The Necklace

POV: Zhen & Xia

Zhen and Xia sprawled across the sagging lounge couch like they owned it, twin queens of the corridor with matching smirks and mirrored boredom. Their parents had money—enough to live well—but nowhere near the wealth of Anjila’s mother. And since their family’s fortunes relied on her mother’s influence, they’d learned young that doing whatever Anjila wanted was simply survival.

Zhen thought of it as a velvet chain—soft to the touch but impossible to break. Xia’s thoughts were simpler: stick close to the queen bee, let her do the stinging.

“Anjila’s doing the most,” Zhen muttered, flicking open a compact and checking her liner. “Private suite, donor dinners, that endless ‘purge-the-old-order’ crusade… exhausting.”

Xia smirked, recalling the latest drama. “Don’t forget the meltdown yesterday over that necklace she ‘absolutely had to have.’ Swore someone stole it. Probably just fell behind her dresser.”

Zhen rolled her eyes. “She acted like someone ripped the crown jewels off her neck. Whole floor had to hear about it. Part of me hoped it was stolen, just to watch her spiral.”

“Whatever,” Xia shrugged. “If you want to be on the winning side, you do the dirty work. Bark now, bite later.”

Zhen’s smile tilted. “Better to fetch than be fetched.”

They laughed softly—cruel, conspiratorial—until movement at the far end of the hall caught their attention. Lexi came into view with a duffel and a stack of folded clothes, calm and unhurried. A moment later, Garrett appeared walking in the opposite direction, a subtle but commanding presence. His gaze swept over the twins briefly—assessing, cool—before settling on Lexi.

“Make yourself at home, dear,” he said with a faint, approving smile.

“Thanks, Dad,” Lexi replied without hesitation.

The twins froze for a second, exchanging a wide-eyed glance. Dad? The word rattled around in their heads, unsettling and strange.

Garrett’s eyes flicked to Zhen and Xia just long enough to make them straighten unconsciously. Without another word, he continued down the hall. The air felt heavier in his wake.

Xia’s lips curled. Oh, this is rich.

“Moving in like she’s earned something,” Zhen murmured.

Lexi glanced at them, smirked faintly. “Guess I’ll just settle into my little ‘broom closet.’ Unless you two are brave enough to check it out. Might give you a laugh.”

The twins exchanged a grin. An open invite to mock her? Too good to pass up.

“Oh, we’ll see it,” Zhen said sweetly. Let’s see what dump she calls home. “Gotta know where to send the sympathy cards.”

“Perfect,” Lexi said, unlocking her door and stepping aside. “Come judge for yourselves.”

Inside, the room was warm and faintly spiced, a small lamp casting gold in the corners. The twins prowled inside like dogs in a stranger’s territory.

“This desk is pathetic.”

“Bed’s tiny—guess you’ll curl up like a stray.”

“Hope you like the smell of mildew,” Xia added, pleased with her jab.

Lexi’s face stayed unreadable… until Xia’s eyes caught a glint at her throat. Her smirk faltered. No… that can’t be…

“Wait—” Xia stepped closer. “That looks like—”

Lexi’s smile sharpened. “Think you recognize it? Come closer and be sure. Unless you’re afraid you’re right.”

She’s baiting us, Zhen thought. Still, the chance to expose her was too tempting. They moved in.

Lexi unfastened the Necklace—an oval of glassy amber—and let it dangle. From that moment, it never stopped swaying, never stopped pulling their eyes. Every word she spoke matched its rhythm, every flicker of light on its surface seemed timed to her voice.

“Look closely,” she murmured. “See how the facets drink in the light… there… and there. Just follow it. Slow. Steady.”

Zhen’s arms folded, but her eyes didn’t leave it. Xia leaned forward without thinking.

“Funny thing,” Lexi’s voice slid into them like warm silk, “the longer you watch, the softer everything else becomes. Your shoulders relax. Your breathing matches the swing. Your thoughts… line up.”

Back… and forth. Back… and forth. The glow shimmered in their pupils.

Xia tried to scoff—“Nice trick, but—”

“Shhh,” Lexi soothed, stepping closer, lowering her voice until it brushed their skin. “Don’t waste energy talking. Just let your eyes stay where they want to be… right… here.”

Zhen felt the tension seep from her arms. Why does that feel… good?

“It wasn’t a gift,” Lexi whispered. “I had Worthless slip into Anjila’s room and take it while she slept. You’ll keep that secret… because it excites you. Because keeping my secrets feels right.”

The outrage Zhen expected to feel never came—only a strange sense of privilege.

Lexi circled them, nails grazing shoulders. The pendant swung with her steps, always in view. “You follow the strongest to stay safe. Not conviction—instinct. It’s in your nature to find someone bigger, stronger, more dangerous… and attach yourselves.”

Her tone warmed. “You’re like little dogs, really. Small, quick, always alert to the mood of the pack. Eager to prove yourselves to the leader, because that’s where safety lies. Loyal when praised, **** when ignored. Dogs curling beside a wolf to survive the storm. And I…” she smiled, “I am very good with pets. I’ve tested this personality before—on someone named Worthless. Dogs are simple to shape, easy to train once they trust the hand holding the leash.”

Now she let the words sink deeper. “Zhen—you’re Sugarpup. Xia—you’re Honeytail.”

The names slid in like collars, warm and snug. Sugarpup… Honeytail… mine.

“Whenever I call you that, that part of you wakes. Soft paws, quick ears, eager to please. Warmth in your chest, a melt behind your knees. So easy to listen. So easy to obey.”

Lexi’s hand brushed Zhen’s cheek; Zhen shivered. “Puppies crave guidance. Puppies love praise. Puppies come when called. And my good girls…” She let the phrase hang until both of them leaned toward her. “…love to hear it.”

The pendant nearly still now, she added, “When you see me—or Garrett—you’ll read us as wolves. Real. Bigger than you. And you’ll know the safest place is at our heel.”

She tucked the necklace away and gave her first commands. “Sugarpup—eyes on me.” Zhen’s gaze snapped up. “Honeytail—sit.” Xia’s knees bent, catching herself on the bed, cheeks hot.

“Perfect,” Lexi purred. “Your quiet words: ‘Sleepy Sugarpup’… ‘Sleepy Honeytail’… and you melt. Safe. Still.”

Lashes fluttered. Knees softened.

“And your wake words…” snap “…Bright eyes.”

They blinked, the fog thinning but not gone. A strange, cautious warmth lingered.

“We, um… should go,” Zhen murmured.

“Yeah,” Xia agreed quickly.

They stepped into the hall slower than they came. At the door, Lexi called warmly, “Good girls.” The heat in their faces deepened.

Why does that feel… right? Xia wondered.

Lexi set the necklace on the dresser, her smile deepening. “And if I train them well enough… maybe I’ll gift them to Nia. Two perfect little pets, all ready to please.”