Nikolai made an announcement before dinner, stating that as Ravka's king, he will eat with his people for dinner every evening, which was something his father never did. He commanded the room with his presence. Despite the insecurities that crawled beneath his skin, he maintained a sense of elegance and surety when he spoke as the king. Everyone was enamored by him, by his devotion to Ravka. They had every reason to be.

Genya informed me of my duties while we ate, saying that I needed to help the Second Army as the Sun Summoner. There was equal representation among the Grisha now. Things would be done differently than before, more camaraderie among the orders. Unification. I agreed that those things were all very important. Zoya then asked me if I wanted to help her train Grisha in the training rooms, until they found someone suitable to take Botkin's place. I told her I would consider it.

Eventually, Tolya got a few words in, explaining how Nikolai pardoned the Apparat and that he was returning to court. I was too tired to argue over his decision. He then said that several Soldat Sol would be returning with the Apparat as well and staying at the Little Palace, for my protection. I waved off the conversation, waiting for the Apparat's arrival before I tried to protest. I didn't want to think about the priest or my followers. It was all too much for my cloudy head.

The rest of dinner went by in a blur. I mostly felt dejected from the people that surrounded me, some laughing, others talking fervently about the future of Ravka. I picked at my food, feeling nauseous from the smells and lightheaded from exhaustion.

As dinner drug on, Nikolai excused himself, asking me to follow him. I said my goodnights to everyone and followed in silence. We stepped out into the night and walked along the lamplit path that led to the lake.

"I'm having your room in the Little Palace remodeled. It should be completed within the next week," Nikolai said.

I raised my eyebrows at him in a questioning manner.

"Unless you would prefer to stay in the hut?"

I shook my head. "No, no. It's just that you didn't have to do that."

"Oh, but I did," he said, smirking slightly. "The room was far too drab. Half of the ceiling had fallen out anyway, so minor adjustments were necessary."

I nodded then silence fell between us. I noticed how Nikolai let this happen more often than before. He usually would be talking about something, suggesting another move, planning another strategy, saying something clever. Now, I wasn't so sure what was going on in his head.

We reached the path that led to Baghra's hut and he stopped.

"You don't have to stay in there for the time being, if you don't feel comfortable," he said.

"Baghra wouldn't have liked me staying here. But she's dead," I said flatly. "Plus, I'm not so sure I'll be fully comfortable anywhere." I turned my head towards the hut, seeing smoke rising from the chimney.

"I had Misha light the stove for you."

My heart sank. Misha. I hadn't seen him since before the battle on the Fold.

"I didn't think he was even here. How is he?"

"Surprisingly well. Better than myself, honestly. He's been keeping busy, flitting about the place. Doing little errands…" his voice trailed off.

I rubbed the sides of my head, feeling a headache coming on.

"Alina? Are you—"

"It's nothing, I'm fine." I smiled weakly and waved my hand at him. "There's just so much I still have to do, so many people to see. It makes my head hurt."

"Welcome to life at court," he said with a sigh. His brows furrowed in concern but he didn't press further. "Well, I'll let you rest. Don't hesitate to see me if you need anything, anything at all."

I nodded. "Goodnight, Nikolai."

He bowed slightly. "Goodnight, Alina."

I watched him as he walked away and disappeared around the bend, in the direction of the Grand Palace. As soon as he was out of sight, a chill crawled up my spine, causing my body to shake. I looked around me out of habit, out of fear, expecting to see someone emerging from the shadows. But there was no one.

I drew my kefta tightly around me and made my way to the hut. The heat welcomed me as I opened the door. The warmth of the stove was just right, probably only burning on a few logs. I shut the door and latched the single lock shut.

Several burning candles sat at the bedside, illuminating the room in a heavy orange glow. I looked around me, observing what was left of Baghra's things but there wasn't much that I could tell. The once-filled shelves were empty, the walls barren. The stove was the only thing that remained of her.

I changed into fresh clothes that had been placed on my bed and crawled beneath the woolen blanket. I leaned over the candles, extinguishing all but one. Its flame cast an ominous shadow over the hut but the light comforted me. I sighed and rolled over, facing the wall.

I tried to focus on the events of the day, all the changes that had taken place in my absence, but my mind kept drawing back to him. I was too weak to push the thoughts away. As soon as my eyes closed, I saw his—two still pools of blue. All I could see were his vacant eyes staring beyond me.

My throat began to tighten as I realized he died for nothing. I was too weak to kill him myself, to wield the power of Morozova's last amplifier. He died with no greater purpose, mutilated by the very thing I protected him from so many months ago on the Shadow Fold.

Tears began to pool over my eyes, dripping onto the pillow. I let them flow freely. Memories of us playing together at Keramzin flashed across my mind. The love that I felt for him then was raw, pure. It was the only thing I was certain of in this world. But I had lost that certainty along the way. Pieces of me had been chipping away over time. Did he see that uncertainty growing and spreading within me? Had he known what I wanted to do on the Fold?

Choked sobs rose from my throat as I let the thought reverberate through my head. I tugged at the collar around my neck. It felt as if it was constricting my throat as I struggled for air. But it was no use.

"Mal," I choked through my sobs. "Mal."

I couldn't shy away from his name any longer. I feared I would lose him entirely if I did. His name was all that was left of him. Of us.

Malyen Oretsev.

Dead.

My dreams were the same. The same desperate attempt to reach Mal. The same futile struggle for air while tar filled my lungs. The same sickening agony that shook me from my sleep.

I jolted awake, my heart thumping loudly in my ears as I gasped for breath. I rolled over onto my side, half expecting to see Nikolai sleeping in the chair in the corner but I couldn't see anything. The room was pitch black. A familiar chill ran up my spine and I pulled my woolen blanket tighter around me.

I blinked through the darkness, expecting my eyes to adjust but they didn't. I tried to reach for one of the candles on the bedside table but they were gone. Something wasn't right. I slowly reached for the dagger that I hid beneath my pillow, expecting someone to lunge at me at any moment. I waited but nothing happened. Maybe I was just paranoid? But I couldn't ignore the heavy stillness of the air, the palpable silence. Feelings I knew all too well.

"That dagger won't do you any good, Alina. You know that." His calm voice cut through the silence, causing the room's atmosphere to shift. No. He isn't real. He can't be here.

I tightened my grip around the dagger and squinted my eyes into the darkness. Nothing. He had pulled all the light from the room. I tried to assess the situation. Was he really here or was he using the tether that bound us? Neither one was less frightening than the other.

I closed my eyes and listened, waiting for the Darkling to make a move. There was nothing, not even the sound of nichevo'ya clicking and whirring. Then the floorboards creaked. My stomach sank. Saints. No.

"You're not speaking to me anymore," he said matter-of-factly. His voice carried from the corner of the room, probably lounging in Nikolai's chair. "I guess that's to be expected. We didn't part on the best of terms."

It may well take me another lifetime to break you, Alina, but I will put my mind to the task. Those were his parting words. A scoff escaped my lips. I felt indignant at his calm exterior, his callous use of language.

"What makes you think I would ever have any interest in speaking to you again?" I spat.

"Variables have changed, Alina. Your guiding light is gone. There's no tracker to keep you on a path of righteousness," he said casually. The edge of his words acted like pinpricks against my heart. "Your Lantsov pup is no more. He's now a flea-bitten hound, forever haunted by the gift I gave him."

He chose his words carefully, making sure they had enough biting edge. I knew he was only trying to weaken me, to break me. But he was right. A wave of nausea rolled through me, forcing me to lean my head back against the wall.

"I have to admit, I am upset over the otkazat'sya and his untimely death. I'm not sure how many lifetimes it will take to find the third amplifier. However, I'm willing to wait for the things that I want. Maybe another skilled tracker will be born and—"

"You will never have the third amplifier," I said, feeling a quiet rage building inside me.

"Is that so? Will you make it your mission to stop me then?" he taunted.

I breathed in a sharp breath of air and illuminated the room, casting white light over the swirling darkness. The Darkling sat exactly like I imagined him, lounging casually in the armchair. His face rested in his hand, grey eyes glinting. He reminded me of a predator, silently watching its prey before an attack.

"You can't kill what is already dead." The words spilled from my mouth before I could consider their consequence. I watched as the realization slowly washed over his face. His eyes darted to my exposed wrist then back to me.

"You're lying," he said with a twinge of worry in his voice.

I shrugged, trying to act indifferent. "I encourage you to spend several lifetimes trying to prove me wrong."

"If you were telling the truth, you would be wearing the firebird's bone around your wrist. Don't play me for a fool, Alina."

"Or maybe…" I pushed myself from the wall, dangling my legs over the side of the bed. I leveled my gaze with his and said, "…maybe Mal and I did what was best. Maybe we killed the firebird and destroyed its remains, ensuring that you would never be able to wield Morozova's power."

He clenched his jaw, staring at me with unblinking eyes.

"When you marched on Keramzin and killed those innocent people, my friends, Mal and I were hunting the firebird. That's why I didn't come to you sooner."

I held my breath, expecting the Darkling to rise up in anger or summon the nichevo'ya, but he did neither one. He sat quietly, assessing my face, looking for any indication of a lie. His lips formed into a devious smirk.

"You destroyed the only chance you had of killing me, all for a childish game that only you are playing. Well done, Alina, well done." He leaned back in the chair, his posture relaxing.

I swallowed the spit that had been bubbling in my throat. The lie did not faze him. He didn't care about the amplifier, as long as he had an upper hand over me.

"What's the purpose of all of this, Aleksander?" I asked with disdain fueling my words.

He flinched at the sound of his name. "The purpose of what?"

"Of everything. Of playing cat-and-mouse, your hunger for power and destruction, your consistent attempts to rule over a land that doesn't even want you."

There was silence then he shifted in the chair. "How else would I endure this eternity, Alina? The desire to play house with otkazat'sya eventually fades, as I'm sure you've already discovered. Pretending to be something you are not grows tiresome. Again, a feeling I'm sure you're familiar with. There's nothing else left to do in this world but rule. You will learn that in time, if you haven't begun to feel it already." He didn't bother masking the sadness in his voice.

I turned away from his watchful gaze as my vision began to blur. Then I stifled the light in my hand and let the darkness wash over us. I tried to push back the tears but they flowed more freely than before. Whether he was fooling me or not, I couldn't ignore the truthfulness of his words or the sorrow of a boy who once wanted the same things that I did, who once felt as I did.

"My worst fear is to become you," I whispered into the dark.

He remained silent. I felt the darkness stir, the atmosphere shift from his movements. The floorboards creaked then I felt the warmth of his lips on my forehead. His touch made my body go rigid. The darkness surged forward within me, along with the overwhelming feeling of hunger that I thought I had forgotten.

"Saints can't become monsters, Alina," he whispered.

The atmosphere shifted again and moonlight began to spill from the partially open curtains. I cautiously laid back down and rolled onto my back with my hand resting on my forehead. My other hand still gripped the dagger. I wasn't sure if he had physically been there or not. Regardless, I was shaken by his presence, his words.

Saints can't become monsters, Alina.

Can monsters become saints?

Author's Note: Finally, the Darkling makes his appearance! I hope you guys enjoyed it and look forward to more. I know I enjoyed writing this chapter. Let me know what you think of the story so far! Reviews are always welcome!