"Turn the cup, Poppy."

I shake my head vehemently.

Turning the cup would mean being able to read my tea leaves, and being able to read my tea leaves would mean seeing parts of my future I'm not sure I'm ready to see.

"Come on, darling. This is more for my peace of mind than it is yours. Let me sleep tonight knowing my only daughter is in good hands, hmm?" She smiles warmly at me from the seat next to me.

I look at her intently, committing the smile to memory. The way her eyes crinkle at the corners. The shimmer in those glowing green orbs that seemed to reflect a lifetime of happiness. The way her smile stretched from ear to ear, revealing a set of perfectly straight, pearly white teeth.

Many would think bearing your teeth was a sign of animosity- a way of warning anyone that may cross you to take a step back and think again.

But not on her.

On my mother, it was inviting. It was her way of showing the world that she was a beacon of light, radiating warmth and loving energy to anyone in need.

Will I ever see that smile again after this moment? I have to leave in an hour and the deadline was forming knots in my stomach like someone was using my insides for a game of jump rope. Surely my mate will let me visit. I have to believe that or I know I'll never make it out the front door, consequences be damned.

I close my eyes and inhale deeply before exhaling through my nose. With my left hand, I swirl the remaining liquid in my tea cup around and then flip the cup upside down on the saucer. The liquid seeps to the edges of the dish, swirling around as I turn the cup in a clockwise motion three times.

I flip the cup back upright, making sure to keep my eyes focused on my mom. She tries her best to hide the gasp that escapes her with a cough. I'll give her credit for the effort, but it's no use. I peek down at the cup she's staring at with furrowed brows, weary of what I might see.

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach when I make out the shape.

"That's a cloud. A cloud with dots around it. Fuck. FUCK!" I cry shakily.

A cloud surrounded by dots. A bad omen if there ever was one. Trouble ahead. My mom wraps my hands in hers in an effort to console me, but I can see the worry set in her eyes.

"It could mean anything, darling. You know the leaves aren't set in stone, they're open for interpretation. I mean, the dots could mean financial success," she tries to reason.

I squeeze her hands weakly, a sad smile carved onto my face.

"You know that's not right, mom. We set the intention to find out what type of person I was going to end up with. Have the leaves ever been wrong before?" I ask faintly.

She pulls away from me slowly to wrap her greying black hair in a messy bun and sets her shoulders like she's about to square up with the tea leaves.

"Well, we'll just do another reading. Maybe we weren't specific enough."

"I'm afraid there's no time. Poppy, go grab your things, it's time to leave."

My dad walks in cheerfully, woefully ignorant to what these soggy little leaves just revealed about my fate. I look up at my mom with panicked eyes, hoping she'll have a solution to all of this. The despaired look she gives me back tells me she's just as lost as I am.

"She's not going, Roman. She's staying here with us," she states firmly to my dad.

"What's this all about? I thought you were finally excited for Lupercalia? Besides, the elders would never let us hear the end of it, and we don't exactly want our daughter living a life of agony and insanity because she didn't complete the ritual."

He scratches the back of his head in confusion, staring between the two of us like we were a couple of caged animals.

"He's going to hurt her," she responds.

She gracefully stands up from her chair to face my dad. Even though she's at least a foot shorter than him, her energy dominates his.

"He's her mate, Moira. He'll protect her at all costs," He tells her, tenderly wrapping her face in his hands. "And if he doesn't, he has us and her four brothers to answer to."

This seems to put my mother at ease, but it does nothing to satisfy my nerves. In fact, it feels like there's a storm brewing deep within me. There's a dark cloud hanging over me, much more ominous than the one in that cup.

"Go grab your things and meet us out front, Poppy," my dad says without looking at me.

He's having another one of those silent conversations with my mom, like everything they need to tell each other can be said with just a look.

I turn away from them and trudge up the stairs, taking as much time as I can. There's a green velvet duffle bag filled with everything I'm allowed to take with me sitting on the bed. My entire life shoved into one little cloth sack.

Directly under it, shoved into the small space between the bed and the floor is a little wooden box. The lid of the box is ornately designed with a sigil I hand carved for good luck. The contents of the box were simple enough, but held the weight of what tonight meant for me.

A black garter belt. A pair of simple black thigh-highs. A satin slip, the color of blood. And the Pièce de Résistance: a dagger about the length of my forearm, meticulously sculpted and chiseled over the years for this very night.

The hilt was crafted with gold tiger's eye, a stone my mother and I always favored working with for wisdom and clarity. The blade itself was formed by an intricate blend of smoky quartz and garnet; the quartz for absorbing negative energy and emitting calm, and the garnet for love and passion.

Lennon always berated me for using so many protecting and grounding stones when I should have been using rose quartz like her, but I'm proud of my creation. It was beautiful, yes, but the intentions set into the dagger packed a punch. Maybe I was playing it safe, but I used stones that reminded me of my parents' relationship.

Wisdom. Protection. Love.

I get dressed in the ritual attire and put on an oversized coat- No way in hell I was letting my dad and brothers see me like this- and grab the box and the duffle.

I take one last look at the room that has been my escape, my refuge for the past twenty years before turning out the lights once more.

There's no turning back now.