CHAPTER 1:
MOVING DAY
After tirelessly searching for the perfect home for over a month, Rogue and Wanda finally reached a mutual decision. With unwavering support from Emma and The Black King, who had advocated for their relocation to the bustling City, they utilized their considerable influence and financial resources to secure their new abode. Relocating from the boarding house in Bayville, they meticulously packed their belongings. They moved, finding a residence that was ideal for their needs but also conveniently located and easy to access.
Todd and Blob decided to stay in Bayville, feeling they belonged somewhere other than the city's affluent residents. However, it was clear that she also didn't fit in. A girl raised in a small Mississippi town, she was what some might call a "river rat." The grandeur of New York City was a world she never imagined being a part of. That's why she pleaded with her mother to allow her to join the brotherhood; she yearned for a life different from the slow pace of Mississippi, a life that was unrelated to Cody being in a coma.
On the penthouse's second floor, there's a room for each who decided to take the trip, plus a few extra in case of guests. Each room had a connecting bathroom. Thank goodness. She's tired of sharing one with Tabby, who takes forever to do her makeup, and Lance, who stains the sink with motor oil.
She stood before the grand double-hung windows in the dimly lit living room, watching the lively cityscape below. The gentle summer rain created a soothing pattering sound against the windows, adding to the moody atmosphere of the space and casting dim reflections on the black walls and floors. As she gazed out, she made a mental note to remind Wanda to purchase Hunter green curtains during their shopping trip. These curtains would perfectly complement the gothic aesthetic they envisioned, turning the space into their mysterious sanctuary.
Her fiancé, Remy LeBeau's, voice carried from the kitchen as he announced, "That's the last box, mon amour." She gazed away from the mesmerizing view outside to see his drenched form. The rain had turned his black tank top into a clingy second skin, accentuating the contours of his body.
He sauntered over to Rogue with ease. Sex filling his blood-stained iris'. "You wanna go and christen yer room?"
Rogue's musical laughter filled the room as she extended her hand for him to grasp. He touched her hand and kissed her knuckles tenderly as he took it. How he gazed up at her sent a shiver coursing down her spine. At that moment, she longed to accept his invitation. However, they were pressed for time. Emma was hosting a vibrant first day of summer party, and they couldn't afford to be tardy.
"We can't."
He didn't listen, snaking his hands down to her ass.
She sighed, "That gal will kill us if we are."
"Please? Before I gotta head back to Genosha and deal wit' yer daddy."
Turn-off.
She shoved him away, scoffing. "Don't call him that again."
He peered his head at the smile. The wicked smile still on his lips, "Are y' sayin' that title's reserved for me."
Rogue scoffed, "Go home and change. Ah'll see yah at the party."
Before leaving, he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Love ya."
"Ah love yah, now go before we're late."
He chuckled as he left.
She glanced over her shoulder with a broad smile. Yeah, living here is better than living in Bayville. She could finally breathe.
Late for her planned arrival, Rogue couldn't suppress her overpowering desire and affection for Remy. She stopped at the store to get Emma's beloved and luxurious cognac, fully aware that the white queen would be displeased with her tardiness. Initially, the intention was for Rogue to make an earlier appearance in the evening, allowing Emma to concentrate on attending to the guests.
As soon as the elevator doors parted, Rogue greeted Emma Frost, who looked unimpressed as she gazed at her with icy blue eyes.
She glanced past Rogue to see Remy quickly plant a kiss on the back of her head before making a swift exit.
Traitor.
Emma studied the bottle in Rogue's hand, sneering, "Are you bribing me for being late?"
Rogue offered her the bottle, cheesing, "Is it workin'?"
Emma snatched the bottle and then made room for her to get off the elevator.
This year, Emma truly outdid herself. After having to pay for and replace expensive items around her house, she no longer hosted parties at her home. Instead, for this year's end-of-the-summer party, she went all out and rented a luxurious penthouse with an infinity pool and a spacious living room large enough to accommodate all the guests.
"No," Emma said plainly. She turned her attention to the bar and said, "Your sister's here."
Looming above a sea of dancers, mirroring her father's imposing stature, Lyla rested against the bar. A mischievous grin lit up her face, showcasing her flawless, pearly white teeth. It had been seven long years since Rogue last laid eyes on her sister when she departed for Bayville to assume leadership of the Brotherhood during her first year of high school. Goodness, she's been an absent sister indeed.
"Ah will go talk to her–"
Emma confidently interrupted, "I can handle Lyla," as she pointed towards the end of the bar. There, Ororo stood in a sleek one-piece white bathing suit, leaning into the ear of her husband, Logan. He was dressed in cut-off shredded jeans and a tank top that accentuated his muscular frame as he enjoyed a swig of beer, a genuine smile adorning his face.
"What I can't handle is Her Majesty bringing her pet badger here." Emma snapped.
Rouge snickered, correcting Emma, "It's Wolverine."
Emma rolled her eyes. "An animal is an animal, Anna." She walked away to talk with Lyla.
Rogue strolled up to the bar, following closely behind the joyful couple. It had been a year since their wedding on a beautiful beach in the Hamptons. They had politely declined Baldy's offer to host the ceremony at his grand mansion. Who would choose to have a wedding in the backyard of an elderly gentleman's home, anyway? Rogue caught the eye of the bartender, who was impeccably dressed in an all-white suit and subtly signaled for a cold beer. The bartender returned her nod.
"Well," Rogue hummed, "Ain' y'all cute."
Ororo's smile faded into a scowl when she faced Rogue. "Anna-Marie. Thought you'd never show up."
Rogue peered past her to glance at Logan, "Logan."
"Stripes," He greeted.
Rogue's emerald eyes honed in on Ororo, "What are y'all doin' here?"
"We were invited."
The bartender dropped off Rogue's beer and got out of dodge.
Rogue and Ororo's relationship is quite complex. Ororo abruptly departed from Rogue's life to join the X-Men without saying goodbye, and she only left a brief apology at LeBeau Manor. Although there was some contact when Rogue encountered Ororo and the X-Men in Bayville, resentment has been steadily growing between them ever since.
Ororo hasn't accepted an invitation to these ragers in years. what changed? Why now?
"Yah, shugah, were." She glanced behind Ororo to study Logan. "X-Men weren't."
Unbothered, Ororo shrugged, "We are a package deal."
"Seems like we'll need to return that package by mail," she commented, her voice tinged with frustration, before setting down her beer and striding purposefully over to the opposite end of the bar. Emma concluded her reprimand of Lyla and her circle of friends by emphatically slamming a bag filled with green powder onto the polished bar top, the contents spilling out slightly upon impact.
Emma met her and smiled, "Take it didn't go well."
Rogue shrugged, "Can say the same about yah."
Emma wiggled a baggy of the same substance toward her, "Party favors, that's all."
She shook her, "Not tonight. Ah promised Rem Ah'd be on my best behavior."
The White Queen nodded her head, "I understand. So, what's the verdict?"
"Stop invitin' Storm to places. She will bring Logan, and he will tell Xavier. Then, we'll have an X-man problem."
"We can always kill them."
Rogue snorted, "That is always an option."
SOUNDTRACK: So High-Azulo, CORTES, & Zentry
Rogue, in all of her intentions, did not behave. In all fairness, he and the others weren't on their best behavior tonight. She thinks John was atop a table, head banging to the song's beat. Beads of sweat slipped from the tips of his blonde hair while he threw his shirt. The green-powdered party favor dimmed her focus. She didn't care. The summer's ending, and she wants to live her best life before the spooky season.
She took another hit.
Rogue couldn't believe her eyes. She watched in awe as Ororo and Emma danced together, their fingers intertwined as they moved gracefully across the floor. It was a sight she never thought she'd witness, especially considering the strained history between them. The whole situation felt surreal, and Rogue couldn't help but wonder where Logan was amidst all this.
Another hit.
Rogue tugged on the fabric of her sinfully black dress, unable to stifle a girlish giggle. She never expected someone like Remy to elicit such a reaction from her after all these years. Yet, here he was, Mr. Charming himself, managing to make her giggle like a giddy schoolgirl.
He gently pressed his lips to her exposed shoulder, savoring every opportunity now that she had mastered her powers. Harnessing her abilities had taken her years of dedicated effort, and it wasn't for his sake. The newfound ability to shower him with affection, hold him close, and share intimate moments was an unexpected reward. Their time in the bathroom was filled with love and passion, but it's best left to the imagination.
She intertwined her fingers with his as they walked out of the bathroom. Suddenly, a scorching blast of heat knocked her back, but Remy grabbed her, wrapping his arms protectively around her waist, trying to shield her from the intense heat to no avail.
After a few tense moments, she dragged on. The cacophony of people's desperate screams for help fell silent in her ears, drowned out by the relentless ringing. Her body was covered in a thick layer of debris, and her hair was matted. Yet, in that moment, none of that seemed to matter. Her mind consumed a single thought: "Remy, where's Remy?" Drawing on the latent strength she had absorbed from Blob a few years prior, she fought to clear her head. It had been necessary back then when he had kidnapped Jean, and now Rogue needed to make it abundantly clear that the Brotherhood did not have the license to abduct innocent girls. Suddenly, Remy stirred, coughing as he struggled to push a heavy chunk of the fallen ceiling off his back.
Locking gazes with her emerald green eyes, they communicated volumes without uttering a single word. He hurried over to her, gently held her chin, and carefully studied her face while she acquiesced to his touch. Rogue placed her hands on his wrist, communicating through the pressure that she was unscathed. Remy's concerned, intense crimson eyes swept over her face and body once more before he grasped her hand and guided her through the chaos.
Immediately, they sprang into action, aiding survivors in reaching the main staircase of the building and guiding them outside. The first responders are expected to arrive soon.
What a fantastic way to snap her to sobriety.
As she stepped outside, the blinding flashing lights overwhelmed her senses. Despite the chaos caused by the explosion, New York's bustling streets continued their relentless pace. Undeterred by the tragedy, life carried on. Firefighters hurried past her, their urgent mission clear as they battled the blaze and scoured for any signs of life among the wreckage.
The EMTs gently guided her towards their ambulance and conducted a thorough examination to ensure that there were no hidden injuries. Although she didn't notice or feel anything unusual, they wanted to ensure her well-being. A few cuts marred her pale skin, but they were not severe. She will likely experience the repercussions tomorrow, including a severe headache.
How high was she? And is she still high?
Pulling the wool blanket to her exposed skin, still getting used to it, Rogue scanned the scene. She was waiting for Remy to find her when she looked at the ambulance across from her.
Familiar golden eyes, filled with weariness and hints of a hidden spark, roved over Rogue. The figure before her appeared in a male form that bore a striking resemblance to her father. Standing tall and exuding strength with a burly, muscular build, he possessed unruly blonde locks adorned with an intricate tapestry of tattoos. As he approached, his arms were crossed against his chest, the ends of his gray pants singed from a recent encounter.
"Why are yah shirtless?" Rogue asked.
"It's either this or my bare tits out. Ah prefer the prior." Lyla mumbled.
Rogue arched a curious brow. She had always assumed that Lyla's powers were similar to their mother's – the ability to transform into anyone, with their clothes included.
"Ah am different than Mama when it comes to shifting," Lyla said as if she read Rogue's mind. "Ah have to touch someone to get their clothes and face. This form," they gestured to themselves, "is somethin' Ah came up with on my own."
Rogue nodded and nervously chewed on her bottom lip. "Are you okay?" she asked hesitantly. She and Lyla had yet to communicate in years. And what were they doing here? In New York?
"Fahne. Ah'm only here cause Remy told me to tell yah he's fine. And he's at the penthouse talkin' with the guild about the situation."
Lyla did not move to leave.
Rogue glanced up at her, "Is there something else?"
Lyla gestured toward the X-Men congregating on the sidewalk. Shadowcat and Kurt collaborated with the firefighters to assist the civilians while Jean was likely inside, clearing debris to aid the first responders. Meanwhile, Xavier, Logan, Storm, Evan, Scott, and a few New Mutants remained outside.
Some of the Inner Circle members and Wanda are on the other end of the sidewalk.
Fantastic. This situation went from bad to worse.
Her worlds keep colliding.
Wincing, Rogue hopped off the EMT truck and sauntered over to the white court of the Circle. She rested her head on Wanda's shoulder. In return, Wanda laid hers atop of Rogue's. Neither show affection, even after Rogue's control. They are the cold and detached from the world types. But, in life-or-death situations, they make exceptions.
Rogue caught some of what Emma was saying. Still dizzy from the amount of drugs in her system and the ringing in her ear.
"I'm glad you finally joined us."
Rogue opened her mouth to speak when Lyla's male form stood beside her.
"Apologies, but there's no scent of who left the bomb," Lyla said, rubbing the back of their neck.
Emma huffed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her brain was hazy, too. "Rogue, you and the brotherhood, figure out what you can about the bomb, how it was made, and who did it." Her eyes turned to Lyla, "You make sure security is tight around the Circle's businesses. William will work on the money, and the King will work on the PR. I'm going home. Lyla, meet me in the office tomorrow."
Lyla nodded their head.
What is happening?
Emma walked over to her white limo parked at the street's curb and climbed in. Rogue removed herself from Wanda's embrace, glaring at Lyla, "Tell me yah ain' part of this."
Lyla shrugged, "Then Ah won't."
"When?"
As she uttered, "Ah thought yah didn't want to know," she swiftly pivoted on her heel and proceeded towards the EMTs. Stahr Howlett, a young woman who had previously interned at Essex Corp during high school, eagerly embraced Lyla upon seeing her.
"Stahr?!" Logan removed himself from the X-Men huddled and marched to talk to Stahr.
Their family dynamic was not her business. Rogue glanced up at Wanda, "Ah am ready to go home."
Wanda nodded and guided her away from the numerous first responder vehicles and recording cameras. "You know, John was there tonight," she said.
Wanda popped open the passenger door for Rogue, "I know."
Rogue slid inside, "is that why yah didn't come out?"
The silence was all the answer she needed.
Stahr decided to accompany Lyla to Ms. Frost's workplace. An explosion cut their reunion last night, so they had little time to catch up. Stahr chuckled as Lyla observed their reflections in the elevator doors as they ascended.
"Ya shoulda tried out for Black Rook."
Lyla casually cast her gaze downward, noticing the frayed edges of her well-worn red Converse sneakers and the faded black jean shorts that hugged her frame. Beneath the tattered red high school letterman jacket, a white tank top peeked out, contrasting with the rest of her outfit. Her crimson baseball cap sat backward, concealing a bun tucked under its brim. She had arrived straight from her flight, leaving no time for a wardrobe upgrade before heading to last night's party.
"It wasn't available." Lyla let out an exasperated breath. As the doors slid open, there wasn't a secretary to greet them—just a lone door. Taking a quick breath, Lyla tapped on the door gently.
"Enter." Emma's cold voice said from the other side.
The natural light pouring in from the wide window behind Ms. Frost's desk gently illuminated the room, causing her to squint her sensitive golden eyes until they adjusted. As her vision cleared, she took in the spacious yet intimate office adorned in a color scheme of white and silver. The pristine white marble floor was decorated with sinuous black lines that seemed to slither from one tile to the next. Instead of the expected white walls, the room was painted in a soft, comforting shade of gray, perfectly accenting the hints of white throughout the space.
"First," Ms. Frost glanced up from her desk, her eyes as icy and devoid of emotion as her voice. "What the fuck are you wearing?"
Lyla glanced down at herself, self-conscious, and then back to her queen. "Ah haven't had the time to go and shop for a new wardrobe."
Displeased, Ms. Frost leaned into her chair, glaring at Lyla. "You represent me and the white court of the Inner Circle. You are wearing the wrong color, and it looks unput together. Fix it."
Lyla nodded.
"Second, you're not staying on campus."
"Well, Ah ain' got anywhere else to go."
Emma shook her head disapprovingly at Lyla's southern drawl. "I'm not asking," she said firmly, holding a piece of paper. "You'll stay at this address and be ready to help whenever I need you. Understand?"
Lyla stayed silent but nodded.
"One more thing." The door clicked open, and she thought she could hear the smile climb on Stahr's face.
The air was filled with the alluring fragrances of honey and coconut, wrapping around Lyla like a comforting embrace. In the bright light, she caught sight of a familiar face - Malakai Winters. It had been approximately a year and a half since the incident. Bella Donna had organized a lavish party on the other side of the river, and Lyla had been determined to attend. Despite Irene's strict refusal, Lyla had ventured out secretly, which she regretted now. Throughout the evening, tensions had simmered between Lyla and the heiress of the Seattle Assassin's Guild. The details of their argument were hazy in Lyla's memory, but one moment stood out vividly - the searing pain as Malakai's knife sliced open her cheek. It was only thanks to Stahr's intervention that Marcus didn't lose his daughter and heir that night.
Lyla stood still, her lips pressed together firmly, as her gaze swept over the delicate contours highlighted by the white dress. The fabric beautifully complemented her radiant, warm brown skin, and the long sleeves elegantly showcased the toned muscles in her arms. She had styled her curly hair in a chic high ponytail, drawing attention to the dress's alluring open back, where a striking Japanese dragon tattoo snaked its way down her spine.
"Malakai Winters and you will collaborate to assist Rogue in locating the perpetrator of last night's bombing," Emma smiled, leaning against the desk. Sensing the tension, Emma glanced to Lyla and then Malakai, "Is that going to be an issue?"
Lyka shook her head, "No. Not a problem."
"Excellent, you can leave now. I will send you the details about the next meeting."
Emma means she will get her assistant to get them the details.
Lyla turned to Stahr with a smirk still on her face. "Shut up," she said.
Stahr walked alongside her, "I didn't say anything."
Noticing that Malakai hadn't left Emma's side, Lyla looked over her shoulder. "Are you coming?" Malakai smirked and followed behind. "Joy, oh joy, this is going to be fun," Lyla mumbled to Stahr, who tried to hold her laugh.
"Yah ain't serious." When Kitty phoned with terrible news, Rogue and Wanda started unpacking the boxes around the kitchen.
Kitty sighed, "Yeah, like, the Professor isn't playin' around."
"Who's goin' to watch the mansion?"
Rogue could hear ruffling in the background and then Kurt saying something.
"Dr. McCoy and Forge so they can fix up the Danger Room and Cerebro."
Great. Just great. The X-Men had to follow her to the ends of the earth to keep tabs on the brotherhood. The entire point of moving to the city was to get out of their watchful eye. And yet, here she was, under them again.
Is it because of last night's bombing, or was it already in Xavier's head to move out here?
Wanda shuffled behind Rogue to put away some plates, cursing.
"Sorry, but I thought you'd want a heads-up rather than see us out there and you're surprised."
"Where ya'll stayin'?" It doesn't hurt to ask, but she doubts Kitty will ever divulge that information.
"No clue, but I'll let you know when we get there."
"Thanks for the heads up, Kit."
Kitty said bye and then hung up.
Rogue leaned wearily against the polished countertop, exhaling with frustration. It hadn't even been a full day since everything had started unraveling. Last night, she had been desperate to lose herself in revelry and liberate her mind from troubling thoughts. Yet, it had been a futile wish. The morning had brought a punishing hangover and vivid recollections of being thrown through the air in the wake of a powerful explosion, an incident that both the Queens of the Inner Circle and Magneto wanted her to investigate, based on reports from Remy and Johnny. To add to the chaos, this was supposed to be her weekend to reconnect with her boyfriend, Rems, but her stepfather had abruptly summoned him back to Genosha for a crucial diplomacy summit. Meanwhile, her younger sister, embarking on her college journey, was in town and immersed in the Circle. And now, the X-Men had her all the way fucked up.
Wanda picked up her coat from the deep gray couch that came earlier, "Sage texted. She has something for us."
At least something is going right for them.
The tall, imposing figure of Tessa, also known as Sage, could often be found in her exclusive laboratory, an area she fiercely guarded from unwanted visitors due to overwhelming anxiety. However, she graciously invited Wanda and Rogue to visit her secluded office in the sprawling Hellfire mansion. As they approached, the mansion's staff buzzed with anticipation, making preparations for an upcoming gathering of wealthy members. Tessa's office, fortunately, boasted its separate entrance, providing a serene escape from the mansion's commotion. Her disinterest in mingling with the affluent members left that responsibility squarely on Rogue's capable shoulders. When they pushed open the door, Wanda's eyes fell upon Lyla, lounging at the main table with her worn sneakers propped up while puffing on a cigarette. A young woman, unfamiliar to Wanda, stood nearby, her arms crossed as she wrinkled her nose at the acrid scent of the smoke. Across from them, Stahr stood focused, her hands placed behind her back as she diligently monitored the wall of screens.
Stahr removed her gaze from the monitors toward Rogue and then Rogue. "Sup."
Lyla remained unresponsive, her focus fixed on puffing on her cigarette. With a disapproving snort, Wanda strode over to take the seat beside her. In contrast to Rogue and Lyla, she communicated regularly with her young step-sister. For this reason, she wasn't as taken aback as Rogue when discovering that Lyla had become a rook within the Circle.
"Why are ya'll here?" Rogue asked, taking a seat across from Wanda.
"We were on our way to the mall when Tessa called." Stahr pushed Lyla's feet from the table to sit on her lap.
Wanda's hand shot out and seized Lyla's jaw, forcing her to tilt her head. The searing heat from a new rook chess piece left its mark on Lyla's sun-kissed skin. This was the mark of the Hellfire Club, a brand harshly placed upon its servants and circle members. Wanda despised this practice, yet some believed one should carry the mark as a badge of honor.
"How'd this not heal?"
Lyla shrugged as Stahr silently talked to the unknown girl. "Some type of metal."
"Adamantium?"
"No. It didn't smell like adamantium or vibranium."
Then what else is there? She wanted to ask.
"The blade is of an unknown alloy created by one of Wolverine's descendants given to Dr. Essex back in their time together." Sage, drenched in all black, enhancing her milky white skin, walked into her conference room. Her hidden eyes behind her red sunglasses took note of everyone in the room. Catching Rogue, she dropped a manilla folder in front of her.
Rogue opened the orders directed. "We're goin' after the mayor?"
"He is supposed to be on outside, but we believe he is the one who okayed the hit."
Wanda peered toward the folder's contents, "He's out of town. Are we waiting?"
"No. He's en route to the peace summit in Geneva. You'll meet him," Sage said, shaking her head. She then turned her cold eyes to Lyla and added, "Your task is to locate the individual responsible for the hotel bombing." Lyla extinguished her cigarette and examined the photo of the student wearing a tuxedo at Emma's party.
"Dead?"
Sage shrugged, saying, "The king wants you to use your discretion and instincts and take Uriel with you."
Rogue shut the folder and stood, "missed yah at the rager last night, Tess."
"I'm not one for parties, and last night gave me another reason," she said before entering her lab through the side door. If you need weapons, please come see me," she added before shutting the door behind her.
"Is she always that cold?" the unknown girl asked.
"Yeah," Lyla said.
"Ah'm sorry for my sister's terrible manners. What is yer name?" Rogue asked as they all walked out of the room together.
"Malakai Winters."
Wanda snorted, "Is this the girl who split your face in two with a knife?"
Lyla glared harshly at her before stomping to the main street, leaving Stahr and Malakai snickering.
"Yea, I am." Malakai grinned, pleased with herself.
Rogue waved to one of the night workers behind her before crossing the street and said, "You've got to tell me the story."
Malakai and Stahr caught up to Lyla, who was casually leaning against a silver Honda. She shook her head as if to signal Wanda. To the best of Wanda's recollection, Creed used to drive either a flashy red car or a dark, luxurious sports vehicle.
"It's a rental," Lyla said as if reading her mind. "Ah'm waitin' for my actual car to get here. Should arrive tomorrow."
Makes sense. Wanda waved at her and then Stahr. "Nice to meet you, Malakai."
"Agreed," she responded before entering the car's passenger seat. Stahr settled into the back while Lyla took the driver's seat. Within seconds, they sped off down the road.
As Wanda slid into the passenger seat of Rogue's matte olive green Porsche 911, she glanced over and asked, "So, you're not going to mention Lyla?"
Rogue shifted the gear into drive and sped down the street to their apartment. "What is there to say? She is old enough to make her own choices. Good for her, Ah guess."
"Are you really okay with her working for the Circle?" Wanda pressed.
"There are worst things."
With an exasperated expression, Wanda sifted through the mission folder and remarked, "We both know nothing is worse than working for the Circle. Once you're in, you're in." As she spoke, she absently scratched at the brand of a bishop on her wrist. Picking up on Wanda's discomfort, Rogue reached to her shoulder and rubbed at the hidden bishop brand. Despite their leadership roles in the brotherhood, they were still paying for their freedom. It was puzzling to Wanda how Storm managed to walk away unscathed by the black and white Kings' anger.
Rogue said nothing. Instead, she turned up the music.
Wanda let out a sigh and reached for her phone to text Lance. She felt both he and Pietro needed to be aware that they had a mission to embark on and needed to be packed and prepared within the next hour.
"Lyla is a big girl. She will learn the Circle isn't the family it claims to be."
Wanda decided not to call Rogue out on her bullshit.
A/N: I know I keep deleting and rewriting these works. But, I promised this is the last time.