Temper me in fire

by voldobaby

AU: The world of Moroi and Dhampirs is very different, political turmoil has opened up a vacuum in which illegal and immoral actions can transpire, such as slavery of Dhampirs. Rosemarie Hathaway is born into slavery in Arizona. Her life revolves around tending to her chores and making herself inconspicuous. But that all changes when Mr.Dashkov and his Guardians arrive

59. Chapter 59

DPOV

It's barely snowing now. From Rose's window, I can see the edge of the lake and ice patches formed on the water. The compacted white ground should make it easy to run.

Rose sighs in her sleep, a small content sound, and her fingers twitch on the pillow.

It hasn't ceased taking me by surprise just how beautiful she is. Those doe eyes, her laughter – so carefree and the soft smugness to her expression before she makes a joke. I find it hard to believe, but not hard to remember, that this bright star of a woman was once a shadow of herself. That she kept all of herself in and it was slowly suffocating her. How long would it have been before she collapsed inside herself, the suffocation finally smothering her essence, a dying star.

I should stop thinking about this – all it does is drag me down somewhere with anger crackling like static and no way to dispel it. Not properly.

She should have been given the world, not denied it but every day she's stronger, more confident and I know when she's ready to take on the world it will tremble before her. I see a glimpse of it when we train, when the concentration is so deeply set and intertwines with her determination – it's becoming instinct for her. An instinct not engraved by repetition but ingrained into her nature because of the vitality of it, the gift of your body weaponizing. Not to hurt but to protect. I know because it was the same for me.

Knowing how to protect yourself is a priceless gift when all you've known is violence. When it's a language lashed at you but you can't communicate back, all it births is frustration and self-destruction. But she's learning and she's becoming a force, a steadily building one and I couldn't be more proud of her.

We'd gone through more blocks earlier, after circuits and conditioning. Although we'd hit a bump when it came to sparring seriously.

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't throw a punch at her as I would Spiridon or another novice. I know it wasn't fair, I know it was biased – she'd snapped as much as at me before storming off to shower.

But I couldn't do it.

I'd explained as best I could after she'd calmed a little that if she couldn't deflect me in time and I hit her, I wouldn't be able to forget it.

She'd asked me quietly if it was because I thought she was weak and it had pained my heart. I'd replied I was the one that was weak in this situation, not her and I could live with it.

I could not hit her.

We'd been on the precipice of arguing. She insisted it wasn't the same because it was training and it had no intent other than teaching, growing even more frustrated when I told her I knew that. But it didn't change anything. Then she asked me if she'd prefer Spiridon hit her and I had to focus on my breathing before I could respond.

Finally, she accepted I wasn't going to move on it. I would go through everything else but engaged combat would be taught by Spiridon.

"For now." She said, that flame flickering in the depths of her eyes. "When I'm good enough you won't have a choice."

Blood immediately rushed through me, hot and craving.

"Is that a threat or a warning?" I asked, padding toward her.

"A threat." She grinned and I kissed her.

The thrill I feel when she makes it clear what she wants, pulling at my clothes and pushing me down to her bed, is indescribable. An honour, a privilege. This woman who deserved the world's riches, whose smile was one of them, was choosing me.

And I wasn't worthy of it.

I have enough self-awareness not to be self-deprecating for the sake of it, to think being critical of myself is somehow humbling and is a modest step toward being worthy. I was not worthy because when I reflect on my life, my choices, my words, my actions, and the things I'd done it all summarizes that I fall short

But she's choosing me and it makes me feel that one day I'll have done enough good to tip the scale.

She'd fallen asleep with a small smile playing on her lips, her words becoming a sleepy mumble against my shoulder before her breathing shallowed. I'd lain there for a while basking in the moment because I was too conscious of this time, pocketed away from the world, running out.

They are coming back tonight and we have to fall back into that godforsaken lie. Before we'd gone to the market it has been difficult enough not to reach for her, smile at her, stare at her or blurt any errand thought flitting across my mind. For the first time in years I couldn't stay in control. I didn't want to be...but I have to be. To keep this I have to be.

But how much more of this could I take? How much could she take? I have just under a year left in this contract and the implications of it.

She deserves better.

After everything we've said and done, having her across the hall and not being able to go to her is a better torture than not being close to her at all.

I'd swept a tendril of hair off her cheek and thoughts of not being close to her took me down the path of when she was nearly taken from me. Taken by a man that would be in this house in the next few days.

I look over to Rose again and drink her in, taking comfort in her slow even breaths. She looks so peaceful.

I used to have reservations about killing because of our code, our numbers, but if they dared suggest handing her over again, well, I had no such reservations any more.

They call him the Serpent, Zmey. He's not the usual opponents we've encountered, other royal Moroi's biting at Victor's heels for a shred of power, trying to find reasons to claw themselves higher into importance, or trying to lie their way out if indiscretions we were leveraging above their heads.

He wasn't anything we were familiar with, unlike anything we'd trained for so impossible to predict. We had the smallest piece of common ground, Moroi learning to use their magic, but even that was rocky. He's a cult leader, a fanatic with the goal of a militant state, and a strong dislike for the government at large. He wanted to dismantle the fragile system we had in place. A large faction already lambasted Victor's methods as too progressive. The very fact he opened his home to his Guardian's instead of giving us quarters in the basement was too much for some.

The second biggest, maybe first, threat to our world. If Zmey destabilized our fragile system we'd be wide open for Nathan or whoever was leading the Strigoi forces.

Strigoi forces. Armies of the undead. I still can't believe it's real, mobile nests working together and not tearing each other apart. It's so unbelievable they were failing to take it seriously. The Guard didn't believe there was enough evidence to suggest it, only that their numbers were increasing in reaction to ours decreasing.

The entire Zeklos family was slaughtered but yet there wasn't enough evidence.

They'd been celebrating an anniversary. Ivan and Petra had been there with their daughter. She was only two years old.

I remember that Moroi looking me in the face and asking if I thought it would be different if I was there that night. If it haunted me.

It does.

Ivan had asked me numerous times to be his Guardian and I'd declined. I'd gone to the red zones, then to Victor and I'd told myself Ivan would be well protected. Victor was going to change things.

I thought we would be changing things.

But Ivan's gone, his entire family is gone and the people he trusted to protect them couldn't. The Guard got there far too late but somehow The Circle had been first to respond. The man who viewed our struggle to hold things together with contempt – it was his people that got there and gave Ivan back some dignity in death.

The man that had tried to take Rose had done more for my friend than I could have.

"Dimitri?" Her voice is soft with sleep, her hand searching the space beside her.

I drop the blind back into place. "I'm here, moya lyubov'."

She leans up, bleary eyes searching and the beauty of her washes over me again.

She finds me. "You haven't slept."

"I've been thinking." I say quietly. She sits up, holding the covers to her chest, hair spilling down her back. "Go back to sleep, it's still early."

"Tell me." She says.

It feels self-indulgent. Things tumbling over in my head that are not hers to be burdened by, that I don't want her to worry about either.

She holds a hand out to me. "The beds cold without you."

I laugh gently, not wanting disrupting the late hush of the room. My 'weird Russian blood' doesn't register the temperature apparently. I climb back into bed and curl my arms around her, kissing her forehead as her fingers press into my back.

My home.

"Tell me." She whispers again.

I focus on the feel of her. "I was thinking about my friend Ivan. He was a member of the twelfth family that was lost."

"In a Strigoi attack?" She murmurs.

"Yes." Her fingers press harder. "I was thinking of all the times he asked me to be his near Guard. Our final year, our graduation, and the day it was official I was leaving for my rotation in the red zones. I'd told him that I had to go there to prove to myself I wasn't just good in theory but the best in the worst situations. Then...then I still turned him down to work for Victor instead. The last time I spoke to him he was inviting me to that party. Ivan loved parties and even in school I turned down more than half the things he asked me to come to but that didn't stop him from asking. He was a genuine friend and I don't think I ever told him that."

"He wouldn't have kept inviting you to things if he didn't see you as a friend."

"I could have been a better one." She presses her lips to my skin. I flex my hold, assuring myself. "I was thinking of Ivan because I was thinking of Zmey and him coming here."

She goes still and then tilts her head back to look at me. We hadn't discussed it much, both in a silent agreement to ignore the world and its complications for as long as the storm kept it away.

"Why?"

"Because The Circle got to Ivan's family before the Guard did. They cleaned and dressed their bodies. They didn't just leave them to be found massacred, the last way anyone would remember them. They gave them some dignity in death." I meet those eyes. "I...dislike and distrust Zmey. He tried to take you, he's threatening what we're trying to hold together but what he did, or instructed they do, for the Zeklos. I'm grateful to it."

She searches my face and it's impossible to know what she's thinking. Her eyes are so expressive and shadows of emotions surge within them but still gone too quickly to discern. She's so good at hiding what she feels.

Guardian's spend years perfecting that.

She opens her mouth and her words catch before she says, "You are a good friend to Ivan. Those men hurt you too, they're part of the reason you almost died, and yet...you find a way to appreciate them because of what they did."

"I appreciate that one act. It doesn't change or alter what they've done since." I trace her bottom lip with my thumb. "You'll be safe at the Dragomir house."

Disappointment touches her face. "Not the school?"

"No. We decided it wouldn't be as secure with the extra activity being taken for students travelling."

"When did we decide this?"

"A few hours ago. Spiridon is on patrol and filled me in on what they'd already discussed."

"Will Lissa and Natalie be there?"

"Lissa will be, her last exam is tomorrow. Andre will be there also."

"And then we'll all leave for the Lodge?"

"Yes."

She looks thoughtful for a moment and then looks at me with an intensity that makes my stomach flip.

"What about you? All of you here. How will I know that you're all safe?"

I breathe around the feeling, once foreign but making it's self at home, of being on the end of such concern. "He is coming with one man-"

"That almost killed you."

"- and we will be taking extra precautions." I assure her. "Ben is setting up a direct link to alert the academy's Guardians should it get out of our control, for whatever reason." She doesn't look appeased and I suppress the urge to smile, it would only make her angry. "As soon as it's over I will come and get you."

She nods and exhales, relaxing back into my shoulder.

A few moments pass before she says, "Do you think...we'll get time alone again soon? Maybe not here but at the Lodge? When everyone has other things to do."

My hold tightens. "Yes, we'll find time."

She kisses my neck and I drawback so I can kiss her properly, slowly, until she's pulling at my waist and I cover her instead of the blanket. She murmurs my name as I kiss her throat and I am both immersed by what we have and staggered by it.

The stress dissipates out of my body and our kisses turn lazier. I shift so my weight can press into the mattress as her hand strokes the back of my head, encouraging fatigue to take over.

I sigh when she kneads that place at the base of my skull, turning under my arm so we're lying nose to nose.

"Go to sleep." She whispers.

I want to tell her I love her, might try to, but I'm already halfway to peaceful dreaming where she's waiting anyway.

---

"I hate all of this."

I inhale deeply through my nose before replying to the same thing he's been repeating for over a day. "I know."

"I mean, I fucking hate it."

"I know."

"I know you know, care to actually provide more of a thought or your own opinion?" Spiridon says, slate eyes leaving the drive to glare at me.

I'd provided my opinion, several times. He just wanted to continually whine about things now in motion that could not be changed.

"I don't like it either." I say.

"Christ, don't strain yourself." He replies and I smirk. "What?"

I watch Victor and Ben listening intently to the handler in the drive. The truck containing the Psi hounds rocks gently as the beasts inside get restless.

A shudder goes through Spiridon. "Perhaps if you were out there, listening to the handlers instructions and maybe introduced yourself to the animal then -"

"Shut up." He snaps and I chuckle. "Why don't you go out and pet it?"

I turn to him. "But who would be here to hold your hand?"

He curses at me and stalks off to the kitchen. My grin follows him and then slowly dies, eyes lifting to the landing.

Victor had announced yesterday that as an extra precaution Psi Hounds from the academy were being loaned to us. We'd agreed with Zmey on the manpower but, as Ben pointed out, other security measures were freely open. The hounds had not been his idea – he'd been focused entirely on strengthening the perimeter to mortal bodies. They'd arrived grim-faced, Spiridon pale, and that safe and warm bubble Rose and I had been enveloped in shattered immediately.

Victor left it to Ben to explain, which he did, watching Rose apologetically as her expression slowly dropped.

Hounds had been used in Arizona, to keep the slaves corralled and deter any thought of escape. And now they were being brought here…

We hadn't talked about it before, we hadn't talked about a lot of her life and now I wonder if we should have.

My fear is pushing her on things she's not ready to face, to relive things she's escaped and especially when she's been gaining so much. She's been enjoying her life. But then I worry she faces these things when she's alone, that it pulls her apart and she suffers it silently. That she still believes expressing her pain is a burden.

The image of finding her in the shower flashes through my mind. Her head bowed, shoulders rounded and fingers biting in her arms as if she was trying to hold herself together. I'd only left her for a few minutes.

I stride toward the stairs with a final glance at the drive and then at Spiridon guarding the back door, probably ensuring it's locked. I knock lightly and step in to find Rose sitting on her bed, bag beside her, and toying with her ring.

Ben had noticed it and my stomach had dropped but she'd smiled at him, told him without fault she had gotten it at the mall to match her bracelet.

Her chocolate eyes are wary. "Are they...out?"

"They're about to be. Victors assuming the Alpha command now."

A shudder runs through her and she squeezes her hands together.

I should have killed them all.

"Spiridon's manning the backdoor. I think he's checked the locks three times." Her eyes dart from me to the window and I cross the room to sit in front of it. If I need to distract her from this. "They used to have them at 's too and on a dare, I think, Spiridon stepped inside the territory they guarded around the school. They chased him the whole way back to the quad."

"Was it you who dared him?" She asks after a moment.

"I wasn't that sadistic." I smile, keeping up the facade of calm. "But I did enjoy the few days of silence from him that followed."

She tries to smile, fails.

"What are your plans with Lissa...and Adrian?"

Rhea had called early yesterday to inform Victor that Adrian had followed Andre home. Again.

"Um, I think Lissa wants to start looking to job choices for me and what qualifications each one would need." Her eyes leave mine and move to the door. "Adrian will probably lounge around making funny comments."

The slight shift in her voice and dropping my gaze leaves me uneasy. I have no reason to be. It's my biased working against me and the remnants of the argument we'd had.

"It sounds like your in for a productive day then."

Those brown eyes snap back to mine and they're sharp. "Stop that. Stop trying to make me feel better. As if I'm doing anything important while you're all going to be here with that man who almost killed you and Spiridon."

"No, he didn't" Her eyes blaze and I rush on. "I almost got myself killed because I made mistakes... and I'm sorry I put you through that but let's not give Zmey credit he doesn't deserve. Spiridon held them off so Ben and Victor could get far enough away and then he got out. We have allies close by, you do not have to worry about us today." She doesn't look comforted. "And figuring out what paths you want to consider in life and planning your future is important."

She rolls her eyes. "No, it's not."

"Yes, it is." I say softly and as she glares at me. "But we can agree to disagree."

Silence suspends between us and even though she's mere feet from me I miss her. It's irrational but it's real.

These past few days we have moved in parallel to each other, never meeting, keeping up our lie. I've spoken without saying what I want to say. When correcting her movements during our training sessions I have to double down on my instincts. My touch can't linger. My gaze can't hold hers. And when Spiridon takes over for combat I retreat to the kitchen to spectate, my reactions from a sharp intake of breath or shifting in response to their sparring would give me away.

Especially to Spiridon who for months had spent at least eleven hours out of the day with me, learning to read me as I had him. Galina had not only made us train together to diffuse the pent-up aggression but to show us how we could be allies, two sides of the same coin, even if we would never agree or view things the same way. Back to back, we had an understanding. Plus when she made us room-mates it was too exhausting to stay constantly on guard and hostile. No matter how hard we tried.

"How -" My attempt at changing the topic and keeping her distracted is interrupted by a loud, keening howl from behind me.

I watch in horror as her face pales and she unconsciously makes herself smaller

In one smooth motion I slide from the bench to crouch before her. My hands close over hers.

"Roza." She's rigid, wide eyes trained on the window. I repeat her name and then say more firmly. "Rose."

Her eyes flick to mine. I hate the fear there, the fire eclipsed. I don't tell her she's safe as it won't resonate against her instincts. Instead, I try and anchor her to what she can do, to put back some faith in herself so she can harness enough control over her fear.

"You're reaction time keeps improving. You're faster than Spiridon was anticipating and one of your strengths is in how you feint. He tends to shift onto his right foot before he goes on the offensive." I see her latching onto the words. "Use your stamina to wear him out or lure him into a false sense of security, and do not let him goad you."

A flicker in the void and she says, "I blocked three of his hits today."

I smile. "I know. I was watching."

The tension eases from her shoulders and I lift her knuckles to my lips.

"Thank you." She murmurs.

"For reminding you of a fraction of what you're capable of? My pleasure."

She smiles faintly and turns her hand over in mine, fingers stroking my wrist.

A rapid thudding sounds and when Spiridon appears on the landing I'm standing by the window.

"I swear I saw one from the door. He said we wouldn't see or hear them, what a load of shit." I glance at Rose who's expression has warmed at the appearance of Spiridon's ruffled demeanour. He paces a short route in front of the door. "I hate this."

"You're afraid?" Rose asks gently as if she can't quite believe it.

Spiridon stops in his tracks. "I'm not fucking stupid. I don't know what you're smiling at." Rose laughs, a burst of nervous energy and she glances at me. "Just because he doesn't have enough muscles in his face to react to anything doesn't mean shit either. Anyone with half a brain would be afraid."

"You probably can't tell due to lack of said muscle but that hurt."

Spiridon glares at me and I suppress my smile. "I don't know why you're suddenly trying to take up comedy but knock it off. Today is not the day."

There's a passing of silence for respect to his request before I turn to Rose. "A hug might make him feel better."

Rose laughs and he flips me off.

"Fuck you, Belikov." He storms out of sight in the direction of his room.

"That mademe feel better." Roza says, toying with her ring again. "Can we go, now?"

I nod.

Downstairs Victor and Ben sit on the sofas. Victor holding his espresso and Ben a tablet. They're in the middle of a conversation.

"...fascinating creatures. So responsive, so disciplined." Victor is saying, a small black device in his other hand.

Ben hums. "I would like to have seen the first Moroi who thought to tame them and how well that went."

Victor chuckles and catches sight of us on the stairs. "Coast is clear. Someone should tell, Spiridon."

"He had to use the bathroom." Rose says flatly moving toward the closet for her coat.

Victor laughs again as Ben watches us before going back to his device.

"I'm escorting Rose to the Dragomir's now." I tell them.

Victor frowns, "You aren't expected for over an hour."

"Lissa knows I'm coming." Rose answer before I can, coming back to my side and pulling on her coat. She lifts her chin. "I don't want to be here."

Sympathy crosses Ben's face.

"Very well." Victor says bluntly. "We'll contact you after the meeting. Rhea's aware you may be staying overnight. Say hello to Valissa from me and Adrian. I'm sure he's looking forward to seeing you."

My teeth grind together and Ben's face sours. Ever since Victor voiced the idea of Rose using Adrian's fondness for her for his gain things have been...off. He would use her when she's supposed to be our care, no longer an accessory of any kind. And my personal feelings aside the friendships she has mean so much to her, they shouldn't be tampered with.

"He is." Rose replies and without breaking Victor's eye she adds, "I'm the only friend who doesn't lie to him."

We all stare at her. Victor in quiet surprise, Ben with a shadow of smile and me in cresting pride.

"Shall we?"

She nods and breezes past me to put in the key code. I come up behind her and despite all her strength, her fingers have a tremor. The door beeps and I lean past her to pull it open.

"I am with you." I murmur into her ear.

She inhales deeply, nodding again, and with me at her back she walks out with her head held high.

In sure quick steps we reach the car. Inside she lets go of the bravado to take more deep breaths as I start the engine. I reach across and she takes my hand in both of hers, eyes scanning the woods. I throw the car into reverse and get her the hell away from here.

With every inch of the road we eat up she relaxes, head falling back and her grip lessening on my hand.

"I'm proud of you." I say.

She sighs. "I walked outside. That's it."

"Rose, do not downplay it. You stood up to him, a royal Moroi, and then you walked out where the beasts that used to keep you in that hell were close by. Do not act like it didn't cost you anything."

I hadn't intended to sound sharp but my voice is like chipped ice.

She makes an impatient noise and I hold her hand tighter, afraid for a moment she's going to pull away from me. A few moments pass before she speaks.

"It's nothing and it's really humiliating that you make out like it's a big thing."

I look away from the road to find her staring down at our hands, her expression hurt and angry.

I pull into the left lane choosing to take the scenic route to the Dragomir's. When we get a little close to town and the traffic is busier ahead. I drift onto the roadside at the outskirts of town.

I turn to her but she refuses to look at me. "Roza, it is a big thing. No – don't do that. It is. What makes you think it isn't?"

She looks at me then, the flames tumbling in her eyes. "It's supposed to be a big deal that I was cheeky to Victor and left the house with those things in the woods that I know won't hurt me now. It's supposed to be something you're proud of me for that? Do you know how small that makes me feel? All that shit happened in Estonia where I had to drive us to that motel, I had to put that thing in your arm because Spiridon made me, I made sure you were still breathing but we get home finally and it's her that's waiting and gets the thanks for the fucking plane. She stayed there for a month." She drags a ragged breath. "And now...now I get to go hide at Lissa's house when the whole thing might happen again."

I take it in, giving her a few moments to settle. Now the words are free and dissipating some of her frustration she looks at me almost sheepishly.

"We've never talked about Estonia properly, have we?" She looks away and I squeeze her hand, coaxing her back. "I have been ashamed of it and I could tell it wasn't something you wanted to re-visit but you have to know, that I know, you were the one that saved us. You fought for us in the parking lot, against hard-hitting men, not knowing if they had a line they wouldn't cross. Rose, without you, there would be no need for the plane." She watches me carefully and I swallow. "I know you're angry with me for what you went through, whether you want to be or not, and I am more sorry than I can say. Looking back all I can say is it felt like I had no choice. I was needed where I was needed because of what I am. As for Zmey...he tried to take you because he assumes you would be a way to apply pressure but because of my reaction, he will know you mean so much more. I cannot have you close when he's there. I won't be able to focus. I need to keep my promise to your mother and I need to do my job." I clench my jaw and push out the words. "And if you were there and he dared tried to negotiate to take you I will not be able to do that. We're removing you because you should never have been present at these meetings, you should never have been considered a variable to him. And we do, desperately, need to find some common ground if we're going to use his group to move against the Strigoi."

Her face has softened and the fire's retreated. "I don't blame you for Estonia. I was angry because I thought you were going to die. Just...die in front of me and the last thing you'd told me to do was leave you. I was angry because I couldn't even be relieved that you were alive and finally getting help because she was there. In the first place I'd ever started to feel safe, she was there, and I hate her. I hate her so much. And she was the one taking care of you and it meant I couldn't even get close to you. I...I loved you even then. I wasn't sure of it, didn't understand it and it wasn't as…strong as it is now but I loved you. And I didn't want to lose you but it felt like I was losing you to her. I'm mad that Victor could have saved you and he chose not because he thinks you let him down when everything you did was for him. I'm mad that you've said there wasn't a choice." She leans forward, pulling her hand free so they can both hold my face and I start at the movement. "I can't stand thinking that I might lose you because you don't think there are other choices. Like putting yourself first."

"You don't get that luxury in this line of work." I say gently. "But I know the vows I made you and I swear to you I won't make those mistakes again. I won't put you through that."

"You won't put yourself through that."

After a moment I nod and she relaxes, leaning forward and our foreheads rest against each other.

"The man Zmey's bringing will be Tanner, won't it?" She asks quietly.

"Yes."

"Are you...How do you feel about that?"

"I can handle it. I'll do what I have to." I lean back so I can tell her. "The hardest fears to face are the ones we're born into. The hardest thing for me to do is look my father in the eye. And I know he cannot hurt me, I know he does not have control and I know if I needed to I could incapacitate him...kill him even but none of those things change the old scars that ache when he's in front of me. So when I tell you Rose that what you did today was brave and I am proud of you, I mean it."

"It's not like I had to face her...or him." She says quietly.

"No, but it represented them all the same. The hounds and standing up to a Royal."

We look at each other and the seconds pass until she says. "It was so hard."

I lift her knuckles to my lips. "I'm proud of you. Every day I'm proud of you."

The wall she'd retreated behind to protect herself starts to come down and I pull her to me. How have I gone hours without kissing her, how have I had the restraint? She kisses me back and only when I feel her fingers creeping toward my hair tie do I pull away.

She draws our clasped hands into her lap. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me."

"Not just for that but for telling me what's hard for you."

We turn onto the road that leads straight back out of town and in a few miles we'll meet the back road the Dragomir's. It's an emergency path so hopefully there aren't security measures in place I don't know about.

My fingertips trace circles on her thigh and around us the forest walls up around the car. I slow down, watching for the turn that could easily be missed.

She shifts in her seat. "I'm sorry I got mad at you."

"Don't be. I'd get mad about it too and I probably should have explained it better at the time."

"But it's hard to admit?" She asks quietly.

"Yes. Especially to myself."

The narrow break in the trees opens on the right and in one sharp turn we plunge into the forest. Branch scrape along the windows and her grips tightens but after a mile or so the road widens. The hungry fingers of the forest falling away.

"Can we stop?" She says suddenly. "Is it safe to?"

I glance at her. "We should be inside their boundaries. What's wrong?"

"Please."

I ease the speed and bring us to a stop, cutting the lights so the darkness falls around us. The only light comes from the dashboard as the radar continues to scan the woods.

"What is it?" I ask but it's unnecessary as she unclips her belt and climbs across the centre console. In her haste her foot gets caught and with a short laugh I pull her into my lap. "Very graceful."

"Shut up." She grumbles but she's smiling, winding her arms around my neck. Something in me sighs in at the relief of her weight, her smell, having her close. "I – It just hit me that we haven't been alone in days and now you're going to this meeting, and who knows what will happen." My fingers trace her cheek, smoothing her hair behind her ear. She turns her face to my touch and kisses my wrist. "I've missed you."

More weight off my shoulders. "I've missed you too."

She looks up at me from under her lashes and it's instinct, a sharp pull that makes my fingers curl behind her head and pull. If we only have a few stolen minutes every second needed to count. She meets me eagerly, nothing tender or soft, just wanting to mirror my own. It had been strange sleeping without out her these past few nights, stranger to think there have been so many without her.

She shifts impatiently and my hands roam over her thighs but she squirms again and it sends my blood crashing through me.

"Uncomfortable?" I exhale, tilting her chin so I can gain access to her neck.

"Yes."

My lips graze the column of her throat. "Should I stop?"

"No."

I claim her mouth, tongue pushing past those lips to slide against hers.

There's a moment before engaging in a fight where I'm aware of every sense, every nerve, and everything dials in. There's a spark of anticipation that runs like a live wire through my being, ready to light everything into action, a fuse ready to detonate. It's thrilling. In that brief moment, I feel truly alive.

That's how she can make me feel.

And I want her. I want her so badly. I grip her ass and pull her tighter to me. She makes that noise low in her throat and I rock up into her, desperately seeking.

Those days alone I'd been determined to find out what she liked, what she would think about when she craved this, but I know we were just scratching the surface. Hearing, feeling, and tasting those things had ruined me forever. Nothing could ever substitute it.

She moves against me just as impatiently and my body blazes with memories.

Her mouth breaks away and I groan in protest. Her cheeks are tinted pink, breathing heavy and I try to pull her back but she says against my lips, "Can we?"

My grip tightens as the fuse burns down to the keg. "Here?"

Her fingers fasten into my shirt. "Yes."

Immediately I lift her, smirking at her noise of surprise, and reposition us so her back is to my chest, ass fitting perfectly in my lap and making access a lot easier.

God, if I could bend her forward like this...

She reaches back to cup my neck as my hands run up her stomach to cup her breasts and she retaliates by rotating her hips, hard.

My blood roars and I nip her lip before pushing my tongue past it, devouring the low moan it finds. I tug her sweater out of her skirt so my hands can slip under it. When I caress the pillowy skin she grinds down and I have to resist ripping the damn material off. Her lips break from mine as she pushes back on her shoulders to lift her hips.

I watch, captivated, as she reaches under her skirt and pulls down her tights, along with her underwear, while her soft breath fans my neck. The forest could be on fire around us and I wouldn't notice. She manoeuvrers them over her knees before her tongue swipes against my skin.

I detonate.

One hand emerges from under sweater to pull her hips back down into my lap, the force of it making us both groan. I press her into me as I push up. I move my knees between hers so I can spread them apart and the hand roams into her inner thigh.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you." I say against her cheek, electricity a building agent in my blood. "It's been so much harder this time. Not reaching for you, not saying what I want...trying to control my thoughts."

"You don't have to do that now." She says breathlessly.

She slips a hand back between us so she can stroke me and I suck air in through my teeth.

"No, we don't." My fingers drift up and when I reach that slick heat she gasps. "I don't have to remember how you feel here, how responsive you are, how much I love it." Her head falls into the crook of my shoulder as I stroke along the wet seam and I say into her ear. "I've been thinking about how I want you naked and spread out for me."

She moans and fastens her lips to my neck. Need rockets through me so intensely I push my fingers into her as my cock strains through my trousers, desperate under her palm that presses back. There's a free-falling of grinding and pulling at each other until I can't stand it any longer. I am beyond logic, rationale, or reason as I manage to undo my belt, working her with one hand as I wrestle myself free. Sensing what I'm doing she arches up like before and pulls her skirt up on her hips.

Fuck, what would I give to see how she looks like this, to have the entire view.

"Dimitri, please." She whines into my ear

I wrap my arm around her waist to guide her down and she gropes for the handle above the door. I groan as my head slides against the hot core of her and I have to take a steadying breath.

"There are so many ways in which I want you." I admit before bearing her hips down.

That primal instinct in me strains for her, aches to be unleashed, needs to be buried so deep inside her I can barely breathe. I slide into her with a long groan that she echoes.

I'm so fucking ruined for her and I love it.

Seconds suspend in which gives us time to adjust but then it gives way to the thundering of craving. I wrap an arm around her hips as I drive mine up and hold her throat with the other. I need to watch her and see how the pleasure move across her face, everything I'm feeling mirrored in the flush of her skin and parting of her lips. When she moans my name I become half-wild. I pound into her and the hand collaring her throat drops back her breasts.

She feels so good. Memory can't accurately recall how good this is.

She claws at me as breathy moans drop from her lips between shallow pants. My fingers dip between her thighs again out of pure greed. She cries out and her hand slaps and slips against the fogged window.

"Oh god, yes."

That cardinal creature she provokes in me rears in delight. "I know."

Her muscles tighten around me and I thrust up harder, the pressure building as the electricity crackles in my blood. My fingers swirl over her that little bud and she throws her head back on my shoulder as she whines and writhes against me. I know she's close, it's reaching out to take her, and if I had way my way, if we had the time, I'd slow down to tease it out – see how far her patience will let me take it before she demands.

But we don't have time.

"Dimitri." She pants. My hand drags up to take her jaw and angle it toward me so I can claim that beautiful mouth, taste her pleas as my fingers and hips work in tandem. She breaks away, crying out as she comes hard around me, her body seizing up and nails embedding into my skin. My cuss is lost under it as she pulses and drags me through her orgasm toward my own.

The electricity intensifies and turns my blood molten.

"Fuck, Roza."

Release rips through me. Pleasure so powerful my arms lock around her as my hips buck, rendering me to the oblivion of it.

Slowly I settle back into my mind, my nose pressed into her hair as tremors pass through my bones and her legs tremble. Idly she strokes the back of my head as our breathing matches the same ragged pattern. I loosen my hold worried I'm crushing her.

I kiss her temple and it coaxes a pleased hum. My lips ghost over her cheek and she tilts hers up to meet them. This is one of those staggering things – we could share something so intense and have it followed by such tenderness. My hold flexes and her fingers make soothing circles, so much said in the silence.

Again, if I had my way we'd stay here for a while, leaning into each other, kissing softly but I can feel the sheen of sweat on my neck as the chill in the air tickles across it. I move my legs closer together and rub a hand over her thigh.

"No matter what happens today, I'll come for you later."

"Victor said I might have to stay." She says quietly.

My voice is low but the words are firm "If you want to come back tonight I will come and get you."

Those doe eyes search my face and my fingers brush across her cheek.

"Come and get me." She whispers and presses her lips to mine.

Getting ourselves into this position was much easier than getting ourselves out of it. It's easier for me to get back into my pants but she has to wiggle around to get her tights back on. Her foot hits the horn and causes us both to laugh at her shriek of surprise.

The rest of the journey to the Dragomir's is spent exchanging conspirational smiles.

The tree's finally fall away on either side and the grand household fills the horizon. The tires roll from snow-crusted earth onto the hard stone. Roza leans forward to take it in as we round the west side into the front-drive. The Dragomir's home is more elaborate than Victor's but it possesses an inviting warmth. Sunkissed stone instead of glass, most of the windows lit up and emitting soft golden light into the night.

A Guardian strides toward us from the front lane we'd been expected at. He's talking into the radio of his jacket as his eyes flick from the licence plate to the window.

I give Rose's hand one final squeeze but when I try to pull away her fingers tighten.

"I-" She starts but words desert her as her eyes shine with urgency.

"I'm coming back for you. A few hours – any more than four and I'll get a message to you."

She nods but her expression doesn't change. I glance at the approaching Guardian and lean in quickly to kiss her. "I love you."

"I love you too." She exhales.

The Guardian taps the window and she drops my hand. I open the door and get out with my palms up and rhyme off the security phrase for the day. On the other side, Rose gets out with her coat folded over her arm.

"You were supposed to use the east entrance." The Guardian accuses.

"The roads were busy."

The large front door opens and Rhea stands in the entrance smiling. "Come in before you catch your death!"

Roza moves toward her and takes the porch steps two at a time. I suppress a smile at Rhea's maternal tone and fussing, how she immediately draws an arm around her shoulders. Rose looks back and meets my eye just before the door closes.

"When should we expect you back and which drive will you be taking?"

I turn to the Guardian and his pissy tone.

I don't recognize him, an extra brought over to bulk up security considering today's plan. Victor had told them we were meeting an important guest, implying subtly enough the danger there might be, and having more Guardians on patrol was good sense. Especially as they had another Royal Lord in their household.

An Ivashkov with a keen interest and the ability to make my girlfriend laugh.

"To be decided." I swing the door open so abruptly he jumps back so it doesn't clip him.

---

"I was beginning to think you two had run away together."

The door shuts behind me with the beep that reassures a barrier between us and the hounds. Spiridon remains halfway down the stairs, leaning against the wall. A healthy, safe distance.

I suppress a smirk. "Afraid something was going to slip inside with me?"

To his credit, he smirks. "Nothing I can't handle."

I open my mouth to reply and then freeze, "Do you hear that?"

His grey eyes sharpen. "What?"

"The backdo -"

I jump, my hand going to my belt and he stumbles slightly on the step just as Ben rounds into view on the landing.

"You alright, man?" He asks.

Spiridon glares at me, where I stand perfectly neutral with my hands at my sides and expression clear.

"You're a prick."

I raise my eyebrows. "You sure your up for this today? You seem a little on edge."

"Are you?" Spiridon fires back. "Tanner's going to be delighted to see you again. You can have a little rematch in front of the Christmas tree."

Ben takes a few steps down until he's level with him, looking apprehensive. "That's not going to happen."

"For his sake." I add. "I am currently not on the precipice of cardiac arrest."

"And the gold, shiny leverage is safely hidden away." Spiridon says and my fingers itch to become a fist.

"It's not going to happen." Ben repeats. "You're not going to taunt." His eyes slide to me, "And you, are not going to rise to it, to anything."

Spiridon and I exchange a look.

"Who died and promoted you from third to first?" Spiridon asks, folding his arms.

Ben is unruffled. Those kinds of comments usually get under his skin.

"He's right." I add, motioning to Ben.

"Yeah, I know." Spiridon says, rolling his eyes. "I've been at the, what are we on now, five meetings we've had in the last few days."

"Six." Victor's voice corrects and soon he appears at the top of the stairs. "Shall we gentleman?"

The next half an hour is spent going back over the plan, contingency plans, theoretical plans, and then we wait.

Another hour goes by. Spiridon begins to pace behind where Victor's stationed on the couch, seemingly at ease, and I watch the drive. It's begun to snow again.

The evening before they all came back and it was still just us, Rose asked me how to make a snowman. A year ago, even months, I wouldn't even entertain the idea. Too set in my...removed space. Unable to engage in such things and not because I would think it's childish but because I wouldn't have the heart to. It has been closed off for far too long until she started to breathe life into it.

Roza finds so much joy in so many things that are taken for granted. To experience the world with her, see it through her eyes, after being surrounded by so many jaded people – it's like experiencing it for the first time too.

Footfalls sound above as Ben leaves the security room. Spiridon stops his slow route from one end of the sofa to the other. My phone vibrates in my pocket.

The wards have been breached.

I listen to Ben's quiet steps on stairs and the transition to marble as he takes position. He'd open the door and show them in. A silver car creeps out of the mouth of the drive and I move away from the window to take up my position by Victor.

Mask on.

I keep my eyes on Ben as the car doors open and close, as the silence falls for a few seconds, before he thumbs in the code and opens the door to the snake.

"Welcome." Ben says.

"Am I?" The voice resonates in the deepest recess of my mind, a place of blurred images and fractured sound. A place where Roza's voice shouts my name and I can't find her. "Because the extra precautions taken seem to suggest otherwise."

Zmey steps over the threshold, cane tucking his cane under his arm as his eyes survey the room. I can't pinpoint it but as his gaze moves over the surrounding, lingering on the tree, I know it displeases him. Maybe because it serves to remind him this is a home and Victor has a family, making it harder to harness a biased and hostility. That's what we'd been hoping for anyway.

Behind him, Tanner enters the house. Instead of standard Guardian black, he's dressed casually, jeans and a dark green coat. His eyes flick from Victor to Spiridon and then to me where they stay.

The parking lot flashes across my mind. A vice around my heart and fire lacing around my skull, vision spotting, but I saw his elbow connect with Rose's face, sending her to the ground. Fury became greater than the pain.

My jaw clenches and I stare back at him, remnants of that fury stirring.

Zmey unbuttons his coat and hands it to Ben. "Thank you." He continues his inspection, coming slowly into the room. "I see you took advantage of the loophole in our agreement."

"I would be an unwise man not to." Victor says calmly and stands. They stare at each other and Ben shuts the door. "But you are welcome for intents and purposes of this meeting as long as you can remain civil this time."

Zmey cocks his head. "As I recall, your man put hands on me first and then threw a chair rather unnecessarily at Mikhail." I can feel the energy Spiridon's burning holding his tongue. "But you have my word, in writing and now verbally, there will no violence instigated by us. Not today."

Victor doesn't falter at the insinuation. "Then please, sit. Would you like a drink? Coffee, tea...Merlot?"

Zmey moves toward the couch, a man at ease, a man without fear. His eyes move across the photos, the Christmas decorations, and settle on Natalie's garden. Something is unnerving about his eyes. It could be because I know behind that gaze calculations and conclusions are being made or that he doesn't blink as much as a normal person. He weighs up everything and doesn't even try to hide it.

Victor clears his throat to gain his attention. He gestures to the seat opposite. "Shall we?"

"You have a lovely home." Zmey says, coming toward us with ease. "Very well kept."

"Thank you." Victor responds, ignoring the jab.

Tanner has remained by Ben but as Zmey sits he comes forward snd it strikes me how odd this is, leaving his Moroi so open to attack. Like his counterpart, he appears at ease but there's tension in his frame which isn't surprising – he's a Guardian, always on alert, always ready – but instead of holding a respectable composer, the bastard smiles at me.

"You look...recovered." He says and to everyone's surprise, he sits down heavily next to Zmey. At my silence, his dark blue eyes move to Spiridon before he turns to his companion. "You might want to outline precedence." Zmey hums in response and he twists to look at Ben. "I'll take coffee, black."

Spiridon's not going to make it through this silently.

"I would appreciate Merlot." Zmey adds.

Victor nods at Ben who looks mildly annoyed to have become the waiter.

"Precedence?" Victor prompts.

Zmey's eyes stop combing the room to meet his. "Yes. When we last spoke I could tell you're Guardian's were itching to have their say – whether it would be constructive or merely insulting is by the by. But I feel the need to outline that Mikhail is not my Guardian, he is my confident. He will have his say here and I extend that invite to your men. I have heard you pride yourself on having a different dynamic. That you take on board their opinions – how radical of you." He smiles and it's not pleasant. "But I suppose it is for a Royal to recognise that there are others more skilled and accomplished in areas they will never be."

"I don't think it's my men that are in danger of dropping insults." Victor returns and once again, the snake smiles. "But they know this discussion is open to them."

Zmeys eyes move above Victor, flicking between his first and second. "Then there is no need to stand there like compliant soldiers. Please, join the meeting."

We don't move.

Victor stares at the man who's come into his home and somehow is managing to dictate how this is going to go, dismantling all the preparation we'd extensively run through. Six times.

Finally, Victor holds up a hand and crooks his fingers signalling for us to join.

Spiridon steps into the inner circle and sits beside Victor, glaring at Tanner who raises an eyebrow. I take the armchair after repositioning it. From this angle I can kick out the table or lunge in front of Victor if I need to. Tanner watches my adjustments but he refrains from commenting.

Ben returns with the drinks and assesses the situation. He takes the other armchair between Tanner and Spiridon.

"Now we are arranged to your liking." Victor says, his relaxed demeanour orchestrated out of sheer will. "Shall we begin?"

Zmey is unruffled. "Certainly. Firstly I apologise for our part in Estonia, primarily in regards to the girl in your company. We did not plan for there to be an altercation of that magnitude and it must have frightened her. If she were here I would ask to apologise in person but as she is not, would you pass it along?"

My teeth might crack.

"But you expected an altercation." Victor spotlights. "I did not so I was not making the same mistakes today, hence by precautions. And certainly, I will pass on your apology but I doubt it will be accepted."

Zmey inclines his head but something flickers across his expression, too fast to determine. "I knew what she was and despite what you may think I was acting in her best interest."

"By trying to kidnap her?"

Every eye turns to me. It was out before I could think better of it.

"Isn't that how she came to be in your company?" Zmey asks quietly.

Denial rages up my throat but dies inside my mouth. We had taken her but it wasn't the same, we saved her. We took her to protect her.

"I don't think being given a three-course meal and a ride on a private jet comes under kidnapping." Spiridon says. "And if you look around, she isn't exactly living in terrible conditions."

"A cage is still a cage." Tanner says and takes the full brunt of Spiridon's glare. "A cage with the same beasts patrolling."

The same.

We had taken her to protect her from the Ozera's, from facing certain death at Moira's hands.

But...we had still taken her and my mouth sours as I realise, she didn't get given the choice.

Victor's voice cuts through my train of thought.

"Rose is cared for here. She has everything she needs and my daughter has hand-picked a tutor to start with her in the New Year. So make no mistake, she is not mistreated, she is not held against her will, she is not exploited. She is family to me. So if we can move on to the reasons you are here and topics of concern."

Zmey's eyes are piercing. "Well, that is a relief."

He takes a drink and Tanner slouches down, resting his ankle on his knee. It's such a Spiridon gesture, trying to appear arrogant and unconcerned.

"Family is everything." Zmey adds, leaning back in his seat.

"Indeed." Victor replies and it's clear his patience is waning. "The last time we spoke you...curated a vision of a militant state, showed strong disdain for your government – am I right in thinking these views have not changed?"

Tanner grins. "Militant state? Did you really paint that picture?"

Zmey doesn't return his amusement. "I did not and I'm certain I corrected this assumption at the time. I outlined the failures of the west. I made clear how The Circle has aided the people and how the new order should be in their interests and their safety. I highlighted how Nathan's forces have grown and the only moves made by the Coalition is to announce decreasing Guardian age, designing holiday fortresses for those that can afford them. Does that not summarise most of what I said?"

"You also threatened that our time was over." Victor replies deadpan.

"Informed." Zmey corrects and takes another sip.

Spiridon snickers. "But the home movie you sent, that was a threat."

"That was to give you another chance to reconsider. For me to again try to convince you."

Tanner scans the tree until they pause on an ornament. I follow his eye line to the glass bauble Natalie had given Rose.

"And it was just casting opportunity to use Robert?" Spiridon asks dryly.

"Robert has never been used." Zmey responds carefully. His eyes move from Spiridon to Victor and I tense. "Are you not going to ask how he is?"

We had discussed him using Robert as a weakness. A tactic Victor was not willing to allow.

Victor returns his gaze steadily. "You're here because I'm granting you the opportunity you were so desperate for. Use my time wisely."

Tanner sighs quietly, his note of aggravation the only sound and my fingers twitch.

"Make no mistake." Zmey says, dropping all pleasantries, his tone is as hard and cold as ice. "I am not making a sales pitch. We are not dependent on your backing – although having it would be beneficial. We are coming out of the shadows and the people will decide, as they have decided in the East. We are not a small group, a cult as you once phrased. The Circle is everywhere – expanding and holding its shape."

Spiridon opens his mouth and I silence him with a look. Antagonising and insulting won't get us anywhere or get them out of here faster.

Zmey inhales and crosses his legs. "It is a lot to take in and envision, I understand. You expressed before you believe in Moroi using their magic to defend themselves but why limit it there? Our ancestors used their magic to build civilisations, to defend themselves and their nations. Dhampir's were not the chosen protectors but their offspring, their families. They were crucial in the family structure and not just the societal one. You spoke of the ruin magic brought but that was instrumented by a power struggle. Every fall or disaster reflects that – it was about ego, and then it was about titles. Soon enough it was Moroi that owned land that would only go to their legitimate Moroi offspring – Dhampirs little by little were stripped of rights and moulded to fit into the structure that benefited those in power. Their strength, endurance, and duality were prized and considered their only worth. So positions offered to them that provided the best security for them was that in militant positions."

Victor considers this, scepticism imprinted on his face. "You make it sound like it was a callous and dictated turnover. That it wasn't down to pragmatism, to optimizing strengths – literally. Dhampir's are not confined to a role, they are not enslaved to us – yes the most profitable jobs are in private contracts and not public posts but why shouldn't they be? But there are still Dhampir's who choose to mainstream or live in communes."

"Less than 10%." Zmey supplies. "And what is pragmatic about Moroi becoming lazy, expectant, entitled, elitist, superior….weak?"

"Weak." Victor repeats, that word being the one he takes most offence with. "There is nothing weak about applying ourselves to the trades we know best, to keep our culture and society upheld. Dhampir's and Moroi co-exist in harmony playing to their strengths. There is no Moroi historically regarded as a great warrior. We fall ill more easily, our muscle mass is less than humans, our bone density more fragile – we are not made to be warriors."

Zmey looks sceptical and Tanner looks at him with pity. It's in those looks from both men that I'm reminded how bizarre this discussion is. How momentous this meeting is.

We had believed Zmey to be one man with a small following behind him, that he'd preyed on the vulnerable and impressionable to recruit them to this vigilante group but then there was the Zeklos massacre, the nests that had been eradicated and the communities rumoured to have been saved. Rumours Balan had carried with her to the west.

Zmey had entered the room alone, came toward us alone whilst Tanner had stood back and it makes me wonder how skilled in combat he is. I do not doubt if there was an altercation Tanner would throw himself to the forefront but Zmey fighting back could alter the fight. Not because of force but because of his abilities and the ingrained rule to protect Moroi. I have never seen an earth user weaponise their abilities and if he had at the bar I hadn't noticed. Tanner, the fire, and Rose were my anchors whilst everything else contorted. No earth users were taking Natasha's class – Natalie had attended but never engaged.

"One of our greatest Queen's was documented to use her element in combat." Zmey says. "Queen Katerina, who himself documents in his private journals as being fair and fierce in her rule."

I try to recall reading anything to do with a warrior Moroi queen but I'm certain I've never heard of her. I exchange a look with Ben which confirms he hasn't either.

"And one of the worst kings in all of history used his and everyone here knows how that turned out." Victor returns with conviction.

A harsh and fragile silence falls. Ben shifts and Spiridon looks between the two Moroi.

The mad king, in hearing he was going to be forced to abdicate, locked himself in the throne room with his Guard, his inner circle, his family – and set then set the place alight. No one survived. Even now, over twenty years later, the ruins of that room are cordoned off and a new throne room was never built. There wasn't any point – within three months it was decided the monarchy be abolished.

And here we are.

"But not everyone here knows why." Zmey says, breaking the silence.

"Please, do enlighten us." Spiridon says drily.

"Perhaps your boss should." Tanner suggests his tone a slur.

I look to Victor who's demeanour is rigid, impatience lined on his face.

"Marius Bardica." He begins, uttering the name that strikes a cold chord in all of us. "Wasn't a fire elemental. He wielded the same abilities as Robert."

Spiridon's expression, for the first time since the visit to the Ozera compound, is wiped clean.

"The same abilities?" Ben repeats, staring at him.

"Yes and no." Zmey answers. "Funny how you speak of a girl you have brought into your home as 'family' and yet there is Robert, who is your family, and how you treated him."

Victor holds up a hand. "I will not listen to you tell me how I mistreated my brother. I did everything to help him but he became beyond help."

"Your issue was that you tried to fix him...you did not try to understand him." Zmey replies with more fire than he's shown all night. "And public record shows that your wife was the only one to regularly visit him after you imprisoned him."

"Imprisoned him." Victor spits, leaning forward. "I sought him the best help possible. I tried to speak to him until he told me to never come back. Do not sit there and tell me about my family."

"The best help possible." Zmey repeats, swirling the reminder in his glass. "You have no idea what they did to him."

"He almost killed her." Victor hisses.

"But he didn't." Tanner says, glaring at Victor with venom that makes me sit forward. "And it wasn't his fault."

Zmey holds up a hand. "Robert was a destructible force when I met him but through guidance and help that he sorely needed, he has become...everything he needed to be." Victor glares at him with more hostility than I've ever seen from him. "Robert is remarkable and it is his regret you reunite with him through the media I presented."

"Almost killed who?" I ask.

Victor reclines, his mouth a hard line. "Natalie."

Beside him, there's a shift in Spiridon. He becomes colder, sharper, all disdainful humour draining.

"He had no control. No guidance. No support." Zmey argues. "Marius was the same and his element consumed him – he was a victim to it."

"Was Marius secretly holding transfiguration events for Strigoi in his chambers?" Spiridon asks, tone a knife tip scraping over metal. "Before he incinerated forty-five people."

"Can the dog stop yapping so we might explain?" Tanner says.

I tense and anticipate Spiridon going for his throat but to his credit, he doesn't move. Instead, he graces Tanner with a look I haven't seen in years, a look that had been reserved for me.

"The element Marius and Robert share is what we refer to as 'spirit'. It is unlike the other elements in the sense a Moroi can sense their limit, feel when the well of power is near the bottom and they need to rest." Zmey explains to all of us. "The elementals of fire, water, earth, and air – they draw on the world around them but spirit comes from within. It's an amplification of the persons' essence. Spirit users tend to have a few skills in common, they can heal wounds, ease pain and their compulsions stronger." Victor had explained Robert had treated their father over the years, staved off a disease that came back angrier each time before it killed him. "They can also influence more than the pain someone may feel, they can manipulate their mood. Spirit users are rare and after spending many, many years seeking them out, helping them, working with them we have learned a great deal. One of the discoveries we shared with you in that tape."

"How is it possible?" I sit forward and his eyes rest on me. Why the fuck are they so unsettling? "Spirit users can reverse someone turning? How does that … what are the repercussion or quality of life? I mean they are not going to be who they were before."

"Because it's bullshit." Spiridon mutters.

"Spirit is living essence, it's pure life, it extends from someone's being – they channel it through alchemist silver. When a Strigoi is pierced with that it almost drives out the evil that has been done." Tanner explains and Zmeys drains his glass. "It has been effective every time we have tried it. Every time the subject has been restored to their mortal selves."

I allow myself to humour it, to go with it. "Okay, their mortal body is restored but what is the aftermath do to the person?"

After losing your living self, after being stripped of your humanity and being governed by an insatiable need to feed on people. How life ceases to hold meaning, bonds broken, love dies, and everything you once valued withers away. All there is, is blood and a predatory nature revolving around the food chain.

How do you come back from that?

Tanner looks at his hands and it says everything.

"Like every horrific trauma it leaves scars." Zmey answers. "And every person is different in how they bear them."

"How many people have you saved?" Ben asks.

Tanner and Zmey exchange a look but it's Tanner that answers. "Eleven."

"And you're bringing this to me because you want to integrate this into regular practice?" Victor's dry voice breaks through my stunned state. "All hinging on a rare ability that makes the host unstable and dangerous."

"Does it?" Ben asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Guard down. "Does spirit automatically mean the user is unstable?"

"Apologies, I was explaining its nature before. It can and usually does because Spirit is the Moroi's essence and not experienced in the same way as the common elements. Overextending spirit can lead to high highs and low lows. It's close to the symptoms of bipolar disease in terms of effects felt but more research would need to be carried out and our resources only go so far."

"No big scientists in The Circle?" Spiridon snides. "You should advertise."

Everyone ignores him.

"And how have you helped them?" I ask. "How have you helped Robert without exploiting him?"

Anger carves itself into Tanners' face.

"They have exploited him." Victor answers.

"Robert is family." Tanner says through his teeth. "And he uses his abilities because he chooses to. He believes in what he is a part of."

"Give an unstable person a bit of stability and of course they'll follow you anywhere." Spiridon says.

"Ironic coming from you." Tanner replies.

Spiridon leaves forward slowly. "Oh please, do elaborate."

Victor places a hand on his arm. "Don't rise to it."

"We help those with Spirit find their centre, what anchors them and explore their limitations and their strengths with their gifts. Not every person is the same." Zmey says calmly, unconcerned with the tension.

"You said 'skills in common' – what other skills are there?" I ask.

Zmey smiles. "Many. Telepathy, illusions, and I'm convinced there are more to be discovered."

Soldiers that could get inside your head, who had a stronger affinity to compulsion, manipulate your mood...render you defenceless from inside out.

My face must reflect some of my thoughts because his smile fades.

"Once again I will bring us back to the point of – you want me to bring this to Coalition and what? Impose it as a new defence against Strigoi? Capture them and turn them back?"

"No." Zmey says simply and Victor exhales heavily through his nose. "That would be impractical. The Strigoi force is too great but I believe putting this knowledge forth would be valuable should we ever lose instrumental figures. That there is hope to bring someone back after they have been awakened. I wanted to bring spirit to your attention, make you see the potential that they have, and ask that you help integrate them. We mentioned before the limitation in our resources but if the Alchemists would consider working with them – the discoveries could be beyond our imaginations."

"Our relationship with the Alchemists is fragile, it always has been. They despise us and our unnaturalness. They are taught to hate us. To be repulsed. Their God-fearing and righteous ways will not accept spirit. They will see it as blasphemy of Christ."

"But the scientists in them might make them bend." Zmey returns and again, he exchanges a look with Tanner. "We have reason to believe that Spirit can make procreation possible between Dhampir's." The silence is heavy, saturated in disbelief and I'm surprised when my back meets the chair. "This is a lot to take in at once, I realise that and I do expect it to be easily taken in. Perhaps another drink?"

This time I get up, I think I'm the only one capable. I refill Zmey's glass and get Victor a neat scotch, refraining from taking a shot of it in the kitchen. I retake my seat and Victor is in the middle of questioning further their angle on the Alchemists. Zmey responds in the scientific frontier, on how a further study of the Spirit's effects on the Moroi could lead to developing medication designed especially for them. He explains how so far they have optimized therapy and counselling to tackle the backlash of Spirit's effects. When a normal Moroi has exerted their gift, which is extremely rare and their test for specialising is the only thing that comes to mind, they simply need to rest. However, Zmey details that Spirit users suffer from depression, despair, and self-harm is a common coping mechanism.

The more in-depth he goes into the more my mind deviates to the Fall. How could Marius have been elected and held power for five years whilst displaying such eradicate behaviour. How was there no one to step forward and diagnose this element as the cause?

And how do these people in his…organization really feel? I find it hard to believe they are not being taken advantage of.

I find it hard to believe a helping hand doesn't come with a price. We all have to pay, one way or another.

I'm pulled from my train of thought as Victor says the Mad Kings name. He asks how could the Alchemists be willing to help people inflicted by the same mania as the man they regard as the 'antichrist'. Before he committed mass murder he was responsible for other catastrophes and nearly exposed us to humans. He ignored warnings from the Guard that extra aid was needed in areas because he was paranoid it was a ruse to leave Court with less protection – it's partially responsible for the situation we currently find ourselves in. Outnumbered.

"Furthermore Alchemists won't be open to your experiment on Dhampir fertility." Victor says, brushing imaginary lint off his knee. "Dhampirs are a breathing abomination. To an extent they except Moroi, I won't pretend to understand their strict beliefs around us but Dhampirs are mutts. Moroi and humans' coupling is intolerable, their offspring abominable. They are not going to support means to let them breed.

Breed, abomination, mutt.

Any muscles that had relaxed in Tanner's face immediately tense again.

"Considering your age vote is looking to fail and you have no contingency in place to amplify the Dhampir numbers, they might be open to the idea." Tanner says, his voice too level and not reflecting the way he's looking at Victor. "Unless you do have other plans?"

I stare at Tanner, fighting the urge to glance at Ben, worried about what looks he might be giving Victor and what it might give away.

"You're right – the age vote will not pass because I have fought tooth and nail to make sure of it." Victor replies, his voice smooth and dangerous. "And whatever misconception you're hinting at it, is false."

"I should hope so." Zmey responds. "Because instating conscription or Dhampir breeding with Moroi volunteers is what I would deem abominable. And I dare say the Alchemists would have more of an issue with that so that leaves us with our solution. This then negates into other issues – Dhampir relationships ultimately fail due to the limitations they have. They should be allowed to start families and have the family structure."

I have to fight, actively will, my face remain blank. How the fuck had they found out about conscription? Which Head had leaked that? And what the hell did he mean by volunteers?

He then goes into detail, glaring uncomfortable detail, of the 'limitations'. Guardian's have ten vacation days to take per year, public holidays are not liberty we have. In private contracts, the number might alter, less or more. In my contract I have twelve. I'm not sure what Spiridon and Ben have but I do know that Spiridon uses his to further Victor's means – spending it with whoever might have information or can be persuaded to get it.

Zmey then goes on to outline the maternity leave Dhampir's have if they are on active duty.

Seven days.

Day one starts when the contractions do. If they want to return to work they are expected to be on duty by day eight. The child is left in the care of family and if they don't then they are left to a school.

Ten days out of the year to visit and spend time with your child. I'd never given this a lot of thought, just background knowledge of no real value but hearing it now sounds ridiculous. Listening to Zmey clearly outlines how little parental influence a Dhampir child has and how it teaches them they belong to the system. They therefore grow up with the internalised belief that they then have to protect the system that has protected them.

I can see Ben breaking it down in his head, see him grapple with it like I am but Spiridon…

Spiridon's face is blank. Completely blank.

"Not only do we want Moroi to utilize their gift, basic self defence and combat taught to all, advanced for those who want to learn – we envision that Dhampir's also gain in this new world. Level ground is the goal, equality. And I am not so starry-eyed to believe this will happen overnight, in a month or a year but it will happen." Zmey says, looking around us and not just at Victor, with a determination that makes his words appealing. "If Moroi can stand beside Dhampir instead of behind them, instead of retreating behind walls as blood is spilled and the world crumbles, then what is there to lose?"

He lets that rest with us and when Victor opens his mouth he immediately starts talking again. "St. Vladimir's have thirty-two Guardians. Communities have two. How can that be logically and ethically argued as fair? Or better yet how is it logically and ethically fair that you have three. Three Guardians skimmed from the cream of the crop. Tell me – how is it fair?"

"Communities -" Victor begins but Zmey cuts him down.

"The Ozeras." He says, determination simmering into something darker, more intense. "Had seventeen which you then replaced with seven. Tell me, Lord Dashkov, in this system that you fight for – how is it fair?"

My breathing shallows and out of the corner of my eye I see Spiridon reposition his footing, ready to spring.

"Ah, but seventeen Guardians weren't there to protect them, were they?" Tanner says quietly.

There is a void opening in the pit of my stomach.

Zmey's voice is dark and cold, a winter wind whistling over barren land. "No, they were there to warden the Dhampir slaves they owned."

"You have been busy." Victor begins after a long-strained moment. "So you will know that when I learned of that violation I acted. I rescued a child from that place, the only one with a chance. The others held there were beyond my means, too far gone to ever be reintroduced back into society. I brought that child into my home and I have done everything to make sure she meets that chance with full potential. The Guardians the Ozera's hired I replaced with vetted ones. They have been in charge of ensuring those Dhampirs are cared for, their needs met and the Ozera's have not been allowed to step foot back onto that land. Now I imagine you are going to ask where is justice and punishment – I do not have to disclose that to you but know this, it will come."

"After Lucas has advocated for your ideas and your crown, no doubt." Zmey says.

Half the room goes very still.

I move my heel the slightest fraction just to feel the knife's weight.

"That... is a very serious accusation." Victor says slowly.

"He wasn't accusing." Tanner replies easily.

No, they weren't. Somehow they knew. They knew far too fucking much and the void expanding in my stomach is warning me they knew more.

The press of the hidden blade and the weight of my belt steadies me.

"I don't care about your ambitions because you frankly I don't believe you'll reach them." Zmey continues, the full weight of his gaze on Victor. "What I care about is how you can advocate yourself as a leader and how you can sit there and say you have done everything within your power to help those in Arizona. I care about what plans you have and you aim to help the people."

Victor sighs heavily as if he's dealing with someone unreasonable and tiring. To him he probably is.

"It's easy for you to have this idealism of everyone working together, in harmony and it's easy for you to criticise the values and system in place, highlight certain parts as iniquitous because you have not in been the thick of it. You have not been trying to hold everything together when all it wants to do is collapse. You have been running around playing vigilante and deluding people into following you, people who are probably easily manipulated and wide-eyed at the things you promise. Our system is flawed, yes, and no I do not believe Dhampirs have as many rights as they should but to try an enforce change now when there are bigger threats is erroneous.

What have I done? I have made sure trade routes and aren't blocked. I have bribed and bartered to implement leave to those stationed in the Red Zones, as in they step away from the base. I have ensured the age vote does not pass. I have liberated slaves and secured care. I have essentially adopted a Dhampir as my own and if isn't clear I do not treat my Guardians as if they are beneath me. They have their own bedrooms in my family home and I know they feel it is their own. I have donated to recovery programmes for women addicted to the bite and when our communities are hit hard I make sure I am on the ground within hours to show that, as you put it, I will not cower behind my high walls. I advocate for Moroi learning self-defence if they wish to."

He throws a hand toward me and I tense. "Dimitri and Natasha Ozera share a passion for this, teaching who wants to learn how to work together and have been invited to the academy in Romania to coach for a semester. I will not stand in the way of that. And do you know why it works? Because they mutually respect and have affection for each other and that's why this works. 'They come first' isn't about rank or importance, it's about honour and understanding where one's strengths lie. Dhampir's no matter what way you dress it up are naturally equipped to be warriors, to lead on the field, and protect those who need protection. They lead in the arena and to be frank, it would insulting for them to be asked to do otherwise."

There is something in me squirming like an insect under a magnifying glass and I fight the instinct to roll my shoulders. What did it matter what he insinuates to this man about me and Natasha? If anything it's good that he knows she's not cut from the same cloth as her brother. She is not responsible for his sins...but all I can think of is Rose, and the look on her face when Natasha is mentioned, how angry and cold she'd been that night after discussing the contracts. The dent I'd put in the wall behind her dresser.

Victors looking at me with intense expectancy and I've completely missed whatever he's spewed. "Well? Would you? Would you let Natasha throw herself in front of you, protect you, while you hang back?"

It falls from my lips without thought. "No."

"Spiridon, Ben? You know what a capable woman she is, how skilled, but you still trust her to take the lead and protect children, families, better than you can?"

"No." Spiridon answers coldly.

"No." Ben says after a beat, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"We are not equal races and it insults both sides to say otherwise." Victor says.

He is right... in the reasons put forth. We are faster, stronger, and more durable than a Moroi, no matter strong or quick they are with their magic but…doesn't that mean we are entitled to better in some ways? If we are exerting so much then shouldn't we at least be given the respite to recover from it?

Why haven't I thought of this before?

I feel blind-sided by the obvious. I feel like a child again realising once again and too late that a cruel joke has been at my expense.

"The bond between a Moroi and Guardian is vital and trust that needs to go both ways. A Guardian needs to know that their charge is not going to be reckless and risk their lives, and others, in the pursuit of playing hero. Natasha is fierce, fair, and she will teach people how to use their magic defensively and it will make the difference, a realistic one. If you want to be part of that change then I believe we can work together, Zmey. Perhaps find compromise in the middle where – if you have Moroi who insist on being on front lines then we will work that out.

I hear the grievances that have no doubt have come from the rural areas, poorer communities and I am more than willing to work with you to help provide for them too. They need more protection? Understood. Dhampir mothers need more resources? We will find ways to provide. And those few Guardian's with children we can see what flexibility there is for them to spend more time together but again – realistically."

It's an impressive speech, defensive and yet cooperative, opposing yet offering some compromise – a politician's words.

Zmey stares at Victor with unconcealed contempt and cynicism, not one word bought.

Shame seeps out of the void and again I fight not to fidget.

"Mikhail." Zmey says, low and controlled. "Would you fetch the files from the car?"

"It would be my pleasure." He stands in one quick motion that I mirror.

He doesn't spare me a second glance as I shadow him into the foyer. I step close to the keypad and dial in the code to let him out, my senses on high alert with him at my back.

I anticipate a Spiridon-like comment but the door beeps and he wastes no time stepping out into the night. The presence of Psi Hounds seemingly has no effect. I watch from the doorway and my hand drifts to the back of my waistband as he ducks down into the car. I feel Spiridon's gaze watching for an indication to act.

The car door slams. Tanner walks back carrying a thick binder and nothing else, not that I could see anyway. I measure his gait and for any irregular outline against his clothing.

"You can stop checking me out. I don't swing that way." He says flatly and strides across the porch and over the threshold. "And unlike some people, I can't be paid to."

I pray Spiridon didn't hear that.

I close the door behind him. "But you are happy to chase down an eighteen-year-old, terrorize her and attempt to kidnap her."

He pauses. "Again. How is that any different from what you did?"

The void continues to consume my insides. "She fought to stay with me. That's the difference."

Over his shoulder Zmey turns in his seat.

"Stockholm syndrome." Tanner counters.

Ice moves down my spine to pool in my stomach but I remain still.

The small hint of mockery diminishes out of his features and is replaced with hatred. "And another difference is you put down good men. Blinded one and I'm willing to wager you didn't apply that much force to those that took money to keep slaves." For the first time in years, my mask slips, just a fraction, a small crack but he catches it. "That's what I thought."

He stalks back to the others, passing the files to Zmey and it takes a moment for me to follow.

Spiridon's eyes are two pieces of flint eager to spark, following Tanner as he sits. He had heard.

I retake my seat feeling wound tight, both needing and dreading a reason to throw myself into action. I shift and under my gear, the chain tickles my skin.

Inhale. Exhale.

Zmey sits forward, the binder balanced on his lap. "You provided care to emancipated slaves?"

"I did." Victor says, lifting his chin.

Zmey opens the binder and inside are numerous thin files. He begins depositing them on the table in front of us as he speaks. "You left them in the hell in which they suffered, replacing wardens with minders to tend to their needs...tell me, are Guardian's trained to understand the type of phycological damage done by years of abuse in forms starvation, forced labour, rape, beatings and the suffocating daily threat of death. Are they?"

Bile touches the back of my throat and I can't meet his expectant gaze as it passes over each of us. I stare at the files like they're grenades and at the last one he holds.

"I removed the threat." Victor bites out.

"For your means." Zmeys says slowly, each word heavy. "And what you left behind was not kindness or salvation. I can that because I have seen it. I have been to the Arizona estate and do you what I found? Jaded men happy to have a comfortable job. The worst to deal with is an outburst or in their words 'tantrums'."

I am steel and stone but not on the inside, on the inside I am falling.

He gestures to the files. "You say you helped these people. Look at them, look at them as individuals and tell me you helped them." None of us move and on Victor's lap his hands have become fists. "Each soul we have helped and have taken to one of my rehab facilities where they have been given a physical and psychiatric assessment with recommendation for treatment. I am not as wealthy as you, Lord Dashkov. I have not as influential and I am not as well resources and yet..." The last file in his grip trembles as rage burns in his dark eyes. "And the girl you brought here, the one you ripped her away from her mother, the one you have generously brought into your home and pay for her labour, grounding her worth in it - you left her mother behind."

The last file slaps onto the table, a silent but violent explosion and my nails dig into the chair.

"You left these people to the freedom of their cage. To tread over the graves that were still to be their future. And what about those graves? Lord Dashkov, where was your compassion for those that were murdered in that place?"

The stone is fracturing and cracking. I have forgotten how to breathe, how to regulate and use it as a counterpoint.

"Murdered?" Spiridon repeats and I latch on to his tone. The disbelief and anger firing it. "We would know if they'd murdered someone. Rose would have told us -"

"Why would she?" Tanner interrupts. "Did you ever ask?"

Spiridon parted lips press into a hard line.

"How many?" I hear myself ask from somewhere outside myself.

Zmey doesn't look at me but remains fixated on Victor. "Can you remember? Could you distinguish how many when you felt the pull?"

Slowly, unwillingly but without choice, my eyes turn to Victor who's face remains hard and clear. In his lap, his thumbs strokes his index finger and the void blows open like a black hole as he says, "I don't know what you mean."

Tanner snorts and I ask again, louder. "How many?"

"Four." Zmey says and swallows, some of the rage giving way. "One, a boy, could be as young as twelve."

"And where's the fucking file for that?" Spiridon spits from far away.

Twelve. A boy of twelve. My mind begins to spiral and flashes of that yard, that forest, the hounds, the Guardians' faces whirl by. Lucas' calm and impassive disposition when we confronted him. Moira's volatile and cruel rage, spitting and cracking like a cold fire. How she looked at Rose in that foyer and I thought, was arrogant enough to believe, that we had made it in time. We got there before the worst could happen.

I come back to the room and Spiridon isn't in his seat but pacing with a file.

I swallow. "Was he...was Janine his mother?"

"No." Tanner answers after a brief pause in which Zmey's jaw clenches. "But Lucas did father him."

"I don't believe this." Victor says.

"Oh, you do." Zmey returns. "You called it aid and the evidence on your table says otherwise. You say you help the communities? Three have been attacked in the last week and not one report has been issued by the Guard and why? Because they haven't the resources to send so they won't document it. We were there, we answer the calls and we provide essentials to those who have nothing. You arrived in Lahemaa after it was clear. Tanner raised the alert and our people were there within twenty-five minutes. Our people went into the caves to deliver mercy and justice. And you? You have them a pretty speech." Zmey stands and so does Tanner. The only thing that brings me to my feet is some secondary instinct as my head swims. "You donate to organization for the bite? Where evidence is mounting that the addiction comes back in force because the treatment cannot be afforded. We offer free clinics. You say your system is collapsing? Of course it is, because you don't care for the people holding it up."

Victor slowly gets to his feet and buttons his jacket, holding Zmeys eye. "Am I right in assuming we have reached an impasse? And you are not willing to compromise or co-operate with your government?"

There's a deep cracking noise.

Veins run through the glass wall and through the webbing the flowers in the garden are shrinking, the sunflowers bowing as the garden dies. I step closer to Victor as I watch the lines multiply and run in every direction.

Glass infused with earth, a living element, extra protection against Strigoi.

I look to Zmey who has not broken from glaring at Victor as he rises.

"I gave you a warning in Estonia. I sent you the tape out of courtesy. Now we are here and that warning is coming to fruition. Your time is over. The corruption you uphold will be ripped out and if you resist, you will be ripped out with it."

"Threaten my charge again." Spiridon says, lowly. "See what happens."

Zmeys eyes, so dark the pupil is hard to see, move to Spiridon."I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He steps out of the circle and moves toward the foyer.

Tanner gestures to the table. "Read the rest of the files. If you are still willing to protect him after then I don't know how you can live with yourself. But I suppose, dogs are loyal to the hand that feeds and pets."

Faster than I would give him credit for, Ben is between them and blocking Spiridon.

"You are an enemy of the state." Victor calls after Zmey, stepping around the table and I hold up a warding arm. "Your cult has been brought to the Coalition's attention and the Guard will seek action against your threat."

Tanner smirks. "Let's hope prince and princesses can spare one of their many Guardians, then the Guard might have forces to send against us."

"Get out of my house." Victor blazes.

Tanner's eyes flick toward the wall behind me as he moves toward Zmey. "While there are still enough walls to call it that."

Ben's hand comes down on Spiridon's shoulder.

Zmey pulls on his coat having retrieved it himself and I force myself across the room to punch in the code. Tanner breezes out of the house and leaves Zmey to survey the room alone.

"We could have been allies." Victor says.

The winter wind sweeps in and for the first time in a long time, I feel the cold.

Zmey regards him with regret and anger. "I had hoped for the same. I had hoped you were different but all I see is another man who would destroy everything for a crown."

He walks out into the night and after a beat I follow, pulling the door closed behind me.

"There is no need to escort us." He says without turning.

"Janine Hathaway." The name falls off my lips in a frosted breath and causes him to stop on the flagstones. There's so much I want to say, need to know but all that comes is, "Is she safe?"

His shoulders rise and fall a small fraction and then he turns back. "She is, now."

The void is devouring my insides. "Rose, she'll want to talk to her. Give her that, please."

He studies me and I realise my mask is off. I don't know when I let go of it.

"I'll provide you the number." He says quietly. "If she wants to come to the phone she will."

I take out my phone and with numb fingers I note the number, the extension, and the phrase to use.

"Why wouldn't she speak to her?"

"Because it's her choice. Because it might hurt too much." He turns away and walks toward the driver's side.

The void is devouring me. All I can see is Roza's eyes and agony filling them, more pain she doesn't deserve.

I take a restrained step after him. "Then will you tell her I kept my promise? Tell her I won't break it."

His dark eyes pin me. "Your promise?"

"Yes." She is happy. She is healthy. She is strong. She smiles and laughs and is full of so much warmth and light. She is becoming who she is supposed to be. "And tell her she misses her."

Moments pass until he nods and finally says, "Tell Rose that I returned her necklace and I am sorry for how we met."

I sway. The necklace that was the only thing Janine possessed and had given to Rose, the thing stolen away from her and broke a piece of her heart in guilt. He had returned her it.

To know about its ownership meant he'd somehow gotten that information from Janine. My stomach rolls thinking about it…

God, please, let her be safe. Don't let him lie about this.

The sound of the car door opening snaps me back and Zmey ducks into the car. I have so many questions and the answers are slipping away as the door slams.

Tanner glares at me over the car roof. "Should you wake up and suddenly realise you are on the wrong side of things, have aided crimes against humanity and such – reunite the girl with her mother. She should be in therapy too, to say the least, not wiping a prince's floors."

My fingers curl into fists and he gets into the car.

I stand there long after the car has disappeared. My mind is in free fall and yet holds nothing. Ben calls me back inside and when I don't move his hand presses onto my shoulder, steering me back.

Inside Spiridon holds two files, eyes furiously moving across the pages and reading aloud. Victor is frowning at him as if he's reading some lewd poem.

"They've run dental records. For this one, they've found relatives in Kazan."

"The family can be given closure." Victor says non-committally and moves toward his ruined wall.

"She was thirty." Spiridon goes on. "She was thirty and dead in a grave. How did – why didn't we question Lucas on this? Why did we just assume he wasn't capable when we had so much evidence…"

He tails off, whatever he's reading silencing him.

I pick up Janine's file but I can't bring myself to open it.

"She was the boys' mother." Ben says quietly. He's holding the file with 'john doe' printed on the front. Spiridon's is stamped 'Jane doe'. "It says right here at the bottom."

"He said Lucas was the father…" I utter and what I feel is reflected on their faces. "So that means -"

"Enough." Victor's voice is a whip. He's examining the glass wall and gingerly presses his hand to it. The cracks begin to glow ever so slightly but do not heal. "There. It should hold. Not very aesthetically appealing but we can worry about that in the New Year."

I realise I'd been waiting for him to provide a plan or offer words of explanation for the compilation of our failures laid out on the table.

Everything that void had been devouring, it begins to spit back in a building torrent of rage. "It means Lucas had a child that he kept as a slave. It means that he had a child with a woman he kept as a slave. We'd been so fucking relieved to learn Rose wasn't his that we never stopped to consider that there could have been. Hr murdered his son."

"Dimitri." Victor says warningly. "It wasn't his son."

"The forensic report is right here and sure it could be fabricated but it doesn't derail from the fact there is a child in a grave -" Ben says but Victor cuts him off.

"I meant, Lucas would never acknowledge that he had another son. Not even now."

"What's that got to do with it?" Spiridon asks carefully.

Victor sighs. "I have words for how horrific it is but we cannot be implicated in this. Lucas will have fulfilled his purpose on the council soon enough and once Natasha takes his place then we can deal with him and Moira but as it stands, we do not know anything about bodies."

There's a long moment in which cracks run through the silence. Cracks that he won't be able to repair because when Zmey asked him if knew, his finger had brushed against his thumb, and that was Victor's tell.

He'd sensed the graves. He knew death was on that estate.

"Because you can't be thought to have helped him hide it." My voice is barely controlled. "Because if it comes to light he had slaves, you instated helped and removed him from the situation but murder you can't explain away."

Victor looks at me levelly.

"We." He corrects.

Papers rustle as Spiridon's arms fall to his sides. "We aren't going to act on this? Twelve. Twelve years old, Victor. His own son and the mother, well let's not rule out that Moria probably did it herself."

"Let Zmey out them. The positives here is that if he's telling the truth we are removed from it and those people are receiving institutionalized help."

"And if he's not?" I ask. "What do we do?"

His gaze is hard. "We are not getting further involved, Dimitri."

The file in my hand burns. "It's Rose's mother."

He stares at me, unwavering.

"He said he had rehab facilities. They'd have to be in the state right? Could you get on your hacker shit and try and find something?" Spiridon directs at Ben.

"Yeah, I can look into it." Ben answers.

I look away from Victor. The man I believed in isn't the man in front of me any more. "He gave me a number to call so Rose can speak to her mother."

"We can trace it." Spiridon says.

"They'll expect that." Ben says looking thoughtful. "But I could get around it."

"They'll be recording the call but we can coach her on what she can't say." Spiridon adds.

"I'm not sure we telling Rose is the best idea." We all turn back to Victor and that pressure, that whisper of promised rage, presses around my skull.

"She didn't tell us about the bodies. That Lucas had an illegitimate child that he murdered." Spiridon argues. "We need to know what else she isn't telling us."

What else she isn't telling us. What else could she have lived through and kept buried inside, the reasons she forced herself to suffocate.

The room sways again.

Inhale. Hold. Hold. Exhale.

"She deserves to know where her mother is, how she is." I force out.

"She's been doing completely fine so far." Victor strolls around the end of the dining table. "This will only upset her. Doesn't she deserve to have a nice holiday? Her first Christmas."

She deserves everything.

"She deserves to know where her family is." Ben responds flatly and killing my hesitancy. "And isn't this the kind of thing we all get to vote on?"

"It is." I say, thinking quickly. "This falls under strategy with our involvement with the Ozera's and connection to the circle and you said yourself, Victor, there are some things that play to our strengths rather than yours."

The look he gives me is familiar and foreign. A familiar expression of rage but foreign on his face. I've changed in his view as well, I'm not his second. I'm a problem.

"We tell her." Ben says, casting his vote.

"I agree."

We both look to Spiridon. He looks between us and then at Victor.

"We can't have any more mines in the field." He says. "We tell her."

"Very well." Victor responds, resigned. "But when this dissolves all the progress she has made and happiness she had found, you all better be prepared to contain that. We leave in a few days and if she is not fit to fly then she will be compelled, for her own sake."

The pressure is contracting around my skull.

"She'll be fine." Spiridon answers firmly.

He wasn't getting near her. He was not compelling her against her will. He was not taking away her choice.

"I'll start looking at facilities." Ben says, breaking the tense silence.

"I'm going to get Rose." I turn on my heel and ignore my name.

I make it to my car before Spiridon catches my elbow. "Oh good, you didn't grab me by the throat. Progress. Listen, wait until she comes back here. If you tell her when your heated your going to make it worse. You'll make her unmanageable."

For someone who didn't want to be grabbed by the throat, he certainly seems intent to encourage it. "Unmanageable?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean. You see her how Victor sees her, an asset or a disadvantage."

"And what do you see her as?" He demands, flint sparking.

"A person, Spiridon. A fucking person who had it harder than we did – you could at least grasp that."

Suddenly he's in my face. "I get that. I think I'm the one who fully gets that because I have been the one trying to make sure she's hard enough to face the world. She knows pain physically but the rest of the shit? The rest of the shit that hollows you out and aches no matter what you fill it with or plaster over it. She has to be strong to not collapse anytime anyone presses on those things."

I draw myself up and look down at him. An old reflex, one I hadn't exercised in years and I say to him with that ancient contempt that was always buried in my core. "Because you turned out so well."

He steps back and I yank the car door open.

I tear down the driveway and take the turn toward the open road, the back of the car sliding before gaining its grip.

I have to get to her. I need her beside me. I need the weight of her in my arms as reassurance. To see the proof that she is whole and safe and happy…

Not the shadow of herself that came to us. Who had seen, heard, and endured abuse. Who likely saw a boy die. Who thought that would be her fate. Who had scars all over her back like premonitions and...and she had been taken from the only person had had ever shown her comfort. We had taken her, four men, and all she'd known about men had been terror.

How she first met me barrels through my mind. I hand pinned her to the ground and that fear that had been in her face hadn't just been in fear of fists or burns.

She must have thought… she must have thought -

Pain lances through my chest and the car swerves. A horn blares and I drag the wheel to the left until the car sails into the roadside. I slam on the brake and come to a screeching halt.

I can't breathe.

I try to regulate it, like a diver coming up for air, but I can't get control. Another pain blazes across my chest and I fist the material of my gear.

A boy as young as twelve. His mother in a grave too. The hatred in Moira's face as Rose hid behind me in, barely standing under the pain of the wound she had given her, under the certainty she had failed in her task to die that night.

Four graves would have become six.

My head connects heavily with the headrest. My heart is hammering. I don't know when I started hitting the wheel, the dashboard until I can't fight the pain encasing and compressing inside me.

I surrender to it.

---

Hello lovelies, if you made it here in one sitting, well done to you. This is VERY VERY long and maybe i should have split it in two.

I don't think I'll write a chapter to this length again just because it is very hard to edit and I don't want there to be like, a feeling of going from one extreme to the next.

Also few other things: I altered Rose / Dimitri's ages. So Rose is now 18 and Dimitri was 23 when they met, now just turned 24 and Rose is closer to 19. I've also changed the Mad Kings name – originally he was called Neil. Jesse's surname has also changed.

Inserting Ivan into the story might seem a little random but I wrote a subchapter where he features into Dimitri's backstory so it felt right to mention him here.

Next chapter will be from Rose's PoV and the aftermath of Zmey's revelations.

xxxx