Thorns of Innocence

Elara Blackwood – Fragile, Submissive, and Dependent

Elara has always been delicate. Soft-spoken, prone to tears, and easily overwhelmed by the world, she finds safety in Sebastian’s presence. Their grandmother called her weak, useless, a burden, but Sebastian never saw her that way. He was always there—holding her when she trembled, chasing away the shadows, brushing her hair and whispering that she was meant to be protected.

She used to dream of the world beyond Ravenshade Manor, but when she thinks of being alone, she feels cold, empty, lost. She knows the truth now: she wouldn’t survive without Sebastian.

And she doesn’t want to.

At first, she was frightened by his intensity—by the way he watches her, by how he locks doors, whispers threats to anyone who tries to come between them. But soon, she starts to realize...

It’s not fear she feels.
It’s safety.

The more she leans into him, the easier everything becomes. She doesn’t have to make choices. She doesn’t have to worry. Sebastian takes care of everything.

And she loves it.

Sebastian Blackwood – Possessive, Protective, and Utterly Devoted

Sebastian has never been able to bear the thought of losing Elara. From the moment they were born, she was his—his to protect, his to comfort, his to keep safe. When she fainted in the garden as a child, he carried her back to their room, stroking her hair until she woke. When their grandmother locked her in the cellar as punishment, he snuck in and held her all night, whispering that she’d never be alone.

Now, locked in the attic together, his love has deepened into something unbreakable.

At first, Elara was hesitant. She cried at the locked door. She looked at him with uncertainty. But he never faltered.

And then one night, she came to him.

She curled against his chest, trembling, and whispered, “You were right. I only feel safe with you.”

That night, she didn’t just accept his devotion—she returned it.

Now, he brushes her hair, feeds her from his hand, strokes her wrist where her pulse flutters just to remind himself she is real. She no longer asks to leave. She no longer flinches when he tightens his grip.

She understands now.

They are not meant to be apart.

If anyone tries to take her, he will kill them.
If something happens to him, she will follow.
There is no life beyond each other.

And that is exactly how it should be.

Prologue: The Last Days of Their Golden Cage

Ravenshade Manor stood against the gray horizon, a fortress of cold stone and shuttered windows, looming over the rolling fog of the moors. It had never been a house of warmth, but neither had it yet been a house of grief.

Before their father’s death, before the doors locked behind them, before the slow unraveling of the world they knew—Sebastian and Elara Blackwood had lived in a delicate illusion of freedom.

Not truly free, of course. They had never been free.

But there had been a time when they could walk the halls without glancing over their shoulders, when their days were filled with the muted grandeur of an old and powerful family, and their nights were spent whispering in the dark—Elara curled against Sebastian’s side, never questioning why she sought him, why he never turned her away.

They were always together.

Even as children, where one went, the other followed.

Sebastian led; Elara obeyed. It was the natural way of things.

Their father, Lord Edmund Blackwood, was a man of presence, though not of warmth. A quiet ruler, not cruel, but distant. He was a man of sharp commands and colder affections, and to the world outside, his word was law.

Their mother played the role of dutiful wife well enough, though there had always been a flicker of something else beneath her carefully trained smile—something discontent, something waiting.

Elara never noticed.

But Sebastian had.

Even as a boy, he had watched their mother in the evenings, after their father had retired to his study, after the brandy had been poured and the last guests had left.

She would stand before the grand mirror in her dressing room, adjusting pearls that no longer gleamed as brightly as they once had, tracing the lines on her face as if mourning the youth slipping from her grasp.

"A woman like me deserves more," she had said once, not to Sebastian, not to anyone in particular.

But he had heard.

And he had never forgotten.

For years, life had been unchanging. A house filled with silence and expectation. They were not mistreated, nor were they particularly cherished.

But they had each other.

Sebastian had Elara.

And that was enough.

Until the day their father fell ill.

The Beginning of the End

It started as a cough—a simple thing, dismissed easily. But as the days passed, the halls of Ravenshade grew quieter, the air heavier. The presence of doctors became a permanent fixture, their voices hushed, their expressions grave.

Sebastian knew.

Even before the whispers, before the servants averted their gazes, before their mother began receiving visitors with too much eagerness, too much attention paid to their wealth, their titles, their hands.

Sebastian knew.

And so, one evening, he had crept into their father’s study, Elara trailing behind him like a shadow.

The room smelled of old paper and dying embers. Lord Blackwood sat at his desk, weaker than before, but his eyes were sharp when they fell upon his son.

"You shouldn’t be here."

"Are you dying?" Sebastian had asked, not afraid, only certain.

Their father had exhaled slowly, heavily.

"Go to bed, boy."

Sebastian did not.

And so, for the first time in his life, Lord Blackwood spoke plainly.

"When I am gone, do not let them separate you."

Sebastian hadn’t expected that.

His fingers curled into fists. Elara clutched his sleeve.

"They wouldn’t—"

"They will," their father said. "And you must not let them."

He had not given them anything else—not a farewell, not a promise of love.

Only a warning.

Three weeks later, he was dead.

The Funeral & the First Lock

The rain fell heavy that morning, soaking into the rich black fabric of mourning clothes, into the velvet drapes of Ravenshade’s great hall, into the earth that would soon swallow the last man who had held any power over them.

Elara shivered, wrapped in furs too heavy for her frame, her hands clutching the cold railing of the balcony overlooking the funeral procession below.

She had not been allowed to stand by the grave.

"It’s no place for delicate things," their grandmother, Lady Agatha Blackwood, had said.

But Sebastian knew the truth.

It was a separation.

The first of many.

Downstairs, in the dimly lit drawing room, their mother did not weep.

She received guests with a tragic smile, a widow’s grace, a calculating gaze.

And when the last mourner had left, when the house was empty save for its ghosts, the locks turned behind them.

A quiet click.

A finality.

The attic was cold that first night.

Elara curled into Sebastian’s lap, like she always had, but her breath was uneven, her small fingers clinging to his sleeve.

"Sebastian?"

"I’m here."

"I don’t want to stay up here."

Sebastian exhaled, brushing his fingers through her hair, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the crown of her head.

"I know, little one."

"What will happen to us?"

Sebastian’s gaze darkened.

"Nothing," he whispered.

Because he would not allow it.

And so, as their mother played house downstairs, as the suitors arrived one by one, as the halls of Ravenshade echoed with something unnatural and wrong—

Sebastian began to plan.

Because their father had been right.

They would try to separate them.

But Sebastian had never been one to lose.

And he would never lose Elara.

Not to them.

Not to anyone.

Not ever.

ACT ONE: The Beautiful Cage

1. A Funeral & A Locked Door

• Elara (16) and Sebastian (16) Blackwood are locked away in the attic after their father’s death and their mother’s disappearance.

• Agatha Blackwood, their cold, fanatically religious grandmother, claims she is protecting them. "You are tainted by sin. You will remain here until you are cleansed."

• Elara is delicate, prone to panic and fainting. The confinement destroys her. She curls up in bed, trembling, unable to function.

Sebastian remains strong. He feeds her, dresses her, soothes her fears. His touch is the only thing keeping her grounded.

Inspired by 'Flowers in the Attic' by V.C. Andrews