RPOV

A ringing cuts through the haze. It stops only to start again, and I surface when he shifts to take out his phone.

I don't know how long we've been sitting like this, how long I've been in this stupor where my body jerks with every other breath but the ability to feel outside of the agony returns. My face is furiously hot and wet, my eyes weighed with a heavy ache and my fingers are locked so tightly on his shoulder I don't think I can pry them off.

Dimitri clears his voice before he answers, and the sound sharpens things further.

"Zdravstvuyte."

He murmurs curt 'yes' and 'no's', ending the call as quickly as possible.

I can't lift my head.

"Ben" He explains to the silence. His hand presses back in between my shoulders, firm and gentle circles, his other arm tight around my waist. "We've taken longer than expected but there isn't any rush."

We have to go back. We can't stay like this. I must remember my place in the world.

His fingers sweep up my spine and brush over the back of my head.

I'm cold on the inside. That black writhing and angry thing is glaring at me in betrayal. The place that used to hide me and take me away from my surroundings when I needed it. It would not welcome me back. It refused to reseal and take its horrors with it.

I dredge up the energy to unlatch my fingers and push back. His warm hand immediately cups my face, but I can't stand it. I pull away and numbly climb back over to the passenger seat. His touch doesn't leave me, fingertips feather-light on my arm and I know he's waiting for me to say something but there's nothing left to say.

I don't want to think. I don't want to have to face more questions. I don't have anything left to pull out of myself.

I can't stand him looking at me, seeing everything that resided in the pit clinging to my skin. I want, more than anything, to climb into the dark and to never come back out.

"I want to go to bed." I tell him because we can't stay here and I can't be alone until we're back with other people.

He's quiet for a moment and I tip my head toward the window, the cool glass a balm on my cheek.

"Okay."

My forearms ache from clinging to him and my knuckles are bruised from lashing out. I prefer that kind of pain. I can concentrate on it until I'm alone I'll be okay.

When he doesn't start the car right away I close my eyes, focus on breathing in and out. I think he says something to me but I don't hear it. I keep my eyes closed and keep my mind trained on the ache in my fingers, the cold glass against my face, the throbbing around my knuckles – ignore everything the pit is trying to display but I catch glimpses, and it makes my bones shudder.

They shudder until a calm weight rests on my thigh.

"Roza, we're here."

My body is betraying me, not allowing me to stay in control, and again I have to concentrate on unpeeling my eyes. I've curled up against the door. More deep breaths and I unlatch my fingers and slowly straighten up.

The house casts the only light into the car's shadows. Dimitri's face in the dim light is a waxen, cheap version of his Guardian mask as if he's torn between hiding what he feels and afraid of showing it. His dark eyes catch what little light there is being cast from the house and my stomach twists. They're bloodshot and a muscle feathers in his jaw as he watches me.

"Are you okay?" My voice is thin and dry.

His brows furrow and I see him grapple with the restraint, feel worse for it. "Am I okay? You're asking if I'm okay?"

Stupid.

Stupid questions.

Stupid little bitch.

"Sorry." I yank the door handle and fall out onto the drive. I ignore him saying my name. I just need to get inside and lock the door to my room.

I sense him behind me but I don't stop. When we get inside they're all waiting and the pit rumbles, demanding my attention but the cold has numbed me from the inside out.

The coffee table is littered with files exactly like the one Dimitri had given me on my mother, that I had left behind in the car.

Stupid little bitch.

Spiridon has one in his hand, sitting on the very edge of his seat. He'd looked up when we'd come in, grey eyes lingering for a moment, before turning back to the page in his hands.

Victor is at the dining table, a glass with a large measure of dark liquid in front of him and a clear plate. Behind him, the glass wall is destroyed. Lines run in every direction, overlapping, and crisscrossing so it's impossible to follow one thread. If the storm was still raging I bet it would get inside.

"You ignored our advice I see?"

My gaze is pulled from the glass to realize Victor is no longer at the table but a few steps in front of me. And he is looking above my head. He's angry that man bested him in his own home and channeling it toward Dimitri.

Irritation cleaves through the numb, hot and sharp.

"I asked what was wrong." I hear myself say. "And Dimitri didn't lie or ignore me. He's the only one who met her, it was right he told me."

And without you all watching. Watching…what the truth did to me, what it's still doing to me and they would see me again as that girl of flesh and bone who was scared to raise her eyes to a Moroi's and I hated that. Right now I hated her.

Victors' eyes drop to me, softening. I see his lips move but I don't hear him, the words slip around me, and I'm drawn back to the glass.

Zmey did that. I know it. He destroyed it like he destroyed that bar, put cracks in the first place I'd felt safe, stole my necklace, and stolen the person I'd tried so hard to build, to become.

The pit beckons, a violent echo of voices and memories, it wants to swallow me up and overtake me again.

I take a step back and bump into Dimitri. "I'm going to bed."

Victor frowns at me. "Didn't you hear what I said?"

"It can wait." Dimitri says from above behind me.

The anger in his voice confuses me but I don't have it in me to piece together why or ask Victor to explain. I realize Spridon's moved. He now stands by Victors' right shoulder, arms folded, staring at Dimitri.

"It would be better to talk to her now." Spiridon says calmly. "While things are…fresh."

"That is the worst thing to do." Ben snaps, crossing the room.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here." I say coldly and they all pause.

"That's not – we didn't mean to." Ben begins with pity written all over his face. He opens his mouth but I cut him off.

"I'm going to bed."

I turn away and start up the stairs, my mind shying away from their voices so it's all white noise. When I cross the threshold of my bedroom the void gets louder- my mother's voice, Eddies, Guardian Grant, and Alto, all come rushing out of it. The panic spreads through my blood, sizzling at every nerve ending and my fingers fumble over the lock.

I don't fight it and let the black engulf me.

"If I were away from here, I'd be higher than those clouds…faster than them too."

"You're already faster than a cloud. They take forever to cross the sky."

"But they get to cross the sky. I wonder what they can see that we can't. They get to be here then they're gone, moving away. You're turn."

"If I was away from here…I'd live in a big kitchen." Eddie starts laughing at me. "I would! A big sink filled with water to wash and then I'd make whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to. And nobody else would be there. Just me. And it wouldn't be so hot, it would be like when the sun's setting and it's still warm, but the wind is nice."

"There's wind blowing around your kitchen?"

I shrug. "Why not."

"And where am I?"

"Racing clouds but you'd stop to come in and eat with me."

Eddie grins. "Alright."

I turn to him, grass tickling my cheek. His face is half covered in a patterned shadow of the leaves above. "If you're up there running you might forget where I am. I'll look so small, you won't find me."

Eddie smiles, watching the clouds through the gap in the trees above. "I won't forget. I won't go anywhere without you."

I don't know how long I've been curled up here for. If I've slept or if I've just been…inside my head. The wave of the void has rolled out and allowed me to surface. I feel heavy and yet made of nothing. A tear tickles its way across my nose, and I move my fingers to wipe it away.

Something's buzzing, maybe that's what woke me. It stops and then starts again a few seconds later and I realize it's my phone. It's coming from the floor somewhere. I hope it stops. I just want it to be quiet.

I'd forgotten so much, I think. It's hard to know what's real, what are dreams, or if the pit is trying to make things up to punish me.

I'd forgotten Eddie. I'd forgotten him in the way he laughed or how one of his bottom teeth was slightly crooked. I'd forgotten our games and hiding places. But I hadn't – not really, I'd remembered to always keep it forgotten, to not think of it because when I did…

My bones shudder as a sob claws its way out of my throat. I press my face into the damp comforter trying to smother it. My nails bite into my sides and I force myself to concentrate on the pain of it

When I did think of Eddie, when it was so new that he wasn't there anymore and even when I didn't mean to look for him I did. I looked for him out of habit, turning to say something to someone who'd always been there, who was as much as part of me as my two hands were. And then he wasn't there, and I'd remember why, and when that happened, I'd lose control of myself.

Janine shaking or slapping me would bring me back from – wherever I went.

And the very last time it happened she begged me to stop it, to stop thinking about it because if I didn't, they were going to do the same thing to me.

I pretended for a while that Eddie had to work somewhere else. His mom was mad and needed him to do something for her, and I couldn't look for him because it would get him into trouble. I made myself believe lies until I stopped needing to pretend. Those instincts got smaller until I could stuff them behind the door where I'd also put other things. The things Grant had said to me, a handful of times I caught them looking at me, the sound of their laughter and how before Eddie died Mary had been different. She'd be annoyed with me if I gave her reason to, but she didn't act like my very existence was a bad thing.

Then Eddie died.

And my existence was irritating. I didn't speak to anyone, not that I did speak much to anyone else, but it became something I knew not to do. Then my mother told me it was important to come back inside when I was finished working, to never be on my own, and then she got the bandages.

My mind tumbles from one thing to the next.

How did I spend six years not speaking to anyone but her unless I was spoken to? And if I was spoken to it, wasn't a good thing. How did I remember how to speak after that long? If I didn't have my dictionary to memorize, to paint pictures for myself and my writing tasks then…what would have happened to me?

Can a person become so small and lost inside themselves they don't come back out?

A small noise drags me back to the room. It's lighter than before, weak sunlight peeking around my blinds that I hadn't closed properly. The noise comes again, and I don't have to lift my head to see the door handle move a fraction.

My eyes lift to the lock.

Even If I could get up I wouldn't open it.

The handle rotates back into place and the room is silent again. I exhale and force myself to turn over.

I'm pressed against Eddie's back. It's colder today and if we lie like this, we both fit onto the bedroll. He could take Janine's because she's not here but that would be weird.

"If I were away from here…I'd get you more books and you could read to me more."

"If we were away from here, I'd teach you all the words I know and how to draw them."

"You're smarter than me." He said quietly.

"You're braver than me."

I jerk awake, the smell of warm wood and dirt filtering away.

I grab a pillow and hug it to me. "You're still braver than me."

"Rose."

There's a light knock on the door and Ben asks if he can get me anything, if I'm hungry, and after a pause when I think he's left he says, "Can you…just tell me you're okay?"

I don't have it in me to lie or pretend so I listen to him sigh and walk away.

The pressure on my bladder refuses to let me sink back inside myself so I uncurl, joints popping, and stagger to the bathroom, keeping all the lights off.

Washing my hands forces a confrontation with the mirror. My face is pale, the only coloring left surrounds my eyes. The sting of red from crying, the purple smudges underneath, and how the brown seems so dull. Even my mouth has changed, turned down as if weighed at the edges. I test pushing against the corners but the girl in the mirror grimaces and flinches at the sight.

Despite this, she still looks better than she did when she first appeared here to me all those months ago.

How did I get to be the one standing here and not him? How was it fair?

He was so much braver than I was. He would have enjoyed biting back at Spiridon, finally getting to say everything I told him not to. He would have asked Ben better questions, wanted to learn more about computers and weapons, sat with him in the garage as he built things. And Dimitri would have taught him how to fight.

Eddie would have gotten along with Natalie, found her hilarious, and probably fallen a little bit in love with Lissa. Adrian, Mason, Andre, and Jesse…he would have fitted right in. He would have already told the truth about Natasha. He would make sure it was known that she knew about us and lied.

It should be him standing here and not me.

Eddie should have gotten the chance.

But he didn't.

I trudge back to bed, and I need to stop thinking but I can't. I can't stop thinking about him being here instead of me or if it could have been both of us here because Victor came earlier. Maybe he would have if Natasha had told the truth sooner.

I snatch the pillow and press it to my face to muffle my screams

The knocking comes again, minutes or hours later, I'm not sure.

"Roza, please let me in."

I want to but I can't.

My fingers pressed into the brown carpet, tracing the hole I made with Alec's stake. You can't see it unless you push the fibers away from it but it's there.

He sighs and there's a soft thud, he's sat down on the other side of the door.

"You need to eat something. Even if you just take this bottle of water." He waits. "Maybe you're asleep, I hope you are…but I know you. I know you need your space, I know you don't like to be seen as vulnerable but if you need me I'm right here. If you need anything I'm right here."

I picture him sitting out there, long legs stretched out across the landing, listening, waiting for me to say something.

My nail catches on the underlining of the carpet. Alec might not have attacked Eddie like that, maybe, but wouldn't have crawled under the bed to hide. Eddie would have called his mother every day.

"I love you."

I remember how he'd looked at me in the car. Like he was devastated. I want to crawl into his lap. I want to hit something and not stop. I never want to leave this room. We sit there in silence until a door opens and closes somewhere else in the house. I hear the brush of his boots on the carpet as he stands.

"I'm going to leave a tray outside your door. Please eat."

A moment later there's a low murmur from beyond Dimitri, someone on the stairs or further down the landing. I hear his footsteps move away and his door close.

I watch the shadows move around the room, the sun changing the patterns on the walls and carpet.

A tapping, a pointed kind of tapping not made by knuckles, sounds on the door. For a minute I think I'm imagining it.

"That." A sardonic voice says and emphasizes with a tap. "Is the sound of a screwdriver because if you don't open the door, I'm going to take it off its hinges."

If it were anyone else, I wouldn't believe them.

"I'll start counting down, Rose."

I sigh and heave myself onto my feet, pins, and needles shooting down my leg. I limp to the door and gather whatever strength I have for this. I suppose it was a miracle they'd left me alone for this long.

I unlatch the door and walk away from it to drop onto the bed as Spiridon slips in.

"Just you?" My lips had sealed together and feeling them pry apart is a weird sensation.

"Not the reaction I usually get." He retorts, flipping the tool he threatened to use in hand.

"It's very early or very late, depending on how you look at it, but I thought you being awake would be 50/50."

My head feels stuffed with cotton. "I thought maybe the other two were getting impatient and you decided to do something about it."

"That's me, taking action instead of sitting around fretting and wringing my handkerchief."

I have no idea what that means so I let the silence speak for me. He sighs and sits himself down on the end of my bed, it's weird enough to make me feel a little more alert.

"Is this the part where you yell at me?" I ask, watching him flip the screwdriver between his fingers.

He cocks his head. "Do I normally yell at you?"

I shrug. "You may as well…you tell me when I'm stupid or selfish anyway."

"Funny how you chose 'yell' though."

I don't see what's so funny about it but then again, maybe I wouldn't.

Stupid little bitch.

"You haven't done anything wrong." He says quietly and I squint at him. Maybe I am still asleep.

It's then I realize, in the bluish light, his face is bruised and his lip split.

"What happened to your face?"

He grins, eyes trained on the window. "Some people have a different outlet than shutting themselves up in their rooms like a vampire stereotype."

I stare at him until he looks at me. "Dimitri or Ben? Or both?"

"Now that's insulting. Ben couldn't land a hit to my face on my worst day and his best."

I sigh. "Why were you and Dimitri fighting?"

"We weren't. Like I said, outlet. Nothing better than a good sparring session. To be honest I was starting to worry he didn't have it in him anymore but then a tree was getting the brunt of it…at least I can offer a challenge."

I have to work to hold onto what he's said, pry the meaning from it. "Dimitri was hitting a tree?"

He hums. "When you came back I could see it working on him. We almost got it into before he left. It might have done him some good but then again, you probably would have taken it worse with him all roughed up."

Taken it worse.

My mother was kidnapped by a snake, a snake who boasted about what he'd found that they hadn't…

My stomach turns over and I wind my arms around myself.

"He's fine. Physically anyway."

"Is this why you were going to take my door off? To tell me you and Dimitri have been fighting and it's my fault."

"Fuck me, has the sun always orbited around you?"

"What do you want?" I ask, already feeling drained.

He faces the window again. It's brightening outside and the light filtering makes his eyes reflect silver.

The silence goes on and my irritation builds with it. I want to be alone. I want to be in the dark and for it to be quiet. I had at least one more day before I had to pack a bag and plaster a smile on my face when I'd be forced to be around people and not look like everything inside me was withering away.

I'm about to make him go away when he opens his mouth.

"You know I'm not from Russia, right?" My confusion must be obvious because he smiles a little and that throws me off further. "I was born in Greece, on an island called Corfu. My mother was originally from there but after The Fall she took a private contract that would move her back there. It's a Royal playground, human and Moroi alike, and that as well as the warm climate makes it one of the safest places in the world. It made sense then for her to start her family without having to sacrifice her career."

I haven't a clue where this has come from or why, but I do know it's important not to say anything. He keeps his eyes down on the screwdriver rotating between his fingers. I wait and don't dare to breathe too loudly.

"She was one of the best Guardian's that ever lived. When the Monarchy fell she saved a lot of lives and stayed long enough to help things stabilize. That's how she met the man that sired me. He wasn't that bad compared to some – I was collateral in the relationship. He did love her, in his way, and bought a house on the island where we stayed and he could visit."

The screwdriver rotates between his fingers as he recalls his past.

"I had a good childhood, I didn't know it then but when does a child know that life can be different? I remember the beaches and collecting shells. I remember a tradition of smashing pots in the street at Easter and everything I remember she was always there, somehow. Working full time but still being a full-time mother. She didn't hand me over to a school to be raised. I didn't know that was a thing until I was a teenager but I remember my father saying something about it, that she was a typical Greek mother and I remember thinking then that he didn't deserve her."

The tool stops rotating and he presses his finger to the pointed metal tip.

"We stayed in Corfu until I was five and he convinced her to come back to court, told her that her career would stagnate and the opportunities she wanted for me would dwindle… but it was probably so he wouldn't have to travel. He wanted her closer because he was making strides in the political fallout and taking time out wasn't ideal for him. But he was right, she did achieve far more being there instead of in Greece."

He sighs and looks out the window.

"The dust had settled after The Fall but things were still chaotic, especially with the instatement of The Coalition, not that I cared about any of that or knew what was going on. I got to train properly in a bigger school and I felt that spark, that feeling of knowing your purpose. I got to see how other Guardian's looked to my mother for orders. I recognized the Moroi relax when she was around and speak to her with respect. I wanted that. I wanted to be admired and I wanted her to be proud of me for it. My father started to take more of an interest in me then too and how it would be an opportunity to build a 'legacy'. Moroi aren't ashamed of legacy's."

He smiles bitterly with his eyes ignited silver in the morning light and it hit me then that I had known next to nothing about Spiridon, only what Ben and Dimitri had told me, their version of him.

When he speaks his voice has dropped lower. "When Dhampir women in service are pregnant, they don't get to take maternity leave as humans do. 'Maternity leave' means they take time off before their due date to relax and prepare. Dhampir's get a week beginning the day the labor starts and then they are expected back to work on day eight unless they have some more leave days stored up. My mother didn't have any days left when she was eight months pregnant. She'd used them all to spend time with me or be doing something for me and my future. Like, we'd traveled back to Corfu for a few days and spent time reviewing the Academy options. She didn't like the idea of sending me away but with the whole legacy argument and my own advocacy of wanting to live up to our name, she came around."

The silence is longer this time, and my breathing thins, slows, worried if he does hear any sound, he'll immediately become prickly. Spiridon's fingertip is turning red with the pressure from the metal point, close to breaking the skin but it seems to be keeping him steady.

Whatever he's building to is important to him, so important and I can't understand why he's telling me.

"She was eight months pregnant and on duty when Court was attacked. A small nest but they'd slipped by on a thinner patrol near dawn. She was tired and slower, obviously, and I've come to terms with the idea that she knew what she was doing."

The screwdriver trembles with the pressure he's using and I wait for it to break skin.

"I always imagine attacks or battles to start with screaming, not with silence, not with them creeping up on you and stealing a few minutes you need to think or make a plan. I always thought there would be time for strategy, I don't know why. I was sparring with an older boy when she charged in and gave us one order, 'Run'. I never disobeyed her, I don't even think I thought about it, I just did. I didn't realize she'd stopped running with us until she screamed."

Spiridon's eyes gleam in his stark face. Tears drip off my chin and I'm scared to breathe, to interrupt.

"She'd fallen back to give us a chance and even when they overwhelmed her, she still shouted for us to run. I didn't even realize she was shouting in Greek until later."

He swallows and finally removes his finger from the drive tip. An angry purple dent from where the blunt sphere burrowed against his skin, trying to break it. It's silent for a minute and I can't help but admire how held together he is, it's clear he's in pain, it shines so clearly in his eyes, but his jaw and shoulders are relaxed, wrists resting on his knees but it's not real. It's like he's trained himself to react like this as if he's replayed that night repeatedly over years to be familiar with the pain.

"She died exactly how she lived, protecting other people, everyone else first. It had been an argument time and time again about her using hours, that she should have saved so she could be off duty, instead of wasting them with me. But my mother was a force to be reckoned with and no amount of arguing with her would change her mind. She could do both so she would do both. That's what she told him. I was so smug about that... her choosing me.

He takes a deep breath and exhales heavily, the noise breaking the delicate atmosphere he'd created. I wipe my chin and my cheeks. He glances at me, takes in my reaction, more curious than anything.

"I'm sorry."

He nods as if he expected as much, not surprised or moved by it and why would he be? What did it matter how sorry I was for his pain, her his mothers, for…for a child that hadn't been given a chance?

Now he's turned away from the light the silver is gone and replaced by grey quartz. I can't help but wonder what his mother looked like, did he look like her or did he look like his father? Do I look like mine?

"Do you know why I'm telling you this?"

I shake my head, pulling away from thoughts of faceless people I'll never know.

"I know what it's like to feel responsible for losing someone, even though logically there is nothing you could have done. Not to save them, not to deter it because you can't change their nature or the nature of those responsible. Because those men, I won't give them the honor of calling them Guardians, they are made of the same stuff as the creatures that killed my mother and tore out my sister. I know what it's like for that anger to eat you alive, to need something to make it right but there isn't a thing in this world that will. The pain of it doesn't go away but you learn how to carry it because you don't have any other choice."

I drop his gaze, teeth grinding together. "You're telling me to get over it."

The grey is like flint, like stone, beaten down over the years but never broken, only strong. "I'm telling you because what you do next is how you honor them, how to make their death matter."

It bursts out of me in a torrent. "Eddie didn't matter to them, to anyone, only me and his mom who couldn't take it and –"

"Listen." He commands somehow sounding calm but leaving no room for argument. "They mattered to you so make it count. Can you tell me that getting out of that place and everything since wouldn't have been something that boy wouldn't have wanted?

Splinters burrow deeper into my heart. "It's everything he would have wanted."

If I was away from here…

Spiridon nods once. "So, make it count. Don't lock yourself away in a room forever, swapping one cage for another – only you choosing it is worse. My mother died and within a week I was reaching out to any Royal I could, trying to persuade them to sponsor me to go to St. Basil's. It's the best Academy in the world, known for producing the best Guardians. She'd trained there but I had never cared as much before, I would have her to mentor me in the summer and I could go to a decent enough school the rest of the time – the easiest, lazier, route to being great. Then she died and my father hasn't spoken to me since, so he was no help. It was by chance I met Victor and Selene, his wife, and I was enrolled for St. Basils that fall."

The vague picture I'd had of Spiridon and Dimitri in school, hating each other, shifts. Spiridon had moved across the world having lost his mother, relying on the goodness of the same man I did, with only one thing left to him – to become the best. But there he met Dimitri, who was better and had always remained slightly ahead and I can understand now why Spiridon would have hated him. Dimitri stood in the way of him making it count.

"I got myself here and I'll get myself further by getting Victor where he wants to be. I'll earn the Vitejie Medalie and be noted in history as instrumental for re-establishing – for helping accomplish big things. "

For making Victor king. That's what he stopped himself from saying.

"It's different, we're different, you can make count in all these big ways and I…" I feel emotions rising in my throat again and look down at the comforter, focusing on the pattern. "I can't do anything. Lissa and I looked at all my options and to even be a cleaner I'll need to do tests and pass them."

"And you're getting a tutor next month, so what's the problem? Because it'll be hard? You know hard. And for fucks sake, aim higher than being a cleaner."

"Aim for what?"

He shrugs. "Does it need to be figured out right away? Rose, you have the luxury of being able to decide. You also have the luxury of private sessions with three high qualified Guardians. Use everything you have while you can, seize every opportunity. Be selfish and put yourself first, go after what you and don't cower or back down."

I let myself voice the desire born from ancient anger, from blood, sweat, and tears, the violent wish that had been barred behind the door. "I want them to pay for everything they did. I want it to hurt. The Ozeras…Zmey."

"It's not that simple."

I glare at him. "Because Victor needs what he needs first. Because you need to be the one to get him there. What does it matter that they kill a few more people in the meantime?"

His level look doesn't change and it pisses me off more. "Revenge is best served up ice-cold for a reason. The Strigoi that killed my mother and my sister, they're in Nathans inner circle and I am still waiting to get my shot. In theory, I could set off tomorrow but..." He trails off looking thoughtful and changes course. "You want to make them pay? Then don't stop making progress. Train, do what you're paid to, study and then cry in your free time – repeat." He stands up as the thorns twine around my veins and threatens to break skin. "

"Dimitri told me that Zmey gave him a number for me to call. That he said he wouldn't hurt her. What do you think?"

Spiridon looks at me, not with pity but with cool consideration, and until now I've never been grateful for that look. "I think he got the leverage he originally wanted. I think he has someone with years of insight to a Royal, a pathetic and vile one, but one nonetheless. I think your mother is likely an addict to the bite and could be easily manipulated into providing information and I think, the fact she is your mother makes Zmey think he is in a position to hold that over Victor. For those reasons, no, I don't think he'll hurt her."

The breath I let out makes me slump.

"Belikov was right though, we should never have left them behind."

"Because they could know things men could use." I say bitterly.

"Yes." He admits. "And other reasons."

I trace the pattern on the covers. Last night I'd been so cruelly aware that they don't smell like Dimitri anymore even though they hadn't for days.

Spiridon's voice drops into that reserved tone he'd used when talking about his mother. "Your friend died, and you couldn't stop it, you didn't know how and if you had been able to fight back it wouldn't have made a difference. You've been attacked here, Estonia, and you couldn't defend yourself. If we found your mother's location you'd stay here because you can't do anything." Each truth salt on a wound and I clench my teeth. "That's how they wanted you to stay, submissive and terrified. Turn up tomorrow just to say fuck them."

I tilt my head back and meet his eye.

I nod.

"Good." He flips the screwdriver in his hand. "Otherwise, I would have taken the door off. I've done it to Natalie."

He crosses the room and has his hand on the handle when I ask, "What was her name? Your mother."

He doesn't turn back. "Elena. Elena Aetou. Mine is pronounced 'Aetos'."

"Your second name is Aetos? I've never heard anyone use it."

It's quiet for a moment and then he says, "I haven't earned it yet."

He pulls open the door and as he slips back into the hall his voice carries back on a low breath. "We'd picked Calliope for my sister."

I pushed the blinds wide open. The winter sun is harsh and bright, reflecting the snow off the ground and lake almost blindingly. I don't want to sleep. I want to think and relive and purge out the pain. It has to ease at some point, even a fraction. Some of the black must return to the pit instead of weighing down around my shoulders and pressing on my skull.

I don't want to sleep, I'm afraid to. I dig out the book Dimitri had given me for Christmas and find 'Athens, Greece' on page 156. It's not the place Spiridon had said but i I pretend it's close. Ancient stone and blue sky, beautiful, so different to everything and still there was death.

Terrible, brutal, and merciless death.

A baby.

A blonde woman with a round belly and my mother's determined expression...

I'm back in Arizona.

"They tore out my sister." Spiridon says from somewhere, but I can't find him.

Someone is screaming in the orchard, but I know better than to go and look. I know better than thinking I can help.

He wants me instead of my mother and I'm tumbling down dark, black and white hallways, into that room with the thick carpets and the biggest bed I've seen in my life. And then I'm pregnant under the glaring sun, my shirt straining against it and knowing there's no way out, and I'm never going to be able to protect a baby. I hate the part of myself that hates it.

Eddie's voice echoes around me, "If I was away from here…"

I jerk awake, sweating and gasping from where I'd fallen asleep on the floor. My nails dig into the carpet, not dry dirt, and I take in the room around me.

Then I cry until my head hurts.

Stupid.

Stupid little bitch.

I'm not there and that's not going to happen to me.

I stumble to the bathroom and wash my face with cold water, trying to clean away the thoughts.

The Arizona sun flashes across my neck. Leather and metal striking my skin, breaking it open.

I am here, not there, and they cannot touch me.

If they tried, I could fight back. Jab, cross, hook, and uppercut hit, Spiridon had shown me how. Then he'd showed me how to block them. I knew how to do it.

But right now my arms feel useless. Dead weights at my sides.

Stupid body.

I drink from the tap and dry my face. I set out clothes for tomorrow because I would go outside with Spiridon. I would try. I had to try.

Zmey has my mother and thinks he can use her against Victor, and I hadn't listened to him when I came back. Couldn't hear anything he said to me, didn't want to hear whatever he was saying with that fake expression like the whole thing pained him.

I need to stop thinking. I need to sleep so I might be of some use tomorrow.

I lie down but more thoughts invade, their talons scratching over my brain ready to push inside and break me down. I throw myself out of bed and unlatch the lock.

It's early afternoon and the house is silent. With a shaking hand, I turn the door handle to his room and try to keep my breathing even.

Dimitri's not in bed but slumped over his desk. I stand there like a stranger until I swallow and close the door behind me.

I wipe my face and creep closer, trying to keep my breathing quiet and ignore the urge to run back out.

He's fallen asleep on top of papers and my breath catches in my throat when I see a name printed at the top.

Janine Hathaway

He said he wouldn't look at her file. He told me it was only for me to see. I creep closer and try to make sense of the words but it's a puzzle that only becomes stranger.

Born in Glasgow, Princess royal maternity hospital.

Attended Cairngorms Academy (since destroyed).

No living relatives. Mother died in childbirth and babe was inducted to the care of the 'Scottish widows and children's aid foundation' that gave full custody to 'Cairngorms Academy' when the child (Janine Hathaway) was six weeks old.

I keep reading, falling down the lines. The bottom of the page is covered by his hand, the skin more broken and bruised than it had been before. He mutters in his sleep as my fingers lightly trace over cuts and tears, before gently lifting it and moving it aside.

I read it and then I read it again, the noise in my head quietening.

Dimitri stirs in his sleep, but my eyes don't leave the bold black letters depicting a woman I don't know. It's laughing at me, knowing more than I do, knowing more than I've ever known about her.

"Roza."

Excelled in theory and applied combat. Excelled in academic and extra-curricular activities but had trouble with discipline and faced expulsion twice (reasons unknown).

He sits up and out of the corner of my eye, I see him flinch and reach for his neck.

Only when his fingers graze my wrist can I tear my eyes away. They meet his and I flinch at what I find there, an echo of everything scoring and carving itself into my being.

"What is this?" I ask, barely a whisper.

His fingers remain on my wrist, not holding it but pressing there. The warmth from the calloused tips is comforting.

"We've been trying to find answers. Ben and I. To find out what happened to her and why. How it might have happened."

"Why?"

He swallows, fingers curling gently. "Because I wanted to be able to give you that. I wanted to find out who might be responsible, who played a part in taking so much from you both, and if there was anyone out there missing her. Who might have been looking for her."

The silence blares around us containing all the things that happened in the last two days, the things he'd learned from Zmey, how I'd reacted when he'd told me, what's happened in the time I locked myself away, and pages of my mother's past, a mother I hadn't known – it all demands to be acknowledged.

But I'm so tired and feel almost the same vulnerability I had after Alec. I'm an exposed nerve, angry, raw, and I need it to stop for a little while. Crawling under the bed wouldn't help me this time.

My hand turns against his, fingertips brushing his palm. "Will you come to bed?"

He searches my face, and I can't hide any of what I'm feeling. I don't want to, not with him, even if it does make me a burden. But his fingers close around mine, emotion warring under the half-mask he wears.

"If you'll have me."

He stands, my fingers sinking in between his and some of that dark weight around my head eases. He tidies the documents up and slips the thin file under his laptop. It's an unsaid thing that we're going to my room. When I open his door, I make to drop his hand on reflex but his hold tightens. I don't fight it.

He lets go when my bedroom door is locked, moving to the window to close the blinds and the curtains. I pick the pillows up from the floor. I'm still in the clothes I wore to Lissa's house.

Without a word, he moves to my drawers and pulls out a set of pajamas. I start peeling off my clothes and he maneuvers the fresh garments on. My gaze snags on his hands, on the cuts and bruises.

He catches me looking. "It's fine, Roza. It's nothing."

"Spiridon said you needed an outlet." He pulls my hair out from the collar. "You broke the dash screen because of Zmey. Did you do that because of me? Because I…because I hit you?"

I take a sharp breath and he tilts my face up. "Don't feel guilty about that, understand? You do not waste a second more on that."

"I shouldn't have done it. I didn't mean to –"

"I know. I know that." He kisses my forehead and I lean into it. "I shouldn't have pushed. I shouldn't have done that to you. I am…sorry seems an insignificant word for what I am."

A shudder goes through my bones at the tone of his voice, the way he'd looked at me in the car flashing through my mind and making me afraid to see his face now. If he would reveal completely what was under the mask.

"I don't want to talk about it." I exhale. "I just want to sleep."

He takes a long, deep breath, "Then let's get into bed."

We slip in between the covers and I tuck myself into his shoulder. He strokes my head, traces light circles on my spine and the weight of the black somehow eases, letting the lull of sleep tug at me. I jerk against it suddenly fearful of what might be waiting, who might be waiting.

"I'm here. I have you. You're safe."

The ebb and flow of the hushed tide tugs at me.

"I have you."

It drags me away.

I wake in the exact same place I'd fallen asleep, inhaling the faint smell of citrus. For a split second everything is okay, perfect almost until I realize it's my alarm making the noise – then I remember why and all the other shit starts falling around me.

Dimitri grunts above my head and I peel myself away and snatch my phone from the nightstand.

4:15 pm

We'd only slept for four hours but my head feels clearer, quieter. Getting dressed, leaving the room, and facing everyone in the house won't cripple me.

Dimitri murmurs in Russian, voice thick with sleep.

"I'm training with Spiridon this morning." I tell him, getting up and collecting the pile of clothes I left out.

The covers rustle. "Training?"

"Yeah. I spoke to him yesterday. He threatened to remove my door if I didn't open it."

"You spoke with Spiridon yesterday?"

I don't miss the accusation under his tone, hurt not angry.

"That's what I said."

With my back to him, I yank my top over my head and wrestle on my sports bra. I can feel him watching me and I should probably say something else, explain a little more but instead, I stalk into the bathroom and close the door.

When I emerge fully dressed and face washed, still looking like crap, he's sitting on the edge of the bed waiting. He looks how I feel, and I hate that.

"He threatened to take off my door." I repeat quietly. "And then he made the point of, if I stay in here then they win. I…would go back to being little and afraid, not able to do anything helpful. So even though I'd rather keep my door locked all day or go back to sleep with you – I can't."

I hold my breath, worried he'll ask me things I'm not ready to, but he stands and goes to my drawers, pulling out another pair of socks.

"Double up, your trainers aren't waterproof." He walks over and holds them out to me. "And remember, he shifts onto his right foot-"

"When he's about to go on the offensive." I finish, taking the socks from him. I lean back to meet his eyes and for more reasons than just footwear and advice I say, "Thank you."

His mask is secured but those dark eyes are brimming with unsaid things. He cups my cheek, thumb sweeping my cheekbone and I turn my lips to his palm.

"You're welcome. Now go. I'll be down soon." He says and I move to the door with him shadowing, listening. "And eat something first."

I feel his eyes follow my every step until I turn into the kitchen.

Spiridon's already there and barely glances up from his phone as I come in.

"Protein shake and pre-workout." He says, referring to the two filled glasses on the counter. "Get the shake into you first."

"You're in danger of making me think you like me." He looks up at that and I force a smile. "Making me breakfast and all."

"You're in danger of that." He says deadpan. "I don't need you spewing bile or passing out on me. Hurry up and get it down your throat."

Outside we warm up in silence and then fall into the pattern of running through various moves, breaking them down before applying them all together. First, I'm on the defensive, slowly, then applied until he asks if I'm ready. I'm not but nod anyway.

Spiridon moves like lightning, striking fast and with force. I go sprawling into the snow.

I'm up before he can order it and get back into position. The same thing happens twice more. The last time I nearly feint out of reach but not quite.

I get back up and rotate my shoulder where his fist had tried to go through it.

"Do we need to slow things back down?"

Not mocking. Not taunting. Just blunt.

"No."

We stay at it longer than the allotted time he usually gives me. We keep going through it, switching offensive and defensive positions. Something happens when I switch to the latter, a shift, all the black becoming a roiling and burning creature inside me. My mind becomes quiet, dialed into only Spiridon – how and where he moves. And when he knocks me down or uses the force of my blow to throw me past him, it intensifies, builds, not hindered by frustration at failing.

"Bring your feet with you when you lunge, stop leaving your stomach exposed to be gutted."

I absorb it all. The anger feeding off it, storing it away.

I don't notice that Ben and Dimitri have come out until Spiridon calls for a toilet break. I snatch up the remainder of the pre-workout and drain it. It's sharp and gritty, and causes pins and needles to thrum under my skin, itching my palms… making me feel like I could run over the lake instead of around it.

I sink back into my starting position, arms up, knees bent.

"You want some water, kid?" Ben asks.

"No."

I throw out my arms in the 1-2 motion Spiridon had been trying to teach me. I needed my form smooth, my whole body striking forward and back and not throwing myself off balance. Ben steps in front of me and holds up his palms. I don't hesitate in throwing my fists into them. My knuckles meet the resistance, and it sends fury scurrying up my spine.

I keep going, ignoring what he's saying. Faster, harder, beating into the meat of his hands trying to breakthrough.

Ben sidesteps and it throws me off completely.

"What the hell?" I snap.

He shakes out his hand. "I told you to take it easy. You were locked on."

"Isn't that the point?"

"You were going to hurt yourself, your hands aren't wrapped for impact like that."

I look down at the back of my hands and the glare back, bright pink and shaking.

Grant hadn't been wearing gloves.

"Rose." Ben says softly. "Take a break, get some water."

My hands curl back into fists, my knuckles white and angry.

"Get away from my novice before you teach her bad habits." Spiridon calls.

"Her hands should be wrapped if she's going to spar against blunt contact."

"Well, she wasn't, so they aren't. Go back to your push-ups Benjamin, you'll manage thirty any day now."

"We aren't in St. Basil's now where everything needed to be paid for in blood. Wrap her fucking hands."

Spiridon flashes his teeth. "I'll wrap my hands around your throat in a minute."

"Buy me dinner first." Ben returns with malice, and I step away.

"Rose." Dimitri's voice cuts through their argument. "We're running."

I don't argue. Dimitri bites out in Russian at them and I glance back to see Ben flinch at it. I don't wait for him and take off into the woods, the pre-workout biting under my skin and the anger thrumming in my bones. Dimitri catches up and we run in silence. He doesn't call time for an off period and all there is the pounding of my feet on the path and the icy air passing through my lungs. We make it back to the green and without a word, I veer back over to where Spiridon waits.

"How are your hands?"

"Fine." I say, my heart beating in my ears.

"Good. We aren't wrapping them because this isn't sport."

"I know that."

None of them had ever worn gloves when hitting us.

He nods sharply. "And it isn't for the field either. You're learning this to hold your own and then to get away, do you understand?"

"What if I don't want to get away? What if I want to keep hitting?"

He stares back at me, flint sharp eyes cutting. "You get away Rose or someone will die trying to save you." I have the sensation of rocking backward, but I haven't moved. "You create an opening and run the first chance you get. It'll be years before you can keep hitting and walk away."

The rage quakes in my bones, in my core, in my head and I let it show. Spiridon smiles slowly and it's terrifying.

I shift onto my right foot, my hips twisting with it, and I see Spiridon note it and immediately react. He thinks I'm going to punch with my left, so it takes him completely by surprise when my right fist strikes out in sloppy hook and crashes into the side of his face.

Something cracks in my hand and I stumble, nearly going on my ass. But I'd done it. Form incorrect, hand busted but I'd done it.

Spiridon blinks at me.

I make myself grin but it feels more like I'm pulling my lips back over my teeth like an animal. "I'm getting some water and when I come back we're going through kicks."

I turn on my heel and stalk off across the green toward the backdoor, ignoring Ben and Dimitri staring at me.

I train for hours. Until my hoodie is soaked through with sweat, the pre-workout is worn out of my system, and my whole body trembles from standing. Spiridon hadn't said a word about punching him or punished me, in his way, for it. He hadn't complained about taking him over his two-hour limit but simply ended the lesson with 'good'. And then I moved on to conditioning Dimitri. It wasn't long but it was brutal.

"Five minutes on. Two minutes off." He instructs after I drag myself off the ground. I look at the trail opening and gather what energy I have left to me. "Until failure."

Because that is trying.

Again, I don't wait for him to start – I just run.

Victor had slept in or only gotten up to move to his office, I wasn't sure, and it didn't matter, my job was clear. Cook.

I drain two bottles of water in the kitchen, drag off my hoodie and wash my hands and forearms. I make the house brunch and in the time it takes to do it I've cooled down enough to take a shower. Ben had hovered around in an attempt to lend a hand or attempt to talk to me, he didn't accomplish either, but it didn't annoy me.

"I'm fine and I don't want to talk about it." I murmur to him, handing him two plates, one to take to Victor. I didn't look presentable, and I didn't want to see him, not yet.

Ben nods. "If you do, if you need anything, you know you can ask. If you need to get out of here for a while we can."

My instinct is to try and brush it away as quickly as possible, get away from the scrutiny but I make myself breathe through that. It's Ben. And I will not go back to who I was, I will not fold in.

"I know that. I know you want to help but…maybe later we could go on a walk? I feel like, I need to keep moving or doing something."

The relief that passes over his face tugs at my heart. "Yeah, sure. Cool. And uh, just to keep you in the loop Natalie's coming home tomorrow."

I inhale deeply. "Alright."

He looks like he wants to say more but Spiridon glides in, lured by the smell of food.

"Well, he must be teaching you something right." Ben says, striding toward the stairs.

"Seeing he's wearing the proof of it."

"Oh please, she just polished up what Belikov already left."

"You realize you're discrediting yourself?"

Spiridon snots. "Hardly."

I offer Spiridon his plate but hold on when he tries to take it. "Thank you, for teaching me."

And for last night.

His hair's wet from his shower, starting to become fluffy but his grey eyes remain hard as slate. "Sucker punch me again and you'll wake up in the lake."

"Duck next time."

Ben chuckles and I grab my plate and make to follow him up the stairs.

My thighs are burning, calves tight and my shoulders stiff. I was going to be in so much pain later.

Dimitri's door is open, and I can hear him talking on the phone. I won't think about who it could be and close mine with a firm bang. I lock it, eat without tasting anything, shower, stretch and throw on some clothes to do the chores in.

I had to stay busy. If I stand still for long enough the black will seize its chance – it almost had in the shower. I'd made myself recite every beauty tip Natalie had ever told me and applied it.

I still feel hollow but it's not as bad as it was yesterday when I'd cooped myself up. When I'd been so far inside my mind I felt like I was losing it.

I clean the house from top to bottom. I strip beds and collect washing. I clean the floors, stairs, and windows. I snap on some gloves and clean the ensuites, all but Dimitri's – I was desperate for things to do but arguing about rights to clean his room wasn't one of them. It doesn't take as long as I'd hoped, and I debate taking the Christmas decorations down. We were leaving after all and not coming back until January.

Instead, I turn off everything and switch on the fairy lights. The effect on the shattered glass wall is haunting but still beautiful. Broken but still able to hold onto the good.

"Do you remember how I told you it was infused with earth?" Dimitri says quietly from behind me.

"Yes."

"He wanted to demonstrate his strength." I don't have to ask who he is. "How he's willing to wage his element."

I turn around and find him leaning on the newel post watching me.

"You give me a big enough rock and I could have done that. If I was throwing a tantrum." He humors me a small quirk of his lips. "What if it breaks when we're away?"

"Victors dealing with it."

We stare at each other, and all those unspoken things begin whispering around us.

"The car?" I ask. "Can Ben fix that?"

"He's doing it right now. I think he's glad to have something to do even though he's very angry with me."

I frown. "Why is he angry with you?"

There's a pause and the whispering gets louder, my question somehow baiting them. I can't help but let the panic show on my face. He pushes off the post, eyes intent on my face, and my stomach sinks.

"We'll talk about it later." He murmurs.

Because there's no preventing it, only delaying it. We would have to talk about this, and it would break me apart all over again. He lifts a hand toward me and all I want is to take it or be folded in by him, crushed to him but if that happens…

I step out of reach. "Do you want to help me bake? I owe Spiridon a cake."

I don't wait for him to answer and bolt into the kitchen. I open cupboards at random, lift out the things I need by chance, and then move to the fridge. I shove my selves up and flick through the recipe book, even though I know it, but I just can't seem to pull it out of my stupid head.

His fingers curl around my wrist and I jump.

"You're going to rip the pages." He says softly. "Let me."

I nod and rip away to lift out the bowls and other utensils, some we don't even need but I just need to be in motion. We work in silence for a little while until I can't stand it and put on some music. When it comes to beating the ingredients together all the muscles in my arms scream in protest but I make myself do it until I'm panting and the damn mix still hasn't binded properly.

A bottle of water and granola bar appear on the counter and the heat of his chest presses against my back. Wordlessly he takes over and I sigh in defeat, pulling the snack toward me.

I stay within the bracket of his arms as I chew and he mixes, the silence and minimal contact between us making the comfort possible. It hits me then that he understands completely that I need this, the boundaries without the distance, even though it's hard for him.

"Thank you." I say quietly as he pulls the baking tin over to pour in the mix.

"You're welcome." His hand coasts over my waist as he steps away. "Why are we making Spiridon cake may I ask? For punching him earlier?"

My lips twitch. "No, um, I said I would at Thanksgiving and haven't had the time. I owe myself a cake for punching him."

"Yes, you do. I could make you one." He grins.

"Honey cake? Ben said it's the favorited dessert in Russia." I peek up at him. "I was going to make that for you. After I won our bet."

He raises an eyebrow, playing along. "Oh? Is your demand that egregious I'll need sweets to soften the blow?"

I force a smile, to be honest, I hadn't decided what to ask for if I won. "Is yours?"

He gives me a secretive look and despite everything, my stomach flips and then is flooded by guilt.

Dimitri notices the shift because he notices everything. "Would you feel up to doing it tomorrow before we leave or when we come back?"

I take a deep breath. "Tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"If I wasn't I wouldn't have said tomorrow." I pull the blender toward me and pour in the sugar. "Tomorrow."

"Alright but you trained hard today so eat and stretch properly. Sleep."

"Can you help me with the last one?"

"Always."

My fingers tighten on the blender as emotion bursts through my chest like an overflowing dam. His mask slips and I can't stand it.

"Roza -"

"Don't. Please, don't. I need to be distracted. Please."

He comes around the island and the plastic under my hands might shatter but then he's adding the lemon juice, talking to me about his grandmother and how he accidentally set a pan on fire trying to make caramel. He tells me when Paul was born he requested all his leave, five days, to make it home to see him. With travel, he only got to stay for three but after eight months in the red zones, it was perfect.

I can't help but think of Spiridon and the sister he didn't get to meet.

"Did you hate it? The red zones?"

He grows thoughtful. We hadn't ever talked about them in-depth, just about where they were and things he'd learned. Surface things.

"Yes and no. No, because it exposed me to a lot and made me a better warrior. The things I had seen there, fought, and survived – it closed the gap between hesitating and acting. It made our fight for survival a reality to me and not metrics."

"I'm trying to imagine what your day would look like. Were you in out trying to clear out, what are they called, nests?"

"Sometimes. That and running patrols in the mountains, staying in the bigger cities or towns from time to time where snatching had spiked."

It probably didn't warrant asking but I do anyway, "And why yes?"

He stirs the drizzle mix and adds speckles of the lemon rind.

His voice is low, reserved. "I don't think my answer is going to help be distracting."

Oh.

I blurt out the first thing I can think of. "I didn't know Spiridon was from Greece. He doesn't sound much different to Ben or Victor. But then I don't sound like I'm from a place, do I? I say things like – like my mom sometimes. When she's mad her accent changed."

I'd tried for a new topic and somehow it had looped right back to territory I didn't want to be in. Maybe it was worth treading lightly and not venturing too deeply.

The black broils at the edges, waiting to drown me and I glare at it.

"Did he tell you that last night?" He asks casually there's a weight to it. It bothers him that I let Spiridon in and not him.

"Yeah, he did. I didn't know his last name either which is weird."

"Aetos. He doesn't like to be addressed by it if he can avoid it. That's another reason that Victor's seen as strange, he would introduce him by his first name where he can."

I haven't earned it yet.

I glance at Dimitri for some indication that he knows why but he's not giving anything away. If Aetos was a well-known name he would have to know, wouldn't he? And if he does then he's choosing not to talk about something Spiridon considers private.

Somehow, it makes me love him even more.

He notices me staring at him, "What?"

"Where's Ben from?"

"England. St. Basil's is highest acclaimed for turning out elite Guardian's so novices from all over go there. Well, if they have the funding. Those lucky enough to be born in Russia, me, are prioritized to enroll." Victor had gotten Spiridon there and now Spiridon works for him. "There are other requirements besides money to be considered for outsiders. Being fluent in Russian is a must. Spiridon speaks Greek, Estonian, German, English, and Russian."

"Then why do they ask you to translate Russian for them? If they already know it?"

"Because there's a difference in being raised in the language and being taught it as your second or third. Knowing the intent, the inflection, and how a different phrasing can change the subject matter."

"So, Spiridon's mother language is Greek, yours is Russian and Ben's is English?"

"Yes." He checks on the cake and pulls it from the oven.

"Do you…do you miss speaking in Russian all the time? With people who understand it. Is it, I don't know if this is a dumb question, but is it lonely?"

He regards me as if I've asked him something interesting. "I wouldn't say lonely but there is a feeling of being, recognized or seen in a way. When I speak to my sister it's like falling into my most natural self, I suppose. It's hard to explain. Spiridon will slip into Russian from time to time, you've heard him."

"Yeah, when he wants to bitch about my cooking without me knowing it."

Dimitri grins and I find myself smiling back. "Will you keep teaching me Russian? I'll probably never be great at it but…"

I don't need to say it aloud because I've said it so many times before – I want to know him.

"Yes because if I don't then you'll only know the lewd things Ben teaches you."

"You taught me to swear first." I pick up a knife and start poking holes into the golden roof of the cake. "Der'mo."

"I think I've taught you a lot more than that." I peek up at him from under my lashes and he points a fork at me. "In Russian."

I snicker and begin pouring the drizzle over the cake. "I'm surprised he hasn't sniffed this out already and fallen down the stairs."

Dimitri chuckles and his hand at some point has drifted onto my back, curving around my waist and I realize he'd done what I'd asked him to – distracted me. I lean into him and his arm curls around. We're teetering on the line but I need to keep the barrier up, just for a while longer. He presses a kiss to the top of my head and lingers there.

By the time we've cleaned and washed up the cake has cooled. I cut off a slab, make a coffee, carry them upstairs but on my way to Spiridon's room, I hear him laugh from inside Victor's office. I stand there debating if I should turn back around and wait downstairs until he's alone. But that's what the scared girl from the yard would have done.

I knock and the tremor in my hand is totally from my worn-out muscles.

"Come in." Victor calls and I take a deep breath.

Spiridon is sprawled out on the couch in the corner but immediately sits up when he sees what I'm carrying.

"Don't worry, it's for you." I tell him and almost laugh at his expression. "I thought you were in your room. I did say I would bake a lemon cake for you."

"Yeah, like a month ago."

"Do you want it or not?"

He snatches it from me looking delighted. Then there's no avoiding it anymore, I turn to Victor.

The Moroi watches me from behind his desk, green eyes intent on my face with mild curiosity. I'm being studied. The girl from the yard knows that much.

"Would you like me to bring you some? And an espresso?"

"Say yes, that way I know she hasn't laced it with laxatives."

"What?"

"Ignore him." Victor says tiredly. "I'd appreciate that greatly, thank you." I mean to step out of the room relieved but then he says, "You had us all worried there. I can't imagine how you must be feeling, to have something so harrowing unearthed and then the distressing news of your mother."

Every inside me has stilled. My lunges, my heart, the blood flowing around my body.

"Ben is doing everything he can to find her location. I know this isn't much of a consolation to you but I do not believe she is in any danger. She is a potential source of information and leverage for Zmey and his agenda, he won't compromise that." Victor's face is coated in sympathy as he reuses Spiridon's words to me last night. He's waiting for me to speak but my head is a silent space, my throat dry. "Dimitri informed you that he provided a telephone number to contact her and you are free to do so but be mindful of what he could gain from that. From what your mother might be compelled or instructed to tell you – I don't want to see you in any more distress. You have suffered so greatly, and it pains me that you suffer still, here, in my home that has become yours. Do not feel pressured to do anything you are not ready to."

He waits and the silence gets louder.

"I haven't…made up my mind." I force out.

He nods, pressing his lips together sadly. "Of course. How are you feeling? Did your rest do you well?"

A sharp pain shoots through the hand gripping the door handle.

"It did her wonders." Spiridon chimes in, spearing another piece of cake. "Back to training this morning and even caught me by surprise with a crafty, but sloppy, right hook. And if you couldn't tell by the insane smell of bleach – the house is sparkling."

Victor's eyes flick from Spiridon back to me, waiting for confirmation.

I nod. "Yes, I feel better."

Victor visibly relaxes and a smile blooms on his mouth as if I've unburdened him. "I'm so glad to hear that. We feared Dimitri had handled the entire thing a bit rashly. I would have liked to have spoken to you myself, reassured you instead of causing panic but nevertheless, you're okay and that's the important thing. As you can imagine it caught us all very unawares, another horrific crime committed by the Ozera's. You must know that we had no idea of the scope of how bad things were? It's not something they would ever admit to and something you had not confided."

I had not confided.

Roaring fills my ears and it's a miracle I hear what he says next.

"Is there anything else we should be aware of, Rose?" Victor asks.

"Aware of?" I repeat. "Let me think. You know that they owned slaves, you know that he raped, fed, and abused them. You know that she likes to punish them, I wasn't the first person she burned, I'm not the only one with her handprints scarred on my body. You know that…that they allowed their Guardians to torment us, starve us, taunt us, and they were allowed to rape who they wanted. That they killed… my family because he was even though by science it was their family. Because Lucas was his –" I can't say it. It's not right to call him his father, he wasn't, not by what that word means. "But you might not know that they beat me so badly that day I couldn't stand up without help. That his mother killed herself because she couldn't take it. That the only shirt I could wear after was my dead best friends. Mine had torn and was too small."

Victor's expression has frozen in place and even though my voice has held steady, quiet, cold – I'm on the verge of crying and I can't, I won't, cry in front of these two people.

Inhale. Exhale. Focus on how it feels. "Is that enough to be aware of?"

"I didn't mean to upset you." Victor says quietly, holding my eye. "I am so very deeply sorry."

"Rose." Spiridon's voice coaxes and I drag my gaze away from Victor. "That was helpful. It's good that we know everything to be able to build a solid case against them for when the time is right. We can't have a snake knowing more than we do, can we?" I shake my head and the anger that had been holding me steady begins to disintegrate. "No, we can't. So let us get back to work and take care of things. That espresso will help."

The dismissal is loud and clear. I all but throw myself into the hall and pull the door closed behind me.

Inhale. Exhale. It's all I allow myself to think about, breathing in deeply, holding and letting it out – just like he showed me.

When I feel stable enough to push off the door, I realize I'm not alone in the hall. Dimitri is still and cloaked in shadow. We move at the same time, him aiming for the door and me trying to block him. I may as well be trying to stop a car moving at full speed.

"Don't!" I whisper furiously, gripping his arm and planting my feet. "Don't."

There's no point in flattering myself by thinking he resists because of my strength but he does stop. Every muscle in his arms is rigid, straining toward Victor's door and I know every single reason I had given the Moroi is what is driving him to confront him. But to do what? To demand what a plan of action was when there very obviously isn't one.

What I said to him the car hasn't changed – Victor didn't try to rescue him, his Guardian, his asset, so there is no hope for action to be taken. It didn't fit his plans. It wasn't worth anything to him.

"There isn't any point." I pull at him, leaning my body weight away from the office.

"Isn't any point?" He repeats in a harsh whisper, turning to me and the shift of his weight means I stumble back against the wall. His face is clean-cut fury and it's terrifying. "You just gave quite a few."

He steps forward again, dragging me by default and I scramble to get in front.

"No, there isn't." I hiss. "Please don't make this worse for me." That stops him but only just. He is a storm on the edge of breaking, lightning about to flash, and thunder crack. "Please."

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and lets it out.

Deliberate footfalls sound behind me and I jump away from the door. Spiridon opens it just enough to step out so Victor doesn't have a view of the hall from behind his desk. Dimitri doesn't move and the hostility radiating off his doesn't seem to phase the blonde. He holds up two fingers and points to the stairs. For a moment I think it might trigger Dimitri into throwing him aside and storming in but instead he follows the silent order, and I follow him.

Downstairs I start making Victor's espresso for something to do.

"You need to pick your battles, Belikov." Spiridon says from behind me.

"Isn't that the battle worth fighting? Isn't that what makes this job different?"

"Okay, so what's the plan? Are we going to drag two Royals in front of The Guard, here are two slave owners but we don't have all the slaves, we don't know where they are because this vigilante mother fucker has whisked them off to rehab but oh, what we do have is this eighteen-year-old that we rescued so we could blackmail them. Also, Lucas' sister knew about it and brought it to our attention but don't prosecute her or think she is implicit in any way because we need her. Oh, and their legitimate child, can't vouch for him, not sure what he knew or didn't know so can't dissuade you from arresting him. Oh wait, look at that, we're all fucking in prison because you can't pick and choose."

"I don't think they're deserving of a system-based sentence being passed." Dimitri responds in that deathly calm voice.

"No, neither do I so that is why timing is key. And you storming into Victor's office and losing that insane temper of yours is not going to magically make things fall into place."

"We both know what he was doing in there." Dimitri says through his teeth.

"Which is why I shooed her out and then had to cover the sound of you arguing about it in the fucking hall."

The machine beeps. I have no choice but to lift the little cup and turn toward the island, where they stand on opposite sides.

Spiridon looks at me and then at Dimitri.

"You're too emotionally involved in this and that's going to cause problems." Somehow my stomach falls and keeps falling. "Your advocacy for women's aid is admirable but this isn't an opportunity for you to tackle your inherent daddy issues."

That oppressive pressure, that promise of violence, wraps around the room.

"Stop it." I let the saucer clatter on the island surface and hack off another piece of cake. "None of this is helpful. Take this up to him."

I stalk out and ignore Spiridon calling after me that training is at the same time tomorrow. In my room, I flip on the TV to fill up the silence. I stretch. I pick up and throw down a book but it's unavoidable, the thinking.

He has my mom. He has my mom and nobody knows where. All this time I didn't call her, didn't think of her, and let her just… exist. Appeased everything with the knowledge that she wasn't living the same life under the Ozera's anymore and didn't pause to think about how it could still be bad. That her day wasn't made up of anything anymore. The guilt is so crushing I have to rub my chest to reassure myself that it's intact.

A noise from outside pulls me out of the spiral. Dimitri and Spiridon are on the green sparring with long wooden poles. They move so fast the instruments are a blur, the rapid clacking of impact the only proof they wield them. I don't know how long I watch them, my breath catching as they duck, weave, and roll around each other's advance.

If I could move like that nobody would be able to stand in my way. Nobody would be able to move me out of theirs.

I needed to become that.

I watch, and they move so fast I don't see how it happens, but Spiridon is no longer armed, and the end of Dimitri's pole is under his chin. I can see his chest rising and falling rapidly but in one precise motion, he falls back.

Spiridon snatches up his weapon.

They go again. And again. And again.

It all ends the same way, Dimitri disarming him.

I could barely hold my own against Spiridon, no, I couldn't hold my own. I was only just learning too and how long will it be before I can spar like that? Without breaking it down or stopping after a few moves? How long will it be until defending myself so…naturally it's second nature?

Spiridon was right. It would take years before could be the one walking away from a fight and not fleeing it.

I couldn't wait years.

It's another hour before I peel myself away from the window and start dinner.

Ben's in the living room with a beer and trails me into the kitchen. The sound of the sparring is more audible in here. I flick on the oven and Ben leans against the sink, ready to be given orders. He cranes his head watching the other two through the window.

"Those two have issues. I know we all do but those two, issues."

"I think they secretly love each other."

I assess the options for quick and easy. Fajita's come to mind but then I can't imagine Victor eating with his hands…fuck it. I'll prepare his in a bowl with rice or something.

Ben snorts. "Ah, all these years. It's just sexual tension."

I chuckle and feel him look at me. "It's good to hear that sound again."

I dump everything onto the island and push a cutting board toward him with the veggies. "Keep being funny then."

"I'll try."

He washes up and takes to his task. I flick on some music to cancel out the sounds of two men grunting and hitting each other with sticks. We work in silence and it's comfortable. He doesn't bring anything up thankfully and by the time we're done my nervous system is almost close to stabilizing again. I leave it to Spiridon to bring Victor his dinner and to Ben's surprise, I join him at the table, keeping my eyes averted from the glass. Dimitri doesn't join us. He hadn't come back in with Spiridon either.

I wait until it's an acceptable time to go to bed.

"You still owe me a walk." Ben says lightly.

"Tomorrow."

He smiles softly but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Sounds good, kid. Sleep well."

The night lightens to navy, thick angry clouds hanging heavy in the sky. It might snow again during the day. I wonder how that will affect the challenge and maybe I should have held off until we came back from the Lodge. Most of my body aches, especially my lower back…then it travels lower.

A trip to the bathroom confirms that my day has just gotten shittier.

When I emerge Dimitri's already waiting. He's closed the curtains so he's a dark silhouette on the bay seat, elbows resting on his knees. His hair's wet and pushed back from his face, and my stupid brain can't help but tell me how handsome he is. But his expression is unreadable as I come into the room, and it lets all the dread I'd been holding back unfurl.

I guess 'later' is now.

I crawl onto the bed and glance at the door, checking he's locked it.

He doesn't say anything, waiting for me to start and set the tone, but I hate it. It's almost like we're strangers who don't know how to talk.

I hate it.

"Today was awful." I say eventually.

"Yes, it was."

I push my ring around with my thumb. I'd done it so much today I'm surprised it hasn't worn into my skin.

"I don't know how to do this." I tell him quietly. "I don't know how to talk about it. I…It happened so long ago, and I was told to never think of it again. I have this place where I put things I don't think about or remember, and when you told me about…what happened with Zmey and what he told you, it felt like it exploded open."

I swallow against another ache in my throat.

"That was one of the worst moments of my life." He says, voice low and rough. "Seeing you like that. Seeing it break you apart as you tried to tell me what they did and I couldn't do anything about it. I've been trying to think about how I should have handled the situation and I still haven't come up with an answer, which just shows that I was wrong to…do it in the first place. I should have waited. I should have gotten you here, where you might feel the safest, and maybe Ben would have gone about it…graciously. I will never not be sorry for doing that to you. Never."

"Don't do that. Make it your fault when it isn't. If I had to sit in the living room with everyone, for them to witness me react like that – it would humiliate me. I would never have come out of this room. Not for you, not when Spiridon took off the door. I would have folded in completely and I don't know how I would have come back out again."

I force my eyes to his and my heart clenches at what I find. The mask off and the misery etched there…

All day I'd struggling and hating myself for being weak but here in front of me is one of the strongest, skilled, and hardened warriors to exist…and he's breaking. He's devasted at something I'd lived through, and it hits me – I'd lived through it. I'd endured it and come out the other side. It's still shit, and it hurts but I'd survived.

And I hate to think it but Dimitri is hurting like this for me, there's power in that. I have influence over him whether I wanted it or not.

My eyes drop to the small movement he makes with his hands. They're fisted between his knees, and I recoil at the broken and purple skin marring it.

"Your hands."

He looks down at them in consideration, clears his throat. "It's fine. They usually look worse after pole sparring. Roza, I'm fine –"

But I can't help it. I'd been holding it in all day, nearly broke in Victor's office but told myself there would be time later to let it out, but at the sight of his hands – I turn my face away embarrassed, hating that I was again about to break in front of him.

Those bruised hands smooth my hair back from my face, his touch light like he's hesitant to touch me and I hate that too.

"Can I hold you? Please."

I nod and then he gathers me to him, nearly lifting me from the bed altogether as his arms lock around my waist and pull me up onto my knees. And it feels safe to let all the hurt be felt again. I let myself be swept away by it until I'm hiccupping and curled up in his lap.

My mind turns back to that thought pattern – seeing his pain didn't make me think any less of him. So, him seeing mine, showing him I survived what he can barely stand to imagine, means he doesn't think less of me. If anything, doesn't that mean I have an element of strength? He'd told me before it was a reason he loved me and I hadn't fully believed in what he saw but maybe…maybe now I do.

"A part of me wishes that storm had never stopped." I admit, pressed into the safe space between his neck and shoulder. "It's not just that she's missing or E-Eddie, it's what it's done. Everyone is fighting…and I hate the way I'm being looked at. In pity. Did you hear everything Victor said to me?"

His hold flexes. "I heard him make it sound like you withheld information and everything you said after. Nobody is thinking like that, not even Victor, he just wants you to feel some element of guilt so his is less."

So, I wasn't crazy, it wasn't my fault.

"And as for everyone being at odds, that's my fault, not yours."

I crane my head back to look at him. "How?"

"Because I told you. Their perception of me, not that I can fault them or argue currently, is that I lack sensitivity. I think it was the unsaid thing that Ben was going to be the one to tell you, and I think maybe he should have been and maybe it wouldn't have been that bad."

I work a hand free to reach up and touch his cheek. I wait until he looks at me. "It would have been worse if it wasn't you. I don't remember how much I told you but I…knew you were there. I could hear you talking to me. I don't think Ben telling me would mean I'd react better. It was a door that I didn't open. Sometimes I dreamt about him…and my mother but I tried not to think of either of them."

"Which isn't healthy." He kisses my forehead. "Suppressing that much."

"Well, it doesn't feel great right now not suppressing it." Wiping my hot cheek.

"Zmey told me something else." He murmurs and I still. "That he gave her back her necklace."

"I should have called her." I admit, tears stinging my eyes again. "I thought it would be worse for both of us, talking but not seeing each other but… I want to call her. Even though you and Spiridon think he won't hurt her I'll know by the sound of her voice if she's okay. Ben is looking, isn't he?"

"He is but the phone connection might give him more to go on. Roza, I need you to understand that he might not get anything from it. They gave us the number so I'm sure they'll be trying to cloak anything that might give away her position."

I take that in, that Ben might not find her and make myself say. "At least I'll speak to her."

"You have so much good to tell her, about what you've achieved. It'll be comforting to her, knowing you are safe and hap – healthy."

"I was happy." I murmur and something I said in the car comes back to me. "She won't accept us being together, at all, and I hate that I'm going to hurt her after everything she's done for me...but I wouldn't change anything. I wouldn't change us."

"I wouldn't either. When the time is right, I'd like to speak to her too. Explain just how much you mean to me. That… I want to keep the promise I made her for as long I live."

A vulnerable piece of me, a shard that had broken off a few days ago, reflects the ugly thing I'd been thinking. "You wouldn't? Even though… this isn't the first time I've been upset like this. Loving me isn't easy."

He doesn't let the fear linger and turns my wet face up to his so he can kiss me.

"Loving you is easy." He says softly. "Loving you is as natural to me as breathing."

"Then why did you have to ask if you could hold me?"

"Because I didn't know if you wanted to be held. You pull away when you're upset and I understand why, you want to be strong, so I don't want to make it worse when you might just want your space."

"When I want space, I'll tell you. Or I'll lock my door for an entire day, sorry that's not funny." I tuck my head under his chin. "You don't have to ask in the future."

"I will anyway, just so you have the choice."

I close my eyes. Him, this right now, his words, all a soothing balm on my nervous system.

I'd put this off all day, thinking that it would mean more pain. I'd kept him at arm's length and it had only added to the stress, not just for me but for him too. And he'd mirrored my behavior because I insisted on 'later' which meant he kept the mask on and channeled his feelings the only way he could.

I lift his knuckles to my lips, a kiss over every tear and bruise.

'We worry about each other, that's part of it'

"Say more nice things." I murmur.

He's quiet for a moment. "I've been thinking about the future, after all this when my contract is up. I have an image of us having our own place. Maybe at court to begin with where I could keep working and stay close as you study."

Those are really nice things.

I inhale deeply. "If we were away from here…I've imagined we have a small house, not really small but cozy."

He shifts me in his lap so he can look at me. "You have?"

I nod, tucking his hand to my chest. "Yeah, and how we could decorate for Christmas, we'd cook together all the time and it would just be like those days we were alone. No hiding. Lissa and Natalie could come over sometimes."

A small smile is playing around his mouth. "At least two bedrooms so they could stay and if some of my family came to visit or…"

"Or?"

"Or if your mother wanted to but if she was uncomfortable, I could stay at the barracks for a while."

It's such a sweet thought to bring some relief to the bitter circumstances.

Even though nothing had gotten better, and outside of this room things seem to be getting worse, I realize that I can do what I've always done. Survive it, work through it but this time I wouldn't have to do it alone.

"I love you." I tell him. "I love that you've thought about that."

He dips his head to brush my lips with his but when he speaks his tone is fierce. "We're going to figure all this out. I meant what I said, if Ben finds out where she is then I will go and I will get her back. And honestly, I don't think I'd have a hard time convincing Spiridon or Ben to come with me."

I remember how he'd looked in the hall after overhearing Victor, like he was going to rip the door from the hinges and cut him down. The cold contempt he'd spoken in after seeing my scars for the first time and when I'd told him about the knife.

I know he means what he says and for the first time, it doesn't make me nervous. For the first time, the idea of him unleashing himself on these people uncurls something else in me, anticipation. But in my mind, I'm there too.

And I don't stop hitting.

- MASSIVE s/o to Maddy for her notes on this chapter. It lacked structure, it was repetitive and she helped shine a light on Spiridon's back story, To have someone love and care about these characters as much, if not more than I do, is something I can't show her enough gratitude for. That and she's smart as hell.
This chapter needed to balance Rose dealing with her trauma and finding that inner strength to move forward, to be determined to become a weapon.

- Update time is bullshit, I know, February will be better and Ch 62 should come soon and we can get this bus moving off to the lodge.

On P..at..r.e..o...n I did a Spirdon one-shot as well as a Spiridon drabble piece from his time at St. Basil's where he indirectly did something crucial to help Dimitri. I've also commissioned fanart and it should be uploaded there soon, the artist has finished the fineline work and just needs to colour. An insight on Abe's current daily routine is going up there this week too.

- On the topic of commission art I'd welcome any recommended artists or if you yourself are an artist DM me.

- I spent a good chunk of January planning the original re-write for TMIF.