I gingerly touched the yellowing bruise on the center of my chest. There wasn't a single part of my body that didn't still hurt, and I could tell by the side glances that I looked like every ounce of the shit I felt. It was my first foray out of my room since I'd been released. I didn't really want the company, but I couldn't stand the orange sheets staring back at me anymore. Shuffling my feet across the floor towards the couch Jack quickly stood up and moved to help me, but I waved him off. I didn't want anyone to touch me.

Two days. It had been two days since Stellan took off. Two days since I died again.

I sunk down into the soft leather cushions already exhausted by the thought of when I'd have to get back up again. Every painful breath I took alone reminded me of how horrible things had become. I needed the distraction. Even if that was going to be whispers and worried glances.

I heard Elodie's husky sounding French coming down the hall behind me and watched as Jack quickly ducked out of my line of sight. They really didn't need to keep doing that - giving me all this space. I knew how dire a situation we were in now despite the mandated bed rest. It wasn't that hard to piece together when we didn't have a single lead. But they continued to plan around me, and I was far too injured to stop them.

Gemma entered next with a tray of tea, unable to hide how her curt smile always fell a little every time she saw me. All I could manage was a nod of thanks. She'd been trying endless types of herbal teas for me in a different stunning tea set for every pot. It made me really wish I liked any of them so I'd have something to say. Instead, everything just went cold.

BUZZ.

BUZZ.

BUZZ.

In the crack between the two couch cushions next to me was a phone. I slowly reached down and carefully pulled it out. It was strange to feel grateful for completing such a small task, but I held onto it. I needed some small sliver of hope. I was rewarded further when I flopped the phone into my lap and realized it was mine. I couldn't even remember when I'd lost it now, but it was filled with missed meetings, notifications, voicemails, email alerts, a barrage of texts. But the thing that made my heart swell were the three newest text messages - from Anya. I ignored everything else, hoping she'd sent me a picture of her and her horse, or all the signatures on her cast or something. My hungry eyes scanned her messages,

Did Stellan say he's sorry?

From when he yelled on his birthday?

I'll call him. Don't worry, Avery.

My eyebrows furrowed trying to process what she was saying. Did she really not know? My thumbs started typing automatically, the words pouring out of me faster than I could keep up with. They started to blend and merge as a sob broke through before the onslaught of tears. I gave up, deleted it all, brought my hands up to cover my face, crying all over the phone, as I dropped my head forward onto my knees. There was running and then shoes on either side of me almost immediately after it. I'd barely managed a shaky breath when Jack demanded,

"What? What happened?"

I tossed my wet phone at the coffee table and pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes, trying to stop it all, but it just continued to grow - fueled by the darkness in my chest.

"Lie to her," I sobbed. "Please...I can't."

One of them picked up the phone. Then they were talking in more whispered French. Someone sat next to me on the couch and I heard the little clicks of the text being typed and tried to force myself to stop crying. There wasn't really much of a point anymore.

I heard my phone lock and I wiped at my face, the tears sinking further and further away from the surface as everything was smothered out by my depression. I turned to see Elodie sitting next to me, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth, eyeing me warily. Jack was standing next to her, flipping my phone anxiously around in his hand. I forced a deep, shaky breath, the last of my fit sliding away and looked away from their worried eyes. I told the wallpaper,

"Send more Order guards to the school. If the Circle finds out about this they'll come for her."

"Shouldn't we bring…" Jack started to say and I shook my head. His question died in his throat.

"No. Too suspicious. She shouldn't be punished for this too."

It went eerily quiet. Just the ticking of the clock and the buzz of appliances hidden somewhere in all this gaudy opulence. Then Jack exhaled a low,

"Right away."

I wasn't surprised when Elodie didn't leave with him. I'd heard the doctors debrief them. Heart even weaker now. No big scares. Too much stress can be detrimental. Watch her PCS. She's unstable. Suicide risk. Start giving her these. There had been a shake of several bottles. It would seem the only person I couldn't seem to kill was myself. I blinked my burning eyes again and noticed Elodie shift, nervously, next to me. I turned to her and slowly asked,

"This is all I was meant for, wasn't it?"

"What?" She whispered back.

"Death."

"Non," she harshly exhaled. Her eyes flew open in shock and she reached across toward me. Her fingers dug in hard on my thigh through my leggings and I barely registered the pinch of pain.

"No, Avery." She emphasized again, squeezing me as hard as she could. Her eyes were intense, scared even, her fingers at the point of bruising. I just looked away, back to the wallpaper and she let go.

I wished I could believe her.

The ground was moving swiftly underneath us in the car, a small jolt made my head slide a little on his shoulder. He leaned his cheek against the top of my head and let out a little laugh in his chest. I twisted in my seat until I could look up at him, but in all the darkness of the car, I couldn't see his face. Just the stubble on his jaw illuminated every few seconds from the streetlights outside. I grabbed onto the lapel of his tux pulling him down onto me and then we were slipping, falling through the floor of the town car.

I landed with a thud, coughed, slid my hands over rough concrete and sandy dust. I heard it behind me, crackling, building, sucking the oxygen from the room. It was blindingly bright, I wanted to close my eyes against it but I saw him. His chest barely moving up and down in the crumpled mess he'd landed on the floor of the tomb. I tried to move toward him and the floor started to swallow me. Quicksand. With every struggle, I started to sink deeper. The lightning spiked around the room, spearing into walls and bouncing off the ceiling, looking for its target. The harder I struggled the faster I sunk. I knew I had to stop moving, it was the only way to save myself. But then how would I save him? I had to save him. The lightning let out a deafening CRACK behind me, a single, thick, line of destruction speeding straight toward him. I tried to scream, the quicksand sucked me under.

I thrashed awake, kicking the covers away from myself, already sobbing. I touched my face, surprised by how wet it was and pressed my hands into my face trying to calm myself down. My diamond pressed into my cheek with the motion and it made my whole body shudder with misery. I reached over and switched on my lamp. 3AM. For the fourth night in a row. I grabbed his pillow and held it to my chest. Trying, in vain, to slow down my weak heart struggling against my ribcage. The nightmare was still so close to the surface of my frantic thoughts that I touched the top of my head, just to see if it'd be warm from his touch. Cold. Just like everything else.

Tossing his pillow aside I slid off the bed and slowly trudged toward the bathroom. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep, all my attempts throughout the rest of the week had just ended in increasingly worse nightmares. Or slowly boiling anger as I glared at the ceiling daring my brain to let me actually sleep. It never did. So instead I fumbled through the motions every morning - shower, dress, food, and then hours of work until the rest of the house started to rise. It was about the only thing that kept me distracted enough when I was left to my own devices.

This morning, however, I'd barely gotten halfway through my English muffin when my phone started blowing up with alerts. Well, fuck...this wasn't good. I angrily swiped another headline away on my phone before I locked it and squeezed it in my fist. I hadn't really intended to, so lost in my own thoughts I hadn't even registered walking, but I found myself staring down Elodie's door.

I knocked, lightly, hoping she was awake to start brainstorming about this only to have it slide open under my touch. Bright, warm, light was filling the small space from the bedside lamps. It fell onto empty, twisted brilliant white sheets and a deep blue duvet. I stepped further in, intrigued by the beautiful, modern lines of the headboard and light fixture above it.

It sounded as if she was still taking a shower in the attached bathroom. I'd only peeked inside here once, so I gave myself another moment to take in little details. Books were stacked on a small table next to a light brown leather chair, red bottom shoes were in a messy pile near the closet, and Jack's unmistakeable watch glinted on the nightstand.

Right. I shouldn't be here. I turned to go when Elodie let out a shriek of surprise, one hand pulling her red satin robe tighter on her chest, the other holding the white towel on the top of her head.

"Avery," she exhaled at the same moment I heard Jack yell out something from the shower. She quickly slammed the door shut, her cheeks going a deep shade of red. It was fascinating to me but I shook myself out of it,

"Sorry, I'll go."

"Was there something you needed?" She quickly recovered.

"It can wait. I didn't realize the time." I looked down at my phone to see it was almost 5AM.

"I thought you'd still be sleeping."

She pulled the towel off her head, tossing it at the leather chair. And that's when I noticed the painting for the first time. Somehow, and I assumed it was because of how infuriatingly perfect she could be, the dreary painting I'd bought her in South Africa looked captivating and exotic on her wall.

"Nightmares," I answered, distracted, my eyes still sweeping over all the dark lines and deep red tones. "This looks good here."

"I could never thank you en…" she started to say and then trailed off as I met her eyes, warning her to stop with the look I gave her.

"The press finally got a hold of the Maldives pictures. We should try and figure something out before it balloons." I said and glanced at the artwork for a final time.

She let out a low grumble and stormed over to her bed. Pushing Jack's watch aside she started stabbing at her own phone, "how could I have missed this?"

"It leaked about an hour ago," I shrugged.

"Do you sleep at all anymore?" She wondered, flicking through her phone. "Merde."

I was waiting for it. The moment she'd start berating me, chastising me and my drunken antics for ruining her perfectly orchestrated public persona. Having someone carry you out of a bar because you were blackout drunk was going to be hard to spin as anything other than destructive behavior. The very center of my chest pinched in anticipation, poised and ready for the attack. I realized with mild horror that I actually wanted her to yell at me. Even worse, I'd been waiting days for this because it would have felt normal.

With another grab at her robe, she huffed and looked up at me, "how do you want us to handle this?"

I tightened my arms around my chest, squeezing that pinch of pain to try and distract away from my surprise. She wasn't supposed to say that. She was supposed to narrow her eyes at me and talk me into some kind of elaborate publicity stunt to distract away from this misstep. The shower turned off behind her and we both tensed.

"Do you think I could use the Mexico pictures now?" She offered, cringing like she was ready for me to explode as well.

"No," I dropped my hands and took a step back toward the door. "I don't want to see those ever again."

She deflated in front of me, her usually bright eyes going dark with sadness. The door to the shower closed with a bang and she straightened, "we'll fight it Avery, don't worry I'll handle it."

"Thanks," I quickly replied and then turned to go. I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror she had near her closet, a flash of pink highlights swinging out from my lank, messy hair. The resolve filled me, painful and urgent.

"And Elodie?" I asked. She inclined her head toward me. "Set up an appointment with the hairdresser. I want to get all this pink out of my hair before we go to this wedding."

"Of course," she dejectedly replied and I made sure to quietly close the door behind myself as I left them alone.

I was back in my hiding place - the conservatory. It was about the only space on this gigantic piece of land that I could escape to without people finding me. Usually, I hid on one of the tucked-away benches or the black wrought iron table and chair set I'd found enclosed in gorgeously overgrown pink and purple bougainvillea. But today I was sitting right next to the pond, trying not to chuck my phone into the water. The last light of the weak winter sun was illuminating all the bare trees and scraggly looking bushes outside the glass walls. But the rays were making the inside of the conservatory sparkle. My eternal summer garden. My only escape from the gloomy London winter, or worse - Russia in February.

Forcing myself to look at the weather app again I groaned loudly and took a deeper drink of my vodka tonic. Russia in February was bleak, brutal and bitterly cold. I couldn't believe my stupid, drunken, self had actually agreed to this. I cringed remembering how I'd winked at Evgeni Vasilyev over the dinner table. And I'd heard Russian Orthodox weddings took forever. The only thing that could have made this bearable would have been to have Anya there with me. Her bubbly excitement about showing me around would have melted even the worst Russia was going to throw at me. But we couldn't do that now. And it made me even angrier at Stellan. He continued to take things from me, even in his abandonment. I took another swallow of my drink and leaned closer to the water, watching all the koi fish bubble up to the surface looking for a snack.

Everyone, including the Order, was convinced he was going to be there. The majority of the Circle Family's were going, weddings were taken quite seriously in the Circle, and all the Order's intel was pointing toward Eastern Europe as where he might be. If he was alive at all, which also hadn't been confirmed. But I knew he was alive, I could feel it. And that he wasn't going to show. I couldn't think about him without getting irrationally angry which only led to tears. Unfortunately, we were the only two people that knew his emotions were linked to his power, and if I could barely keep it together I was sure he wasn't in a much better place. I was going to have to do this alone.

Hugo and Cecile Dauphin had made it clear to Luc that he, and his new Keeper, were not part of my entourage for this event. He'd explained to me that, historically speaking, Circle weddings were usually when heads of Family's shopped for their children's spouses. Not that it mattered much anymore for him. Even Colette had canceled on me. When I'd finally managed to get a message through to her publicist she'd informed me that there were reshoots they had to sneak in while the weather was still holding and she'd be unreachable until she arrived the day of the Leap Year Ball. I'd doubled checked all her flights and cars were booked to take her right to Riberton and had hung up, dejected.

I took the final few swallows of booze, feeling the familiar burn all the way down to the pit of my stomach and closed my eyes. What if he did show up? What was I going to do then? Throat punch him? Dissolve into a puddle of tears? I doubt I'd be able to hide everything that churned inside me daily. It was the fuel that kept me smiling at every publicity stunt and pretend to laugh at Circle underlings and their horrible banter. And what would Jack and Elodie think if it all went smoothly? How would they feel if we acted like our world hadn't imploded by him caving to the pressure?

Because a part of me was ready to do that. I was desperate to feel protected and loved and desired - he'd been that for me too. Not just my Keeper, or my publicly recognized plus one, he was my best friend. And that's what had hurt the most. I had poured all my secrets into him. I was closely guarding all of his, even now. He taught me how to drive and bought fifty pounds of Sour Patch Kids as a Christmas present. I'd told him all my wildest desires and darkest fantasies. And never once had he stifled those things. We had both been searching for each other - toska. I would give anything to feel that way again. But now we couldn't and the ache of that was almost too much to bear.

Hastily, I swiped at the tears that had managed to escape and sniffled. The fatigue punished me with a wave of vertigo and I laid back on the grass staring up at the glass ceiling. I wished I could have seen the stars. I forced three deep breaths past the misery in my chest and struggled all the way to standing. If my life was nothing but an act this wedding was our last dress rehearsal before our final show. Pocketing my phone I picked up my tumbler from the grass next to me and tossed the ice to the fish whispering,

"Dasvidaniya."

Elodie didn't even look up from her phone as she fumbled around for one of the seats in front of my desk.

"It's not, exactly, what I had wanted but it would seem our invasion of privacy narrative has enough teeth to redirect the Maldives leak. That and the lawsuit."

I nodded, not that she saw. She kept flicking at things on her phone, her face shifting from annoyed to pissed and then exasperated.

"But unfortunately they weren't able to secure the entirety of Catherine's Palace for us. I doubt it's anything our security can't manage. But maybe I should have gone with the Four Seasons anyway."

"It's fine," I said. If she heard me at all she didn't acknowledge it. She just barreled onward,

"I had to move your final fitting to tomorrow afternoon, you're double-booked and we can't get out of the charity luncheon for the Red Cross. Though I wish we could," she added, rolling her eyes at her phone.

"Elodie," I quietly interjected. She kicked her feet up onto the other chair, a flash of red bottoms catching my attention as she fiddled with her phone.

"I know Gemma needed a few final sign-offs before we leave for St. Petersburg on Friday. We have plenty of time, I don't know why she's panicking so much. It doesn't take two weeks to fulfill an additional flower order. We shouldn't even be paying for that, it's not our fault their greenhouse won't have the black orchids in time."

She was rambling. I leaned back in my chair, fascinated by it. Elodie didn't ramble. Elodie belittled and threatened, her silence being the most terrifying of all. But to ramble...something was wrong. Glancing back down at my desk, covered in stacks of paperwork, I had an inkling of what it might be about. I swallowed hard as she continued to lament about the litany of annoying loops we'd have to close as we moved ever closer to the Leap Year Ball. It was almost masterful, the way she kept dancing around the one thing we all should have been talking about.

"Elodie," I firmly cut over her. "I read the Order debrief this morning."

She snapped her mouth shut, pressing her lips together so tightly all her red lipstick disappeared. I looked over at the stained glass window, still trying to sort out how I felt about it. Stellan was alive. The Order had finally confirmed it this morning. He was somewhere in Russia, but even they couldn't figure out where because they were only ever finding the damage he was leaving behind. I guess the silver lining was that it didn't include a body count. I'd been cycling through emotions for hours now - relief to anger to grief and finally to surrender. When we'd been screaming at each other in the Maldives about the Circle trying to kill us if we fled I'd never really considered that the Order would have hunted us down to keep us alive. There really was no escaping this life.

They had also made extensive notes on which Family's were starting to whisper about his absence lately. Their conclusion being that the upcoming wedding in Russia would be the perfect point to force him back into the fold if they could find him. But if he didn't show up by the Leap Year Ball they were already putting into place exit strategies for Anya and myself. None of them included Jack and Elodie. And each one of them sent Anya very far away from me and the threat I'd instantly become to the living, compliant, heir of Alexander the Great.

"I have been doing some research as well," Elodie carefully filled the silence I'd created as I'd gotten lost in my thoughts again. I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about this. It wouldn't come to that. It couldn't. He wouldn't do that to us. Stellan might be a lot of things - a manipulator, an opportunist, a liar, egotistical, but his fierce loyalty would bring him back. Even if it was the last thing he did. I had to believe that. Everything else was too bleak to be real.

"That's not why I asked you to come in."

"Oh?"

"I need you to teach me French," I said. Her eyes went unbelievably wide on her face but I continued, "if the Order is going to hide Anya and leave us to these fucking wolves I want to run with you and Jack. I can't have French be the thing holding me back."

"Of course," she urgently replied, dropping her feet down so she could lean into the desk closer to me. "Anything you need."

She looked like she wanted to hug me and I sat straighter in my chair, I still wasn't ready to be touched by anyone. But I wished I could have taken a picture of her face in that very moment, the absolute resoluteness and devotion plain in her set jaw and unwavering eyes. It was the first time I'd felt safe in a very long time. With Elodie beside me, I knew we'd figure it out. And I would be forever grateful to the karma gods that continued to fuck with me on a daily basis - because at least they set me on a path to earn her friendship.

"You sure you're up for this?" I tentatively asked. "I could hire a tutor."

"Don't insult me, votre Majesté," she immediately cracked back and the hint of a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.

I ordered another drink and hung onto the bar for a moment. We were finally at the end of me having to act for an entire long weekend and I wasn't sure I had it in me to hold my tongue for much longer. I'd managed to avoid quite a few Family's just by strategically needing to refill my glass or ducking out toward the bathroom. If you'd told me I'd be drinking cocktails in the ballroom of the Winter Palace of St. Petersburg in a gown that cost more than some people's brand new cars...I would have thought you were insane. I would have laughed. Now I just wanted to escape. Escape the overwhelming opulence of this palace, the contrived sincerity of these plastic people and the weight and bulk of this sage green Christian Siriano gown. At least the novelty of me had started to wear off the drunker everyone became. Except for Valentina. She continued to stalk me like a shark through all the white bow ties and sparkling couture.

I had counted on Rebecca Fredrick to hound me and even the Vaslevy's disappointment with my highly apologetic, but suspiciously vague reasons Stellan wasn't there. But it was Valentina that kept hanging in the shadows of Circle suck-ups and foreign royalty around me. Even Jack and Elodie had been running interference on her, distracting her away with useless introductions and pointless questions to let me escape. This really would have been the moment for Stellan to shine for us, he was a master of intimidation through thinly veiled threats. But I only had to dodge her for two more hours and then I could escape back to our hotel and a plane home to Riberton.

"They say that Catherine the Great did marry Prince Potemkin, in secret."

"I'm sorry?" Maybe it was the cocktails and champagne fizzing through my brain, but I couldn't follow her.

"Catherine had many lovers over the years, but they say she only ever loved him." Valentina raised her hand to the bartender beckoning a drink, "you know she had her husband killed to take the throne, right?"

"Brings new meaning to courtly love I suppose," I forced a smile looked past her for Elodie. "Always great chatting with you Valentina," I angled myself away from the bar but she stepped in front of me to block my exit.

"It raises the question don't you think that if you wed in secret is it really a marriage at all?" She tapped her fingernails against her glass. "Speaking of marriage where's your husband this evening?"

"He hates Russia in the winter actually," I answered, taking a sip and rose my hand in greeting to another well-wisher to stall. When they passed I pooled the anger that was flaring in my chest and closed the two steps between us. She stiffened in surprise as I locked eyes with her and growled,

"If you have something to say to me. Say it. Right now."

"I...just…" she fumbled, swallowing hard. I looked her up and down, in disgust, and clinked our tumblers,

"That's what I thought."

I poured the rest of my drink into her own and then set my glass on top of hers, making her have to catch them, clumsily, so the tumblers didn't shatter all over the ground. Then I spun to my left and stormed off. I wasn't even sure where I was going, just far away from all this bullshit. I was done, and I knew Jack and Elodie wouldn't be far behind me. They were always within arms reach of me. The rest of the guests were at the perfect level of drunk to forget that I ducked out early. Flinging open some doors I made my way toward what I thought was the entrance hallway only to see that it was somewhere else entirely.

Unfamiliar pillars and an ungodly amount of gold were glittering in the low-light of the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling every few feet. The sheer amount of gold on the walls made the room almost shimmer and there wasn't a single person as far as my eyes could see. The echoing sound of my oppressive stilettos had me leaning against one of the pillars to remove them. I sighed at the relief, carrying the pair in one hand as I walked down the corridor, realizing there should at least be a guard or someone. I turned around to go back when a door opened down the hall from me and I ducked into one of the alcoves between the pillars of gold. There was no hiding the bulk of my ball gown poofing out in front of me, but I was hoping they would go in the other direction anyway.

Instead, the footsteps drew closer and I held back my groan of frustration, glancing back the way I came in hopes of Jack or Elodie bursting onto the scene for me. To my utter surprise, I heard Zara Koening pleading with someone,

"You don't have to do this!"

"Please stop," Noa Melech replied, her voice exhausted. Their footsteps stopped a couple yards away from me and I held my breath hoping they'd just go through another door. Clearly, they knew where they were going.

"After everything we've talked about, everything we've been planning. You're going to throw it all away?"

The panic spiked in my chest and I fumbled around in the pockets of my dress looking for my phone. Only to clench my fists in frustration when I remembered I'd left it in my purse - that was with Elodie. But my fingers did slide along one familiar object - the knife Elodie had slipped me in my jail cell. I didn't go anywhere without it these days. I looked up at the ceiling, taking a slow, deep breath, hoping this was just some party they'd been planning. Right. Like anything ever went in my favor.

"You don't get it," Noa tearfully replied. "I love your optimism, but you will never understand what I'm up against."

"Then tell me. Let me help. I'm here for you. I want to be the person you lean on."

"You think they're going to allow that?" Noa let out a dark laugh. "It hasn't changed that much Zara."

"Don't say that."

I clutched my fingers around my knife in surprise. Were they...together?

"Yakiri," Noa begged. "Leave me now. While you still can."

They started moving again but I was stunned. This finally explained all of Noa's strange behavior around me. Why she'd been willing to risk so much by breaking protocol in South Africa, why she'd been so disappointed in my 'floor show' in Israel. She'd been completely honest with me the entire time - my new decrees had worked in her favor too.

"Don't," Zara sobbed.

There was the sound of a struggle and I stepped out from the shadows, clenching my fist around my switchblade. Noa's eyes went wide with shock and then misery as she tried to keep a crying Zara upright, their magenta and amber gowns intertwining. Zara's head was resting on her shoulder, with one of her hands wiping her tears, while the other attempting to pull Noa closer by wrapping it around her waist. Noa started fumbling for something in her pocket and I pulled out the switchblade and flicked it open, never breaking eye contact.

Zara startled in surprise and spun around, her huge, red-ringed eyes taking in my knife and then flying back to Noa and the small, golden, revolver now in her hand.

"Oh, God!" Zara gasped and took a few stumbling steps in my direction. Noa started to raise the gun. I reached forward and yanked the back of Zara's dress toward me and then put my knife at her throat to use her as a shield.

"Please! Just kill me. Don't hurt her!" Noa pleaded, the gun shaking in her hands.

"Drop your gun," I ordered her.

Noa nodded, raising her hands above her head and then slowly lowering herself to the ground, "end this for me. Please. She doesn't understand. She doesn't know anything."

"What are you talking about?" Zara cried, moving toward her until I pulled the knife closer to her neck. She let out a strangled, frightened noise, but stopped moving. I couldn't trust either of them. And Noa still had the gun at her feet.

"Kick it over," I barked at her and she complied, tears streaming down her face. The gun skid across the highly waxed floors to land in front of Zara. Her hands still above her head Noa begged,

"Don't you understand? He's going to kill me if I do it or if I don't. That's why I told you to forget about me. Get on with your life Zara. I'll just keep holding you back."

Zara slumped with defeat against me. It forced my already shaking arm to struggle more to ensure I didn't accidentally nick her. A door slammed open behind Noa and our standoff broke for a single moment to see dark shadows storming down the hallway toward us.

"You can't do anything can you cousin?" One of the shadows snarled.

"Please! Don't!" Noa yelled toward the voice, arms going wide like she could hold it back. Not that it mattered. The back of a hand broke through the shadows first, striking across Noa's face and forcing her to the ground. The shadow never broke stride, stepping over her body as it stormed into the lights of a chandelier a few yards ahead of me.

Shit. David Melech. With his lapdog, Porsha, trotting next to him.

Now what? Did I push Zara out and grab the gun? Did I keep her as a shield? I wasn't sure. The only thing I did know was that I was too exposed for whatever was about to go down in this hallway. I started dragging Zara back with me toward the alcove, grateful I wasn't trying to move this massive dress and Zara with four-inch heels on.

His hands moved to his back and he swung out a custom Israeli made Jericho that glimmered under all the lights and gold paneled walls. I let out a slow, steadying breath. Human shield then. I yanked Zara closer to the front of me. David rose the gun, aiming first at Noa, but then leveling it toward me. His eyes focused with a mean sneer, I grit my teeth ready to dodge to my left.

Rapid pops went off. I flinched, the knife jerked just enough to knick Zara, her yelp mixed with Porsha's scream and then I watched as David Melech crumpled to the floor in front of us, a pool of blood quickly staining his white tuxedo jacket. My eyes darted to the right to see Jack and Elodie's guns lowering.

My arms dropped with my exhale and Zara scrambled toward Noa - not that it mattered much. All our Order and Saxon security were already converging on the hallway, scooping up all the suspects and dragging them away. I couldn't stand the thought of Noa and Zara being executed in all the confusion. I spotted Roberts' familiar head and shouted toward him,

"Roberts - no more bloodshed tonight!"

"Your Majesty," he bowed toward me and then turned toward the bloody mess on the floor, ordering people around, "take them into custody."

"Alright?" Jack quietly asked coming up on my right. I looked at both of them and nodded.

"The Order spies kept tabs on him all night. Guess we should have moved the ones on Valentina to you." Elodie mused, her face scrunching into disgust as they started to carry David's still dripping body out of the hallway.

I looked away, tightly saying, "sorry."

"It's our job," Jack pacified.

"I don't always make it easy for you to do your job. So thank you," I finished with a sigh. I brought my knife up to examine it, but it just bounced around in my shaking hands.

"You sure you're alright?" Jack moved a step closer to me, as did Elodie.

"You'd think I'd be used to it by now. Someone's always trying to kill me." I answered, looking back down the hall to see it was empty now - except for the puddle of blood.

Jack and Elodie sighed simultaneously and I almost laughed. But the fire that ripped down my left arm choked out even the air in my chest. My knife clattered out of my hand onto the marble floors and the corners of my vision blurred as I tried to struggle in a breath through the pain.

Their voices sounded far away, my knees started to buckle and Elodie grabbed my left arm to steady me.

"Fuck," I screeched, thrashing my arm away from her.

"What?!" They yelled at me as I sank to my knees.

"He's here," I groaned, cradling my numb left hand against my thready heartbeat.

Their heads snapped around the empty hallway as they pulled their guns out again. I dropped back onto my heels, shocked and confused, panting,

"What are you gonna do, shoot him?"

"Maybe," Jack growled, his eyes narrowing at dark corners.

"You can't," I shook my head, shaking out my left arm, anything to try and get the pain to stop. Nothing was going to work. I leaned forward in agony, my palm landing on the knife. I squeezed it in my palm as I struggled back toward my feet.

"Oh, yes we can," Elodie retorted and then slung an arm around my waist to help me stand, her gun still out.

"You can't kill Stellan," I ordered through my teeth, the pain lessening just enough to take a breath.

"After everything he's done to you?" Jack challenged, scooping up the other side of me. Tears flooded my eyes but I forced them back down.

They moved in tandem, half dragging me back toward the door they'd entered from and I shoved them both off, despite the stab of pain it caused my scar.

"Yes, idiots," I growled. "You kill him and you kill the mandate. He has to stay alive. So this is a good thing."

"Subjective," Elodie cracked back.

"Fact," I snapped. Order guards poured out of the door we were moving toward, darting past us and Jack reached over and grabbed my upper arm giving me a good tug,

"He can escape on his own then."

I didn't argue. I just tried to manage my ebbing and flowing pain as we dashed around more unfamiliar guards, through side doors and jogging past galleries. Jack and Elodie kept relaying information and strategizing in short bursts. All I could gather was that the gunshots had spooked all the guests and people had scrambled into all the galleries of the Hermitage, looking for an exit. We marched through room after room of royal red carpets with sky-high white marble pillars. The gold filigree on all the ornate embellishments was starting to blur as my fatigue built. This was all too much for my body to handle, the shock, the stress, the pain, the exercise. Mercifully it abruptly ended when we reached the foyer. We scrambled across some regular tile and pushed through an old swollen wood door to be blasted with freezing wind, the snow chilling my bare feet.

To my left, the magnificent iron gate of the Hermitage clanged in the wind, to my right a huge pile of dirty plowed snow, and in front of me was the massive monolith in the center of the Palace Square jutting up into the dark sky. Our car skidded to a stop from all the ice and Jack yanked me toward it while Elodie helped wrangle my ball gown. A flurry of snow pelted us as we sandwiched into the back seat until the doors finally shut and we took off. The Hermitage was just a smear of sea green and white streaks as our driver illegally speed through the pedestrian part of the Palace Square on his way toward the main thoroughfare.

As the car rumbled over the frozen Neva river I finally allowed myself to breathe again. Short gulps finished mostly with tiny groans as my pain gradually relented the further we got from the palace...and him. I folded my hands in my lap, fiddling with my rings unsure what to say now. Elodie let out an angry huff next to me and the truth started bubbling to the surface, all the secrets, all the pieces to this puzzle that we had been keeping from them. What was the point now? Were they even secrets anymore now that Jack and Elodie had been the ones to take me home from the hospital the second time?

"He can't control it," I whispered to the car. Jack and Elodie stiffened on either side of me. "Not that it's an excuse for what he's done. But he can't. And I can feel it, in my scaring, whenever it activates and ramps up inside him. Anya doesn't know any of this, of course. We want to keep it that way. She's part of the 13th bloodline but we don't want her to suffer through this too. It wouldn't be right. I don't think I was supposed to survive this...either time. But we always disagreed on the interpretation of the mandate."

Jack swallowed hard next to me and I relaxed back into my seat, deep enough that I couldn't see their faces anymore in the darkness of the car. The tires continue to squeal, carrying us further and further from this new disaster I'd created, my growing body count by association. I didn't even want to think about what we were going to have to do with the rest of that group. That was something to worry about tomorrow. Tonight...well tonight was saying all the things we should have been saying to each other from the beginning.

I pressed my lips together, to stop myself from babbling on in the wake of their silence when Elodie threw her hands over her face and let out a long groan. She leaned backward until she was next to me and looked up at the ceiling of the car as she quietly added,

"That's not true."

"El," Jack warned. She shook her head, ignoring him.

"The Order and I have been running all kinds of genetic testing on your blood...both of your blood. It's pointing toward...inheritable abilities...from the tomb," she finished in a whisper.

Silence. My shocked silence made them both freeze again. We jostled into each other a few times as the car bumped along until I cleared my throat,

"You're saying our baby?"

"Yes."

I clenched my still aching fist as tight as I could, the diamond digging into the fleshy part of my palm. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and shook it out, settling it onto my stomach. We all let out a long sigh together and I pressed my hand harder into my stomach through all the layers of my dress. It hurt to hear that. It was too soon, too raw and feral inside my chest to try and tame any kind of reaction to that knowledge. Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest,

"Anything else?"

They shook their heads. Jack leaned forward onto his knees, holding his head in his hands, his fingers digging into all his windswept hair. I watched the streaking lights from the street lamps pass over him for a few beats when Elodie's angry voice filled our car,

"How can you still want to protect him? He ruined everything!" She fidgeted in her seat next to me, scowling, and finished with, "I can't forgive him."

I didn't really expect them to understand. I was still grappling with how I felt exactly. But I'd be lying to myself if I didn't acknowledge there was a part of me that had wished he was the one that appeared in the hallway tonight - not Jack and Elodie. Like he'd always done for me. Like I still wanted him too. And he had tried, he was here, my aching arm was a testament to that. It just wasn't enough. No matter how desperately we wanted it to be. How could I explain to them that I wanted to protect the man that loved and understood the real me, without ripping my heart from my chest as proof? How I couldn't condemn him to exile for these mistakes? They would have to be atoned for, of course, but my life just didn't make sense without him in it. Even now.

The car took a sharp turn toward the airport and the stabbing, burning, throb in my scar finally started to unravel. I suddenly and achingly wanted to go home - to Riberton. I wanted to wrap the gigantic, fuzzy, yellow blanket Anya had given me for Christmas around myself and fall asleep on top of our empty, orange, sheets. To sleep until this all started to make sense again. And in my mind's eye, I had a flash of Elodie's room and realized a way they might start to understand.

"We just wanted what everyone else gets to have," I sighed. "Morning showers, inside jokes, twisted sheets. But I suppose the price of what we are is too high for that."

"Avery," Jack's voice rumbled low in his chest.

"I'm not asking you to understand," I interrupted him. "But he's my family and I'll protect him. I'll protect all of you with everything I have. For as long as I can."

The car dipped into silence again and I leaned my head against Elodie's shoulder, the fatigue starting to demand relief. Jack clenched his jaw and turned to look out the window at the same moment that Elodie let out a loud sniffle. I hadn't meant to upset them, but then again that's all that kept happening lately. It had been a long fucking month. I slid my hands out from their hold in my lap and grabbed onto each of their forearms, squeezing tight for a moment until my exhaustion finally won out.

I let out a low whisper, "don't be mad about the shoes."