guilt trip. Screw that. Iβll fix it by being so damn undeniable he wonβt be able to imagine a world without me in it."
She looked up again, stars reflected in her eyes like she was daring them to challenge her.
"Iβm not trying to be Maya. Or Evelyn. I donβt need to be an Empress or some perfect golden saint. Iβm not polished like that."
A pause.
"But Iβve got my own edge. Iβve got something neither of them hasβa heartbeat made of void and a will that doesnβt break, just bends harder." She smiled crookedly. "Iβm the reminder that even gods bleed. Iβm gonna stand right next to himβnot behind, not beneathβand the universe is just gonna have to fucking deal with it."
She blinked slowly, then scoffed under her breath like she realized how dramatic she sounded.
"Damn, that was a lot."But she didnβt take any of it back.Not one word.
A lantern brushed her shoulder, hovering like a worried pet. She smiledβsmall, trueβand sent it drifting back to its post.
Then, barefoot and unhurried, Annabelle Voidhowl turned toward the colonnade, shoes forgotten, nightβlily glowing in her hair, ready to step back into the world as both dagger and balm.
The garden exhaled behind her.
The stars kept their counsel.
The garden was doing that stupidly pretty thing it did right before full darkβlanterns humming to life like lightning bugs on espresso, wind sliding through the night-lilies so the petals ghost-surfaced in slow-mo across the pond, sky fading from purple bruise to Instagram-ready midnight. Normally Annabelle wouldβve eaten the vibe up and spit back snark, but tonight it just felt...hollow.
Maya was probably inside wrapped around Parkerβs arm, laughing with Tessa while Bella clung to his other side like a designer scarf that whined if you tried to untie it. Everyone had suddenly become someoneβs somethingβbest friend, baby sister, soulmate, cosmic sidekick. Annabelle? Sheβd become the spare seat nobody asked to reserve. Whatever. She toed a pebble off the path, flicked a wrist, and let her magic skate it across the pond like a skipping stone nobody else would ever see.
Tiny flex. Tiny comfort.
Footsteps tapped behind herβmeasured, calm, obnoxiously confident, like the ground was lucky to get walked on. She didnβt have to look to clock the gait. Parker couldβve snuck in, god-mode and all, but apparently, he felt like making an entrance.