"They slipped a Deadman into her life and we didn't even know about it." Jellal gripped the steering wheel tighter as he drove across the Brooklyn Bridge, heading back into Manhattan.

The traffic on the bridge moved at a snail's pace. A wreck forced cars to crawl across the bridge, brake lights glowing red as far as they could see. Erza ground her teeth together. The slow pace gave her time to think about the shocking news they had discovered, and the more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

"We're failing, Jellal." Erza balled her hands into fists.

"But we can't interfere. If we do, it'll put Lucy in even more danger." She heard the frustration in his voice and it echoed her own. If the Organization assisted her, she would become a target. She had to remain off their radar. There were darker dangers still lurking in the Underworld.

Erza lost control of her anger and punched the dash, denting it. She glanced at Jellal, an apology on her lips. Before she could voice it, Jellal took her hand in his. It amazed Erza how he could say so much with a simple gesture.

"She's not alone though," Jellal pointed out. "The Salamander is involved and he's an army on his own. And that little spitfire made even First take action."

Shadowgear. Erza smirked, remembering the tiny woman and how she had stood up to her. She had surprised Erza, and that didn't happen often. There were questions Erza had for First when she reported in. Hopefully, there would be answers.

"What interesting friends she has," Erza said, squeezing Jellal's hand. "I can only hope they are enough."

"They have no choice. They have to be." Jellal narrowed his gaze as they passed the wreckage on the bridge. The two cars were totaled. The front of each vehicle was smashed in, making the cars look like accordions.

Erza took one look at the scene and knew there were no survivors.

Lucy eyed the navy folder on the coffee table in front of her. She reached for it and laid it on her lap. Aquarius wasn't dubious like her father. She took her job as a lawyer seriously. Still, it wouldn't hurt to read the contents.

The legal jargon was tough to read through. Comprehending the syntax wasn't the problem. Running her company, Lucy had worked closely with her own legal team to make sure their company was always on the right side of the law. It was the sheer dryness of the text that made Lucy groan as she turned the pages.

Aquarius had drafted this herself. The prenuptial agreement outlined the assets Loke would have access to when he married Lucy. The limitations on his access were nonexistent. Like Aquarius had stated, he could have free reign of her massive inheritance. However, one line stood out.

"Regarding the assets of the deceased Layla Diamanti, bequeathed to Lucy Diamanti after her death, these shall remain in the sole possession of Lucy Diamanti. No other party may have access to these assets."

Closing the folder, Lucy slid it onto her coffee table. Nothing made any sense. Her father never mentioned anything about her mother leaving her an inheritance after she died. Not that her father had talked to her, but something like this seemed odd not to mention.

She shook her head. "Why is everything so complicated?"

Deciding today had already been full of enough frustrations, Lucy grabbed the book she had been trying to read for the past week and went to take a bath. The book had been creating a lot of buzz in the industry lately. All the reviews Lucy read were glowing. Normally, it would take her a day to devour it, but with the crazy wedding planning, she hadn't had a spare moment to sink in.

Turning off the hot water faucet, Lucy threw her hair up into a bun and stripped off her clothes. Easing into the warm water was heavenly. The scented bubbles she added almost threatened to spill over the lip of the tub. Picking up her book, Lucy escaped into its world.

The reviews for the book had been spot on. It was a romance like no other. A real, heartbreaking, beautiful, one-of-kind, fight-worthy love. The lovers bickered, laughed, lost each other, found themselves, and loved who they were apart but grew beyond their limitations together. Its author showed a side of love that Lucy rarely read about in books.

The water was cold by the time Lucy emerged. Shivering, Lucy reached for her robe and hastily pulled it around her. She hadn't even noticed the temperature change of the water. The book had pulled her in and her reality had slipped away. She had been so engrossed with the story that it wasn't until she finished the book that she realized how cold she was.

The entire time Lucy was reading, she couldn't help hearing the quiet voice in her heart whispering a name over and over again. It wasn't Loke's name, and that bothered her. She was supposed to be in love with him. But after all these months reconnecting, if she was honest with herself, she didn't feel any closer to the love she had felt for him before.

It wasn't because she believed her love life should mimic the one she had just read about. The story just made her reflect on her own heart. That was the magic of stories. They could transport you out of your own reality and when you returned, real life could make a little more sense.

Deciding to go forward with the engagement to right a wrong her father had caused wasn't right. She never should have said yes for this reason. Looking at her engagement ring, Lucy didn't feel her heart jump with the same elation she had when Loke first proposed. She felt like she was making a mistake. A mistake that would hurt someone she cared about deeply if she let things continued.

After finding out Loke was alright and thriving after what her father had done to him, Lucy was beyond happy. But in their five years apart, they had changed. Lucy was no longer the same fearful girl who he had met on the island. Her heart had once mourned their lost love, but she had moved on.

Trying to force her heart to go back to the state it was in when she had first met and fell in love with Loke was impossible. She couldn't go back and change the past like she had been trying. She still loved Loke. She always would. But she was not in love with him.

"I can't do this," Lucy whispered, taking off her engagement ring.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she placed the ring on her bedside table. She needed to talk to Loke and tell him how she felt. The painful truth that she owed him. It was time to set things right. It was going to hurt them both, but she knew this was the right decision.

She grabbed her phone and tried calling Loke, but it went straight to voicemail.

When it was time to leave a message, Lucy didn't know what to say. How do you break off an engagement? She hung up before she could say anything. She had to speak with him in person. It would be better that way, not that this was going to be easy to say. She changed into pajamas and curled up in bed.

"Tomorrow then." Lucy set her phone on her nightstand and pulled the covers up. She closed her eyes to sleep, but her heart was still restless.

It was in the late hours of the night. She should have been fast asleep, but she couldn't ignore the tugs against her heart. After making her decision about Loke, the quiet voice in her heart was now shouting at her. But it was too soon to listen to it, wasn't it? She hadn't even spoken with Loke yet.

Hesitatingly, Lucy grabbed her phone and dialed a number she knew by heart before her head could talk her out of it.

The pain wasn't the worst Natsu had experienced but that knowledge didn't ease his discomfort. He forced himself into a sitting position, despite the protests of his body against the movement. His breath came out shaky and it took a few long minutes before it evened out. The poison was out of his system but the damage it caused would take a while to heal.

When Erza and Jellal threatened Levy and Richard, his body hadn't moved the way he had wanted it to. There was hardly any strength to stand. Levy had to be the one to save herself. Natsu had no clue how she did it but he knew it had cost her. If only he hadn't been so careless and gotten in this predicament, Levy would never have had to do that.

Richard had taken her home hours ago, leaving him alone in the safe house. Levy didn't want to leave, especially with the breakthrough of information that Aries's books had brought them; but she didn't want Gajeel to start worrying either. Richard had declared Natsu was out of commission for the next few days at least. It would be best to lay low and gather more information before they made their next move.

Deciding it would be more productive of her to utilize her office to gather the information they needed, Levy let Richard take her home. The area was secured by the Organization and safe from the enemy. Those facts were the only reasons why Levy and Richard had felt comfortable enough to leave him alone. Plus, Levy had forced him to promise to stay put. Natsu had waved them off, telling them he would just sleep at the safe house. At least, that's what he had hoped to do. His mind kept going over the last 12 hours and it just made him angrier.

Natsu looked down at his bandaged body with distaste. He was in this state because he hadn't been strong enough. Dropping to the floor, Natsu started doing push-ups. His entire body exploded in pain but he ignored it. He jumped to his feet and started boxing across the safe house.

His fists flew hard and fast as he threw jabs, imagining it was the mysterious enemy he had fought earlier. Dodging a pretend attack, Natsu fought back with an uppercut followed by a roundhouse kick. He yelled as his body protested but he kept on going. Natsu knew it would hurt a lot more if he lost a second time—if he was unable to protect Lucy from the wolves hunting her.

In his mind, Loke's face quickly replaced the enemy Natsu had fought in Aries's apartment. Every punch and kick he threw, Loke was on the other end of the attack. Sweat covered his body, dripping down his face as he pushed himself further. Everything burned—his lungs, his muscles, his heart. Natsu yelled and screamed as he fought more and more until his body gave out on him.

He reached out to the coffee table next to him, attempting to catch his balance, but only ended up tumbling over it. Natsu collapsed to the floor, clutching his chest and gasping from the spasms of pain rippling through him. He grunted at the impact, the edges of his vision going black. He forced himself to remain conscious. The spasms continued as he lay on the cold tiles, breathing heavily until they slowly subsided. The burning pain dulled to a cold ache.

"Fuck," Natsu swore. He could only imagine what Richard would say when he came back and found him like this. Richard had left very clear instructions for Natsu to rest so his body could recover. Launching into pretend fights was probably not what Richard had in mind. Natsu just hoped he hadn't done any more damage. He needed his body to be in fighting form. He needed to be ready for the next attack.

His cellphone lit up, catching his attention. It was lying on the floor an arm's length away. It had fallen from the coffee table when Natsu collapsed. Stretching his arm out, he scooted it closer to him. His arm flared up with pain from the movement.

Thinking it was the Organization calling to yell at him more for breaking protocol, Natsu stopped reaching for the phone, letting the call go to his voicemail. It wasn't like they would send Erza back here any time soon. He could take the verbal berating another day.

He closed his eyes, trying to remember some meditation exercises he had learned to trick his body into believing it was healed when his phone rang again. Natsu's teeth ground together as he tried to ignore the ringing. Why didn't he put the damn thing on silent? The call stopped abruptly and he relaxed.

Now I just have to clear my mind. Don't think about all the ways I can make that damn Loke my personal punching bag. Just breathe and—

The phone rang again.

Natsu stretched his arm out, ignoring the pain as he grabbed his phone and answered the call.

"What the fuck do you want?" He yelled. Natsu was pissed off and in no mood to deal with the Organization tonight.

"Oh, sorry Natsu. I didn't mean to bother you. I guess it's late and I…"

Natsu's heart sank. It wasn't the Organization on the line. It was Lucy.

"Wait!" Natsu sat up quickly. The room spun severely and a wave of pain raced through him, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through. "Lucy, please don't hang up. I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you when I answered." His words came out in a rush, making him sound winded.

"Are you sure? I feel like I caught you at a bad time. And I just haven't talked to you in a while and it really is late so maybe—"

"Lucy, you can always call me. It's never a bad time." Natsu tried to make his voice sound normal but the pain was getting to be too much. He laid back down, setting the phone next to his head after putting it on speaker. The pain eased up and the spinning subsided.

"Thanks, Natsu," Lucy said. "So how are you? What have you been up to since the party?"

I'm emotionally and physically in hell as I try to prove that your shit-eating fiancé is actually a shit-eating Underworld wolf that's using you for a reason I haven't figured out yet.

"Just taking in the sights," Natsu lied, cringing at it. He wished he could tell Lucy what was going on, but it would cause more harm than good. The enemy could even be listening to their conversation now. Why didn't he change her phones out and create a secure line?

"You're being a tourist? That's surprising." Lucy laughed on the other end. The sound of it made him close his eyes and smile. God, how he had missed this. How he had missed her. With his eyes closed, it was almost as if she was here, lying next to him.

"Where did you go? Times Square? Rockefeller Center? The holiday markets? I didn't think you would have the patience to wade through all the tourists and—"

"I miss you, Lucy."

The words left him before he even realized he was saying them. Lucy made him feel things he didn't have words for, but he knew this feeling all too well. He missed her and it had been killing him to stay away.

The other end was silent. Had he overstepped? Natsu had grown so used to having her in his life. He didn't need Lucy to feel the same way. He just wanted her to know, without giving away anything, that he wished he was with her now.

"I miss you too, Natsu." Lucy's voice was soft. Her words were a blanket that wrapped around his heart. "Do you remember when you left three months ago?"

A pang twitched his heart. Of course he remembered. It was one of the worst days of his life. It was one of his biggest regrets. His leaving had allowed Loke a chance to swoop in and take advantage of her. Did Lucy think he was leaving again?

"I didn't want to leave you. I won't leave like that again," Natsu said, hoping she believed him. He had promised to return her scarf and he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon, especially not with the amount of danger she was in.

"I know, I remember your promise. I hope my pink scarf is keeping you warm." Lucy laughed again. "I've been thinking about the night you left." She paused as if debating whether or not to keep going. "You said when you came back, there was something you were going to tell me. Do you remember what it was?"

Oh. Natsu opened his eyes, glancing at the phone. What he wanted to tell Lucy had been dancing on his tongue during his entire mission. They were the sweetest words he had tasted. Natsu wanted to share them with Lucy the moment he saw her again. He hadn't been more sure of anything in his life. That was, until he returned and discovered the situation with Loke.

The words still danced on his tongue, but some of the sweetness had gone, replaced by sour notes that made his stomach twist into knots. Would these words be a burden to her now? If he told her what he had wanted to say, it might cause more harm than good. It was a risk, but should he take it?

"I remember," Natsu said, deciding he had lied to Lucy enough. "But it's not something I want to say to you over the phone. Will you meet me somewhere?"

Levy's warning echoed in his head. He had to stay away from Lucy in order to protect her. The enemy they were dealing with was playing a deadly game and they didn't know what their true objective was. But damn it, Natsu needed to see her.

"Anywhere." Lucy replied but became flustered by her own response. "I-I-I mean not anywhere anywhere. I just meant I would meet you."

Natsu was glad he was having this conversation over the phone. His face was beaming like an idiot.

"I'll have Richard pick you up at 7:30 pm tomorrow night," Natsu said, figuring it would be better to keep the actual location a secret in case the enemy was listening. The conversation alone might have sent up a dozen red flags to the enemy, but Natsu would take the necessary precautions to protect Lucy. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her. Ever.

"Tomorrow? Not tonight?" Lucy sounded disappointed and Natsu's heart ached.

"Sorry, Lucy. I'm a little tied up with something at the moment—" Being a fucking invalid. "—otherwise I would have already been on my way to your apartment."

Damn this body! Natsu knew he needed rest. He couldn't even find the strength to move to the couch. If he wanted to walk out of this safe house tomorrow, he needed to stop doing more damage. Patience was never Natsu's strength.

"No, no, no. Don't apologize! I was kidding." Nervous laughter filtered through the phone. "It's the middle of the night."

Natsu listened to Lucy ramble on with her apology, as he repeatedly banged the back of his skull against the floor until it gave him a headache.

I'm useless. Useless. Useless.

"I'll see you tomorrow...promise?" Lucy finished her rambling.

"It's a promise," Natsu assured. A promise he was going to keep no matter what. "Goodnight, Lucy."

"Goodnight, Natsu."

Natsu laid on the floor, staring up into the dark ceiling and smiling like a fool. He was going to see Lucy. He was going to finally tell her the words he had been holding in. The pain in his body seemed like a dull memory as he replayed their conversation in his head.

"Lucy," Natsu whispered her name before finally drifting off to sleep.

It was late when Loke returned to his apartment. He had wandered through New York, driving aimlessly. The flow of the city drifted him up and down Manhattan, maneuvering the crowded roads of impatient drivers while lost in his thoughts. Figuring out a way to speed up the wedding without unnerving Lucy was more difficult than he expected. His charisma and charm had served him well in the past, but they didn't have the same effect on Lucy anymore. He didn't know what to do.

Loke tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and took out a shot glass from the cabinet. Reaching for the bottle of bourbon above the fridge, he poured himself a stiff drink. Tipping the glass back, he gulped it down in one fluid motion. He stared at the empty glass and the full bottle on the counter for a long minute before swiping the bottle and plopping down on his couch.

It had been a bad day, might as well make it a bad night.

Alcohol had become like medicine for him. He drank to forget the ghosts in his heart or numb himself when Mistress's demands were too much for him to handle. Those nights were often. He drank for both reasons tonight.

The bourbon sloshed down his chin as he took a long dreg. He had come face-to-face with a ghost today. The ghost that had haunted him the most all these years. The alcohol wasn't working as well as he had hoped. Half the bottle was gone, but he could still see her face clearly, feel the slow thud of her heart as he held her in his arms. For god sakes, he could even smell the perfume she was wearing on his clothes.

He stripped his shirt off in a rush, tossing it away like it was on fire. He gulped down more of the bourbon to try and calm himself down, but his breathing remained uneven. Jumping to his feet, he stumbled across his living room as he paced the length of the floor.

Nothing worked. She was everywhere he looked. He closed his eyes tight, but she was a phantom in the darkness, calling out his name.

"Go away, damn it!" Loke raged, throwing the bottle. It shattered against the wall. He collapsed to his knees and wept. Hot tears ran down his cheeks like the bourbon dripping down his wall as he let the anguish and torment he bottled up pour out.

It tried to tear him apart every day, but he had been quick enough to sew up the seams. Keep everything in and numb his senses before it all became too much. How many years had it been since Loke let himself acknowledge this pain? To feel the true weight of what he had lost?

He couldn't hold it back. Not tonight. Not after his ghosts became real solid things he couldn't ignore anymore. There was no numbing himself against her touch. There was no escaping the look she had given him. She had seen him. Seen what he had become.

Loke screamed in anguish, his carefully stitched seams bursting open. His shoulders shook as he wept, choking on the sobs that wracked his body. They were great waves from the ocean of sorrow he had dammed up, and now, they were flooding him entirely.

"Why? Why? WHY?! WHY?!" He beat his hand against the floor until it bled like his tears but he didn't stop. He couldn't feel pain. He couldn't feel anything except the loss. The price he had paid.

She was safe. She was alive. Loke had made his choice. Paid his price and killed himself for it. But he had never, not for any of the breath that still warmed his body, wanted her to see him like this. See what he had become in order to save her.

Loke looked at his hands through his tear-blurred vision. One was a bloody mess but both shook in front of him. He took deep breaths, trying to get control of himself before he lost himself to the pain entirely. It wasn't time yet. There were still things he needed to do.

He wiped the tears from his face, his wounded hand smearing blood across his cheeks. Standing up took an eternity, but he managed. He closed his eyes to try and center himself again.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

A small, undeserved mercy was granted to him and he broke through the surface of his pain. He cracked his eyes open slowly. Her ghost was gone. The tremor in his limbs subsided a little. The dam was weak, but it was holding. The pain was still there, but at least he wasn't drowning.

"I should clean that up," Loke spoke softly aloud, to no one. An unconscious habit of his that reminded him he was still there. Still present. Still existing.

There was a closet right off the kitchen that he kept cleaning supplies in, though he was rarely at his apartment and the place was spotless. Slowly, he walked towards it and retrieved what he needed. He kept his body moving—kept himself focused on one task at a time.

When he returned to the living room, Loke was no longer alone. He peered into the darkened space. The amount of alcohol in his system coupled with his cry-weary eyes made it difficult to make out shapes in the darkness. It was the charged feeling in the room. Call it a sixth-sense, a buried animal instinct, or whatever, Loke could feel the room was different. Something had shifted in the space.

Before he could call out, the air in the living room shifted again. A hand gripped his face, covering his mouth and nose, blocking off his air passages.

Loke felt his feet lose purchase of the floor as he was lifted off the ground. Struggling for air, Loke flailed about in order to break the person's hold on him.

Black spots dotted his vision as the lack of air made it even harder to focus. The intruder tightened his grip before throwing Loke forward. His body collided with the wall and went straight through. Plaster, wood, and dust exploded around Loke as he landed in the middle of his bedroom floor. He gasped for air in order to cool the burning in his lungs.

The intruder stepped through the hole, staring down at Loke. It was then that Loke could finally see who had paid him an unwanted visit.

"Cael—Caelum!" Loke coughed out. It was certainly Mistress's strange servant standing in the wreckage of his bedroom. Except, as it came closer, he could tell something was off. Its head was twisted on the socket, sparks flying from its neck.

"Who did this to you?" Loke stood on shaky legs, the alcohol in his system making him sloppy.

"You did this," a woman replied coldly.

Loke snapped his head to the left where he heard her voice. She stepped out of the shadows of the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood as she approached him. His blood ran cold and his mouth went dry as he watched her slow approach.

"Mistress," he whispered. The alcohol wasn't enough to numb him against her presence. He was supposed to meet up with her after he had completed his mission. She wasn't supposed to be here. If she wanted to communicate with him, she would just send the message through Caelum, like she had always done. She would never come in person.

Why is she here? Oh fuck, why is she here?

Loke felt every inch of fear she had instilled in him over the many years in her service. A tremor started in his hands that he couldn't control. Loke balled his hands into fists in an effort to hide it.

"You did this," Mistress repeated, snaking her hand up Loke's chest and resting it on his cheek. With a handkerchief in hand, Mistress wiped the blood from Loke's face.

"I—I didn't. I would never. I—"

"Shhhhh," she placed a perfectly manicured nail against his lips. "No talking now."

Loke swallowed down any explanation. You never argued with Mistress.

"Because of you," Mistress continued, her fingers trailing up and down his cheek. "I sent my dear Caelum to get rid of the annoying obstacles in your way. I did this for you because you know how much I care about you." Her fingers moved down to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them as she spoke.

Loke tried to escape to the place in his mind when Mistress demanded these kinds of tasks from him. He would close off his mind and block everything out. It wasn't working tonight. He was too afraid to drift away. Something wasn't right. Things were different this time.

"Ahhh!" Loke cried out in pain as her nails dug into his skin. Thin red lines bled across his chest as she bent his head down and forced a kiss. Her lips crushed against his and Loke shoved his revulsion down. Mistress broke the kiss, her eyes glinting with a wildness that scared Loke. She threw him back and he fell to the floor.

"But this is how you repay me!" She yelled at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. It smeared her red lipstick, tilting her lips into a snarl. "You drunken trash! My poor Caelum was mutilated because of you."

Mistress grabbed a chunk of Loke's hair, pulling his head back to look at Caelum. Loke was forced to see how Caelum's neck twisted unnaturally, how its head was turned backward. It was a disturbing sight to see.

"Caelum..." Mistress let go of Loke as Caelum came forward. It picked Loke up by the back of his collar, lifting him off the ground without any effort. "Avoid his face."

Loke didn't know if it was hours or minutes, but his body was a vessel of pain. He was sure he had several broken ribs and suffered severe bruising, but Caelum had remained true to Mistress's command, avoiding his face. Even with its head twisted on its socket, Caelum's hits were all true. It only stopped when Mistress deemed it enough. A part of Loke wished she hadn't said a thing. He wished Caelum would keep on hitting him until he was nothingness.

"Have you learned your lesson, Loke?" Mistress asked from her seat on the bed. She had watched the beating Caleum had given him with glee.

"I have," Loke croaked out. The effort to get those two words out was enormous. His body ached from just the act of speaking. "Forgive me, Mistress."

"Come here," she demanded, curling her finger to beckon him.

With tremendous effort, Loke stood and limped to her side, kneeling at her knee. She inclined her head towards the bed and he moved to sit next to her. Mistress traced the red marks she made across his chest with her fingers, admiring her handiwork.

"I don't think you know how serious I am," Mistress purred as she leaned in and kissed his neck. Her teeth grazed against his skin, another veiled threat. Loke tried not to wince as she touched him. "I always get what I want. And I want the treasure the Heartfilia's possess." She bit his neck as she slid his shirt off.

"I'll get it for you, Mistress. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you." Loke almost whimpered the words. Mistress was the one that had made his wish come true.

In order to keep it true, he would do anything—say anything if only to appease her.

She shoved him back and climbed on top of him. Her lips kissed his chest as her hands snaked up his arms. There was no way Loke could control the tremors in his body. Mistress mistook his shaking for pleasure but Loke shook for fear. He couldn't be present anymore. Loke started to let his mind drift, to escape the horror of his reality. To feel nothing. To be nothing.

"I know you will. And I'll tell you how I know," Mistress kissed his cheek, tilting her lips to his ear. "Knowing you would be worried about a certain someone after her collapse today, I sent my Angel to look after her."

Everything stopped. Loke's tremors ceased. He crashed down back into his body and he was aware of everything so intensely. Her nails digging into his skin. Her body on top of his, pushing down on him like a weight. The stench of her perfume making him choke. Her words filling up his mind.

He heard her correctly, right? She had her. She had—

"Ari—"

Mistress bit his ear, hard. "No. No. I'm talking now," she chastised him. "I think I was pretty clear when we first made our contract, but I'll remind you of the details in case they're a little hazy. You get me what I want or..." Her fingers moved to his heart, her fingernails lining up with the bloody scratches she had made. "I'll rip Aries's fucking heart out."