Silence. Pure silence.
Wait, no. There it was. Footsteps.
Alina pressed against a tree trunk. Her ears attuned to the atmosphere under the stretch of trees. She listened intently. The footsteps came nearer. They moved steadily.
Why do you run, Alina? Where is there to go?
He was close. Aleksander pulled at the tether that bonded them, thick and swollen now with tension and longing.
The darkness of the forest moved like familiar shadows. She spun as she watched them. Eyes lost to the hidden motion beneath the canopy.
"Go, Alina. Go." Mal whispered suddenly.
Clarity ripped through the haze of her mind. Shadows retreated. Her feet shot out beneath her. The adrenaline surged through the tissues of her body in a tidal wave. It moved at instruction although she knew it was not long before it would bring her to her knees. She moved through the trees in a weave to block any attacks from the following Grisha. Their powers would knock her on her ass if she didn't try to avoid them.
Mal's footsteps came behind her. He ran faster.
The Grisha were close. He was near.
Their hands joined as they ran. It helped Mal drag her along as his feet moved faster and faster. Over rocks, fallen branches, hills, dense thickets. The forest was filled with obstacles. It slowed their progress.
Shu Han rested just on the other side. It was within reach.
Only, they were within reach of General Kirigan. His troops were right on the trail, trying to capture them before they entered the forbidden territory. A large band of Ravkan soldiers would not escape the Shu's notice. Two refugees might, but not all the colored keftas in pursuit.
I will not stop at the border. I will not stop searching until you are back within my arms. The voice echoed through her mind. Shadows went blacker as they ran past. She tried to fight the allure of his voice. Stop running, Alina. You do not wish to leave.
The connection between them shared more than just words. It conveyed feelings. His strong urgency dripped through the tethered cord that linked them together.
Ever since she left Os Alta, she resisted the bond. She forgot to block it completely from her mind.
The intoxicating draw that was the General was not something she trusted herself around.
He was her weakness, her desire, the fault in her morality that she pretended to not exist.
You're right, she spoke through their bond, I do not wish to leave what you were. I run from what you are.
Deeper into the forest they ran. They put great effort to avoid detection. Mal did so effortlessly while Alina struggled to keep up. Her endurance was spent. The journey worn them both thin, her thinner than him, but they were trapped at the end of their own broken bodies with no hope for escape. The only hope they had was to evade. Hide. It would keep them alive the longest.
A flicker of bright color caught the edge of Alina's view. She pushed Mal behind a fallen log.
A line of sight meant a line of attack.
They moved down low until they reached a thicket which protected them from eyesight, then they ran. Leaves underfoot crisp and noisy, announced their path like a beacon. She hopped as often as she could to prevent the noise.
"This way," Mal said as he pushed her to the side. "Hide."
There was a blue spruce thick with low hanging branches. It came into view. Alina centered her journey on it. They couldn't outrun the descending Grisha forever. The only chance was to lose them in the forest. It had to be now.
That tracker cannot out last the whole Second Army. He cannot outlast me. Aleksander's voice ripped through her thoughts with anger.
By luck, she slid beneath the skirt of prickly needles into the soft dirt beneath the tree. The branches hanged low. They scratched her face as she maneuvered. It was a slick hiss of motion that she stopped as quickly as she could.
She swallowed back her breath. Tension filled her face, her eyes, her throat, to hold it so hard.
Mal had surpassed the tree. She thought she saw him jump up onto a branch of another nearby tree, but it was all so fast. There was no way to be sure he hadn't run further into the woods out of reach.
Alina laid against the ground, belly down. Her face craned through a split in the needles to watch for the colors. Blue, red, purple. She knew they were out there. Waiting. Stalking them through the trees like predators for prey.
Adrenaline flooded her limbs in waves. The aches of being two months on the run, the weariness of her pregnancy, the lack of energy she had to spare, improper sleep on the hard ground were there, below the surface of adrenaline's facade. She felt them every morning she rose and every night she laid down to rest. The only difference was her body was primed for flight. It knew that she had to escape. To escape, she had to outrun her own body ails.
She heard footsteps through the eerie quiet. The forest was a silent thing, an alarm built for every action beneath its protection. Leaves that betrayed her own steps now alerted her to others.
The ground shuddered with the thick footsteps, steady and confident. Grisha.
Her fingers were buried in the soft earth below the tree and tingled with each descending footstep, closer and closer to her location.
I will find you, my Alina.
It was agony as she waited eons for them to be close enough to smell. Just outside the protection of her tree stood two Grisha. Two blues. She caught glimpses of the kefta through the dense covering of needles. A Tidemaker and Inferni.
She relaxed with the stroke of luck that it was not a Heartrender or Durast. Their Grisha magic aided their tracking abilities. A Heartrender would find her pulse. A Durast would sense the unnatural materials on her body. Both were her enemy.
The Tidemaker and Inferni, however, were easy enough to escape. If she wasn't stupid.
Neither Grisha spoke a word. They only used hand signals to communicate with one another. A trick General Kirigan taught his Second Army to use to avoid detection.
The two used their hands, faces, eyes to convey something. They pointed off in different directions. Neither seemed to agree which way to go. It was awkward to smell the scent of their colognes within the hiding spot yet have to remain so still like they were not close enough to touch her if they reached their hands inside the cover of sappy needles. They were so close. Alina held her breath and waited, sure they'd discover her and drag her back to Little Palace without Mal's notice. He'd be stuck in the trees looking for her forever.
The Tidemaker stepped away first. She headed closer inside to the heart of the forest. The Inferni moved straight ahead on the path Mal and Alina had been on before they hid.
Their exit was silent. The crunch of leaves was lost to the fresh growth of vegetation on the ground floor. Green plants protected their every step this close to the edge of the treeline.
It made the hunt all the more deadly.
Alina emerged as slow and quiet as possible. The fingers of the branches dragged along the sides of her face, slicing her dry flesh with their spines. She gritted her teeth and pushed through the embrace until she was free of the tree's protection.
All that answered her was a quiet forest. Pure isolation. Silence. Loneliness amongst the trees.
Mal. How would she find him again? There was no way to yell his name. Or search for him with all the Grisha about.
Saints, what should she do? Waiting was not an option. A Grisha hunter would stumble upon her eventually. Yet, what else could she do? Abandoning Mal was not an option either. He was all she had in the world besides the child growing inside her. There were so few things she had. Mal had to be one of them she kept.
A branch cracked above her head. Coldness shot down through her limbs. The twisting in her gut turned tight as she felt the presence of eyes on her.
She looked up.
Mal hanged from a branch. His feet dangled freely above her head. She stepped aside and his body fell from the heights down the ground.
Alina was at his side. "Saints, I thought I lost you."
"We've got to get out of the trees. They're all over." Mal's finger pointed to the tree line. "We've got to break away. Head out in a different direction."
"They'll see us without the cover," Alina whispered.
She did not want to leave the forest. It was all they had to protect themselves.
"There are too many here. We have to try to get away. They'll keep pushing forward. We'll break away. Head east again until we are far enough away."
East. Again.
They moved quickly to the edge of the forest. A meadow with flowy grasses answered their prayers. They jumped inside. It helped hide their trail from their hunters as they moved farther away.
It seemed easy enough to run through grass no matter how tall or overgrown, but the opposite was true. The endless flow of blades of grass over their heads confused them. Their path was twisted and weaved. It was like water, confusing and unable to see through. Which way was which? Had they gotten turned around?
The endless meadow opened back to endless open ground with short kept grasses and hills.
She looked to Mal with doubt. He shook his head. They had no choice.
He kept hold of her hand as they moved. It kept them anchored to one another as they fled. They were in the clear.
Only, a flicker of red out of the corner of her eye caught Alina's attention. It was close. Chasing after them.
Her heart stopped. A Heartrender!
"No!" She exclaimed.
Her hand pulled Mal to the ground and dropped atop of him. A Heartrender couldn't stop his heart if they were close together. They wouldn't be able to discern whose was who.
"Alina! What are you doing?" Mal fought against her.
Soon enough, the Heartrender was there. He was poised with crossed hands right in front of them.
"Here!" His voice carried on the air for what felt like miles. It echoed through the beyond.
"Let me up!" Mal tried to kick his way to standing.
"No! If you stand up, he'll stop your heart in an instant."
Found you.
"We have to try." He grunted against her body. He was strong, yes. But the constant run left him drained. Now that they were stopped, it would be impossible to start again. Their bodies were empty. There was nothing left to give.
Alina's eyes were teary when she pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead. "No, Mal. We cannot win this fight."
It was a matter of minutes before other Grisha surrounded. They were all so close. There was no chance Mal and Alina could have escaped. Zoya stood there. Her eyes burned with hatred, perhaps at Alina or the fact that she'd been caught after being released once before. She stood like her other comrades, in line, without a shred of expression that hinted to their prior encounter.
The Grisha encompassed them. Their hands all formed as weapons within their palms.
"Burn them," Mal urged. "Use your power. Blind them."
Alina gasped. "I can't do that."
"What even is the point of living in a special palace if you aren't going to use your powers?"
That was unfair and rank with bitterness. He begged her to conceal her powers, pretend they didn't exist, and yet, the moment he needed them, he'd use them, as a weapon of his own.
Pretty soon, Alina felt it. A darkening presence on the rise. Mal noticed the change as it splintered through her body. His eyes traveled back and forth across her face in worry. It wasn't until he realized why.
The Black General.
"For Saints sake, the one to harm Miss Starkov will be the one to meet the end of my hand." Aleksander's voice boomed loudly, with strength. "Put your hands down."
His voice. It moved through Alina's body. Something about it eased the tension that had grown within her.
Mal's body was beneath hers. She protected him like a shield.
"Malyen Oretsev, you are under arrest for the abduction of Alina Starkov," Aleksander said. His tone was tense, restrained. She felt the threat in his voice. "Take him away."
"No, please," Alina pleaded. "He didn't do anything."
"Miss Starkov, please move away," A Durast instructed. They held thick metal chains.
There was no way out of the situation without being captured. Mal would be taken to Little Palace. He wasn't to be returned to the First Army. Not unless she protected him.
Alina raised her head to find the intense gaze of Aleksander through the crowd of many faces. "Please," she begged. "I'll return with you. I'll return to Little Palace without a fight, if you promise not to hurt him."
"Alina, don't." Mal shook his head.
"You'll return with me?" The General asked.
She nodded. "I will."
"Very well."
Mal shook his head viciously. "No!"
His arms wrapped around her waist and pushed her aside. The moment he did, a Heartrender's hands crossed and pushed out through the air. Mal's hand went to his chest. His eyes bulged.
"No!" cried Alina. "Stop. You're killing him."
Mal dropped to the ground. His body now useless and limp like a corpse.
Her body shuddered. The lifeless look in his eyes rippled through her mind.
She was the cause of this. It was her fault.
The Durast clinked the shackles around Mal's wrists. His head lolled back as he was lifted by his arms, unable to support an ounce of himself. The Grisha moved him. All about Alina was forgotten.
She stood there, alone, cold, shocked. Her body felt nothing but weariness. Words failed her lips. There was nothing, only emptiness.
Aleksander remained where he was, as Grisha moved all around him. His eyes remained fixed in the broken, numb mess that was Alina Starkov, the beloved Sun Summoner.
It was not the end she hoped for. A life in the Little Palace with Aleksander was what she hoped for, but only back, before Baghra told the truth of his identity. His lies. They were imaginary what-if's of insecurity, not blaring truths stabbed within her heart.
Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. So much pain for a journey that ended without completion.
A red kefta approached her. They touched her elbow gently. The pace of her heart calmed from frantic high to a soft low. Her eyes suddenly grew heavy. "Come," the voice lured. "Let's get you some rest."
She nodded, half asleep already. "Thank you."
"Your heart beats so fast," they muttered softly.
The rest of the journey was spotty. She didn't remember making camp. Or falling into a cot, but yet she did. Every inch of her body was supported on a heavenly soft bed. Warmth. Thick furs and blankets were placed on top of her that sank through to the unspeakable depths of her bones, still chilled by the endless chill of the wilderness.
There was a memory that stuck through. Like a dream.
Aleksander was there, at the edge of her bed. He watched her sleep. His face twisted with concern. All the darkness of the tent dense as his shadows suffocated out the world.
The faint lines of fingertips across her cheeks, she knew to belong to him. Her body memorized his touch. It anxiously awaited their return and tingled with delirium at the connection. For a moment, she pictured Aleksander laid in bed alongside her, healing her with his heartbeat against her chest, cuddled around her in protective hold.
She remembered the sound of his voice. The way it moved through the air.
"Have her tended to. Send in Genya when she wakes. Ensure she has a hot meal. She likes blackberries. Bathe and clothe her. Heal everything. Genya will know what to do." He spoke to a figure of white. Wait, no. A person in a white kefta. "Give her everything she needs. Alert me when she is comfortable."
The watery words babbled until it became nothing but the thick blanket of slumber.
A sharp smell awakened Alina from sleep. Her eyes snapped open. She smelled the floating scent of dinner being cooked. Warm juicy delicious smells ghosted in on the soft breeze. Late evening sky rested outside the opening of the tent. Roasted chicken. Potatoes. Saints, her stomach groaned when she pictured what kind of foods it belonged to.
She rose to sitting. Sweat drained from her limbs as cool night air rushed to greet her. The multiple blankets dropped to the floor in a defeated heap.
It was morning the last she remembered. Their run through the forest was in the early morning hours when the Grisha had found her and Mal…
Mal!
She jumped to the ground, and nearly cried out from the answering pain that split through her body. Muscles upon muscles screeched their distaste in movement. They ached and burned. It took her breath away to experience their wrath.
"Saints," she muttered as she sat back down.
The linen white shirt was all she wore. It exposed her bare legs to the world, what a harsh sight it was. Bruises. There were black and blue and purple of every shape and size. Some were a sickly yellow.
Her lips sloped to a grimace at the horrid appearance. She tucked them back into the bed where they wouldn't be seen.
A woman strolled in a time later. There was food on the tray between her stretched arms. She placed it across Alina's lap in total silence.
It was filled with an assortment of food. Some warm, some fresh. There was a large bowl of the most luscious blackberries she'd ever seen. She stuffed them all inside her mouth. Tart, sweet juices burst against her tongue. Her mind went delirious from hunger.
She ate the entire tray. Cooked mushrooms, hot to the touch, went down her throat whole. She ate piece after piece of meat until there was none left. There were buns. She slathered them with herbed butter and enjoyed their crusty crunch with each bite. And cheese! She pressed them against her nose. Ah, their stink filled her with satisfaction.
She fell back atop the bed, unable to survive another bite of food, to let it all soak in to her tired body. The physical act of eating perked her instantly. Her mind sharpened.
The tent was warm with an overstocked fire blazing. It was domed and oversized, as was everything the Little Palace did for her. Furniture similar to those in her room at the Little Palace were scattered about. Her trunk full of her personal items was at the end of her cot. The black kefta laid there in wait.
The same black kefta she wore the night of the Winter Fete. The night she was stolen away. The night she gave herself to Alek's control.
Her hands drifted down to the soft bump of her belly. The bloat of a good meal left it with a false impression of the size of her baby.
"You've eaten your fill, I see." A voice sang softly through the air.
Alina rose to sitting with a smile on her face. "Genya!"
"Don't get up." The Tailor put an arm out to stop Alina. "You need your rest. You must be exhausted."
Genya sat on the side of the mattress. Her smile was worth the wait of the months apart. Alina could barely contain her joy. She wrapped her arms around the woman's shoulders. The feeling of a friend. It was better than the loneliness of everything.
"I've missed you," she admitted.
"We've all missed you, Alina." The redhead gave that knowing look. Like she was not going to mention all the chaos she caused but wanted to make a point that it was a huge mistake. "I was so worried."
"I'm sorry."
Alina swallowed. She was uncertain what to say. It was true that she ran away. Mal did not force her to. She allowed herself to follow his lead no matter how much she yearned to turn back.
There waged a battle over her mind, what she should feel, whom she harbor her anger the most.
"I'm not here for answers, Alina. There will be another to come for those." That meant Aleksander. The Tailor tapped her leg. "I've come to look you over. Fix these nasty little cuts on your face."
Alina grimaced. "If you think those are awful, you should see my legs."
"What's happened to your legs?"
The drawn blankets exposed their dour appearance.
Genya was taken aback. "Have you gotten rocks thrown at you?"
"No." Alina winced. "I've fallen against the rocks."
"Oh Saints."
The woman stretched her hands across the pair of legs. She worked the skin massaging it gently beneath her fingertips until the color released from the bruises and returned to the normal tone. It made all the difference. Genya stood back to survey the work.
"If they are tender, I can call for a Healer."
"Please, don't. I don't want to see anyone else."
Genya paused. "Not even the General."
Alina shook her head. "Especially not him."
"Hm." Was all that was said on that note.
The work on Alina's face required more precision. She kept quiet as Genya worked. There was great concentration on her face as she focused on every individual cut across her cheeks and beneath her eyes.
The last cut was nearly fixed when a strong wave hit Alina. Both of her arms shot out to steady her against the bed.
"Alina?" Genya retracted. "What's wrong?"
Pools of salvia formed. "Oh, no."
Every last bit of her meal was retched back into the world in the wrong way. Alina vomited over and over. It was tinged black and blue from all the berries. An awful smell filled the tent.
Genya held onto her hair as Alina vomited. She called for the servants in white keftas. They surrounded the mess and started to clean even as Alina continued to dry heave.
A hot bath was poured into a white porcelain tub. The servants eased Alina into the steaming waters while her stolen clothes soiled from dirt and life on the run were promptly burned.
Genya sat alongside the tub as Alina rested. Her eyes cascaded over the long, weary face.
Her fingers ghosted across Alina's collarbone where a small cut lived.
"You've not asked," Alina murmured. Her eyes raised from the ripples of the water to Genya's curious gaze. "You haven't asked why I left. You must be wondering."
Genya shrugged. "The night of the Winter Fete was pandemonium. There is no shame in being frightened."
Frightened of royals? Was that how weak they presumed her?
"That's not why."
Amber eyes lifted to meet hers. "Oh."
"General Kirigan lied to me."
"Lied to you?"
"Yes," she said. "And he went through my letters. He didn't send them to Mal. He spied on me."
"Really?"
"Yes. He lied to me about everything."
A slender red brow quirked. "He told you so?"
"Well, no."
"Then how do you know?"
"Somebody told me."
"Are they reliable?" Genya drizzled scented oil onto Alina's shoulders. Her hands spread the slick across the stretch of Alina's skin.
Alina's confidence faltered. The determination slipped from her eyes.
She exhaled. "I'm not sure."
"Who is it? Perhaps my judgement is better."
There was no reason to distrust Genya. She was a dear friend. However, the thoughts of secrets buried below false faces halted the thought to answer. Could she trust Genya? She was a devoted Second Army Tailor. Her loyalty to Aleksander was unyielded.
If what Alina learned was true, there was no doubt that Genya's reliability as a confidant was compromised. Especially of her condition. Was there a way to keep Alek's parentage to the baby hidden from him if Genya knew?
She proceeded with careful precision. "Baghra."
"Baghra?" The doubt seeped through though a very subtle twitch came to the Genya's lips as her attention became more attuned to the conversation. "She is a wise woman, mysterious in her ways of training." Her hands continued to smear the oil across Alina's flesh. "Perhaps it was a trial. A test of willpower. There will be many trials in your life as the Sun Saint. Baghra is wise enough to see this…It is not beyond imagination that she fabricated a story to prepare you."
Alina found herself yet again shattered by indecision. That was all very possible. Except for the way that night happened…she did not know what to do, who to trust.
The only one she wanted to be with was Aleksander, and there was no explanation that she wouldn't amuse for the idea of reuniting with him. However, the image of the stag flashed to mind. It was stolen from her letters. Letters that were meant to be private, attached to a friend, to have comfort in the new world Alek had thrown her into.
Her hopes of Alek's innocence were placed back down deep in her desires where they lived. It was not the time to allow them to rule. Not yet.
"It was not a test," she said with her utmost confidence. "Baghra urged me to flee before it was too late."
The redhead grew instantly concerned, despite the silence of her voice. She saw the expression change. Genya was moved. She stood soon after and left the room.
There was little to do other than wait. News of Baghra's condition would spread if something happened. Marie could not contain herself from idle Palace gossip. It was all Alina could do to riddle out who was true to their word.
Alina climbed from the depths of the tub. She found her Palace clothing, ignored the black kefta, and placed a simple flowing dress without a corset top over her body. The servants aided her in dressing. It was a blue gown with a panel of white down the center. Her feet still ached as she walked, so she kept them bare. They were hidden behind her skirts out of sight from prying eyes.
The servant offered her another tray of delectable treats. Crackers and cheeses and fruits. Green grapes the size of eyeballs.
She ate them with vigor. Food. It never tasted so sweet.
All too soon she remembered why she was hungry; her body rejected all nourishment. It projected it all back up in a violent exertion. The mess left the servants yet again cleaning the room and herself.
"Is she ill?" She heard erupt from outside the canvas tent. It was Aleksander.
"She's gone so long without food that her body won't process it," a voice answered. "It's common. It will take some time for her to adjust back."
"Can you fix it?" Aleksander asked roughly. His impatience shined through.
Alina listened intently to the conversation, though there was much noise above the sound, she heard every breath he took. She felt the tension in his chest, his anger and impatience.
"Nothing can. Only time. We'll give her small amounts of food. Bites, here and there until her tolerance returns."
There was an exasperated pause. Aleksander drew in a long breath. A forced calm swept through the air.
"I want to see her," he said. "As soon as possible."
"She's exhausted. It might take her days to recover strong enough."
Days? She couldn't go days without seeing him.
Only. What would she say if she did? There was the fact that she missed him. Her body longed to have him touch her again. Devilish delight spread throughout her body as it remembered the last time it was touched by Alek's hot grasp.
Of course, then came the devastation that came after. His lies. The betrayal. The fabrication of everything he ever said to her as a way to keep her trapped by him.
Her head fell into her hands. The riddle to the situation would not resolve, no matter how hard she tried to.
"Does your head hurt?" His voice suddenly erupted through the calm.
She jolted alive. Her body tensed.
"No," she answered softly.
"I see." He stood proud and tall. There was no question whether he should be there inside her tent nor if she wanted to see him. Aleksander stood like a man with every right. "They tell me," he licked his lips, "you are not well."
Tears came to her eyes without warning. Saints, why did she feel so heartbroken? His beauty was beyond compare. The darkness, the shadows, they all greeted her with open arms. They called her home. The light within her chest wanted it, too.
She swallowed. "The food," her voice trembled like she was on the edge of sobs. She restrained her throat from whimpering. "I can't keep it down."
"Perhaps, a drink then?" He gestured to the large pitcher of clear water. Not tainted with mud or insects. What a luxury.
She forced a polite smile. "Perhaps."
A stilted silence splintered between them. Both the unnatural, tense nature of it rise up within their lungs and spread throughout the air like toxic gas. Neither dared to taint themselves.
Alina sat cross legged on her cot while Aleksander stood some distance away. She deflected his gaze often, never lingering on a thing for too long, no matter the allure of his gaze. It would unravel her. He had that power.
Her heart still desired him in denial of reality.
"Where is Mal?" She asked quietly. The question of her friend's whereabout was really a question of his truthfulness. Mal was in camp. Alek would not send him away. There was too much power between them. And if Mal was dead, she would never trust him again.
Aleksander's throat clenched. "He's not been harmed. Just as you asked."
She did her best to hide her relief. Thank the Saints for small miracles, she thought.
"If…" her mouth spoke before she'd really thought about it, "I ask you to send him back to the First Army, will you?"
"I believe we should discuss some things before I make any deals," he stated firmly.
He would not let the question of her escape rest.
She sighed. "I need some time."
"Alina…"
"I'm very tired," she explained. "I'd like to sleep."
His chin dropped. "Of course," he grumbled it a bit too begrudgingly. "I'll send some Healers in to tend to you in the morning."
Healers. They would riddle out her condition too swift.
Her heart started to panic. She searched the folds of her mind for an answer somewhere, anywhere, that might hold off on the discovery of her pregnancy until she decided what she might do: lie and be truthful.
"Actually, I'd prefer Genya."
The solemn of his face remained firm. "She is not a proper Healer."
"I don't need healing," Alina said stiffly. "I need comfort. She is a comfort."
His shadows snapped out at the canvas tent wall as a whip of frustration. "Fine."
He left in a flurry of shadow as he stormed outside into the fresh air. The air rushed inside. It blew back her hair with the tingles of chilled darkness. Her face relished the relief of the heat. The heat of the unspoken traumas between them burned hotter than the blazing hearth that filled the tent in stifling warmth that dripped down the length of her spine in swollen beads of sweat.
Aleksander was every bit as alluring as she remembered him. He was the man who held her heart between his hands without knowing just how heavy it was. She would always love him. That was a loyalty that would never be broken.
It was not the darkness that frightened her. The darkness was opposite her blaring light: it cooled and shaded and comforted those under the pressures of everlasting brightness. Shadows were beautiful. She needed them to calm her growing rages that burst forth from her insides. They balanced the power of the world.
No, it was not darkness, but his insecurity. Insecurity that laced his throat when she mentioned Mal. His insecurity was what opened those letters that were meant for Mal, for her friend, not Aleksander.
Romance between Mal was long dead. It started before General Kirigan whisked her away to Little Palace. In truth, it might have never been possible. Alina yearned for something more than what Mal did. The world was larger than farms and meadows.
Aleksander was a man she gave her body to. She allowed herself to be bonded, offered a connection deeper than anything two humans would know, and wore his color all to prove the depth of her feelings for him.
The fact there was question still in his mind enraged her enough to avoid him out of spite.
She would not feed a twisted evil like insecurity. It was gray between their light and dark. The slippery devil of morally gray confliction that she could not fan to flame.
All of the spinning, angering, stupid thoughts in her head made her tired. She laid down within her cot. The silky blanket slipped over her body like a soft hug and protected her for the outside. Her heart slowed. Images of Aleksander and Mal slipped to darkness. Her mind loosened grip until it all faded from view.
Aleksander was too difficult to forget. The moment she began to dream was the moment his face popped back into view. That smile she loved to elicit when she surprised him. The kiss they shared first, how he remarked how unprepared for her he was. Then again, in his bed chamber when she invited herself to him. Nothing was done without her choice. He moved through motions she granted and refused to continue unless she permitted him to do so.
His hot breath against her face. The way he leaned his face against hers, seemingly weak and powerless in her presence. Alina replayed the memory of his indifference washed away from his face, lost in the bliss of pleasure as their two bodies grinded together. It was so real. So genuine.
She awoke that morning with a familiar smell trapped within her sheets. Liquid desire seeped from her body with his memory as the only stimulant.
The daze of starvation and fear lifted from her mind. Food made it happen quicker.
A few pieces of bread and only a handful of blackberries slipped through her mouth that morning, but they stayed seated within her stomach the entire time. The sugar of the berries revitalized her thoughts. The foggy glasses over her eyes dissipated. Reality full set against the harsh backdrop.
Mal was imprisoned somewhere. She was fully aware that he was her responsibility.
Aleksander entered Alina's tent that morning the moment she was finished with her morning routine. Her hair was brushed loose, only the front sections near her face were twisted back and pinned in place. A dress was replaced with a loose tunic and trousers. The swell of her stomach was nonexistent. Still, she felt the slight bloat of her stomach with the impending baby bump would allude to things she was not ready to reveal.
She stood calm and collected when he entered. Arms crossed against her chest, she requested to visit Mal.
"I need to know you've kept your word."
The shoulders below his black kefta went rigid and high in their socket. "You believe your friend in harms way under my command?"
"Mal wouldn't be in this place if it wasn't for me." She stood firm. Her face reflected the resolution of her request. It gave no hint of the emotions below. "I need to ensure he's being taken care of."
"He is."
"I'd like to see it for myself."
His arms dropped down to the arms crossed against her chest. He calculated what it meant. Alina was not forceful at Little Palace. She never had a reason to be. However, now, was a moment where her stubbornness shined through. A friend depended on her.
General Kirigan was a frightening man. The world trembled when he walked. More feared than their very own king. The nature of shadow summoning was rare and feared for evil.
Alina knew he was not evil. She knew not to fear him. She knew that when she drew close to him, the subtle catch of his breath. There was power inside her. It reigned over him like a crown.
"I'll arrange it," he answered flatly. He read her right.
Not entirely.
"Just like you arranged for Mal to see me at Little Palace?" She snipped back. Her arms clenched tighter. "I want to see him right now."
Aleksander spoke through gritted teeth. "You were best focused elsewhere. Your excitement over his arrival would have distracted you."
"And now, you deny me him because I am better focused on you?"
"No, because you are in great need of rest," he hissed sharply.
"I need to see Mal. Right now."
"You've seen him enough," he said. His control momentarily slipped, and the verge of his insecurity peaked out. "Haven't you tired of him by now? I saw the look on your face; when he asked you to attack your own kind. You are angry with him. By his disregard of your true self. Your growth and strength on your own. I'd venture that he is even frightened of it. Does his best to keep you from being who you are with me."
An invisible shudder shook her core. It rattled the very resolution she built up all morning.
It was not by a letter that he knew it. Something else peered right into her soul to dig up the truth and showed it to her for her to see. Only, she turned away to not look at it.
"He wasn't afraid to step in harm's way. He rescued me from -."
"From yourself? Your power. Who you truly are." His tongue clicked in correction. It stung as it lashed against her flesh. "That is not rescue. That is a tether. A tether to be the orphan girl you were. The girl who refused to enjoy their life if he wasn't part of it. A girl who wrote letters every day to beg for his forgiveness of her own sainthood!"
Rage bubbled inside her.
"You made me think that Mal forgot me!" Alina shouted.
Control, gone.
"I was protecting you."
"Protecting me? From my only friend in the whole world…you knew how important he was to me."
Her voice was shrill and shaky. The power of her rage fluttered with doubt.
Oh yes, she was angry. She was angry that Alek ruined something so perfect and precious. Them. They could have been them, easily.
"You are a Grisha. Not some First Army cartographer. Not some safety net for a man who didn't appreciate you in the first place!" His breath was ragged. Two of his hands reached out to grip her shoulders. "You are much more than that."
Tears filled her eyes as she pulled away. It was tainted, poisoned words. They were words she yearned for most in the world, as a child, growing up alone and forgotten by the world, desperate for love that she only found another just like her and ached when that one person went on grand adventures without her. She wanted to matter. She wanted more.
Aleksander was the sole confidant in which she shared the indecision of her friend. It was private information that he was intimately aware of. He'd just thrown them right back in her face.
"I only have your best interests at heart, Li."
Li.
That beautiful name he called her in the throes of their passion. The way it grunted from his throat as he was in raptures at how she felt around him, inside, warm and welcoming.
Angry tears dripped down her cheeks. "You only want me for yourself. You're punishing me for having someone outside of you. You said it yourself. You don't share."
His voice was just as strong back at her. "I protect your heart."
Darkness gripped the world around her. The edges filled in with nothing but black shadow, creeping closer and closer, wanting to devour her whole.
"I have known the adoration of a mortal human. I have felt its decay as it delivers their bodies to undying lands while we must be forced to walk upon this land, undying beasts in a land of death. Your heart, my Alina, will mourn your friend's passing. It is better now that you learn to live without him than lose centuries of yourself in grief."
Alina's inner strength plummeted to the ground. It laid at her feet, limp and lifeless.
Her eyes were wide with shock. "I'm – I'm – I'll never…?"
"Furthermore, look at what you've done without him. Look at who you are. Look at yourself in a mirror. He could hardly recognize you, could he?" He was soft and comforting. He drew nearer. Alina hadn't the strength to pull away. Their eyes stayed locked together. Ghost fingertips ran down the backs of her arms. "He is the reason you repressed yourself. You made yourself sick and weak to be with him."
A steady stream of tears trickled down her face. His eyes never left hers. They were filled with emotion, too, as devastation shredded her from the inside out.
"All I want is you to be who you are. Unashamed. Supported. Protected from those who would ask you to kill yourself to make their lives less conflicted by your existence." He gently held onto her now. "They will suffocate your beautiful light. They would rather have the entire world in darkness rather than accept your light."
Aleksander was stronger. Stronger than she took him for.
Or, it was the unnatural bond she felt to him. His breath was against her face. The sweetness of his taste in the air, so near her tongue to taste.
How she craved his touch. It was through a thin linen tunic, but the distance between their skins might have been continents away, it made no difference. She felt the separation of their flesh, the divide in their connection.
"What about your own darkness, Alek? What of your own demons that suffocate my light?"
A change splintered through his eyes. Disbelief mixed with frustration.
"What are you talking about?"
"You told me a story once, about a boy, alone and cursed to bear the weight of the past…only, it was a fallacy. A creation of emotions that you cannot feel."
The strength of his grip on her shoulders released. His dark eyes appraised her face. He put further distance.
He was right to do so.
"I've never lied to you, Li."
"Then look me in the eye right now and tell me that you were not the one who created the Fold."
The shatter of glass splintered less than the shards of her heart. For all the hope she held that Baghra might be wrong, that Mal's rescue wasn't needed, that there was truth in the connection she felt with Aleksander, were all shattered when the strength of his eyes broke away from her hold.
Her jaw clenched – not in anger but in restraint of sobs. "You're despicable. Coward. Loathsome, evil, ambitious snake! You've ruined our country. So many innocents have been slaughtered in that abomination you formed. The Black Heretic. They might have called you the Devil, for that's what you are. A lonesome throne of deceit in the land of bastards. You are well suited for your title." Oh, yes. Venom filled her now. It bubbled with green toxic bite in wait for the perfect moment. She allowed herself a forced smirk. It almost broke her heart to pretend to be so delighted. "You might have been so pleased with yourself to have won over my affections that night as a predestined true love, but I was only lonely. I missed Mal. I would have tumbled around with anyone. Even you."
The venom worked well. She knew it infected right where she wanted.
Its reach, however, was not broadcasted to also infect the one who bared it; her heart stung with revulsion. Having said something so awful to a man she still held loyalty for felt a betrayal to her insides. Her throat lurched in a sudden upset retch.
She retreated away from his presence, too frightened to cry in front of the Devil himself.
"Leave," she hollowly bellowed. "Leave and never come back."
The strength of his presence faded. The growing shadows dissipated to nothing but emptiness.
"You may make me your villain, Alina, but I'll never be against you."