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

63. Chapter 63

DPOV

Thirteen hours of patrolling and supervising finally ends. I needed something to eat and then I needed to sleep.

My mind doesn't go to the small room adjacent to Victor's suite or the barracks, it goes to her.

I hate that I'm unsure if I'm welcome, that she might need more space but that's my problem, not hers and I wouldn't turn up and make her feel pressure in any form.

I could check in briefly and make it clear I won't linger.

I miss her. It's become this palpable weight I'm carrying around with me. I've never experienced anything like this. Not when leaving Russia, not being away from my childhood home or my sisters. It was almost like – feeling as if I wasn't in the right place, even though I'm not in the wrong place either. I could never completely relax and turn off because it feels like I'm waiting to return somewhere.

To go home.

My legs feel heavy as I wade through the snow on the eastern side toward the service entrance. It swings open as I approach and the Guardian taking over my post strides out. He doesn't acknowledge me. Being here is a reminder of how the rest of society functions outside of the Dashkov's house and surprises me how much I'd grown accustomed to it.

In the chilly cafeteria, below the ground floor and flanking the barracks, I manage to scrounge the remnants of a hot meal. It was better than a limp sandwich or ordering room service on Victor's tab.

My phone buzzes and I pick it up, resisting the urge to groan. My current position was making me lax in some ways, like having the luxury of choosing when I was done for the day.

"Belikov."

The Guard operator gets straight to the point.

"Your assistance had been requested in the Diamond wing."

I frown. The Dragomirs were in the Sapphire wing, Victor, Rose, and Natalie in the Ruby, Natasha, and Christian in the Emerald.

"Requested by who?"

"Lord Adrian Ivashkov."

Rose.

"I'm on my way."

I dispose of the tray, pocket the remnants of my meal, and stride out. It would take fifteen minutes to get there, walking at a pace that wouldn't alarm anyone however I get lucky. It's late enough that the sun is rising, and the majority of guests that aren't asleep will be in the club or the bars. I pass a few staggering and laughing Moroi and it prompts conspiracies of what Adrian would be calling me for, of what he might have dragged Rose into that she would ask him to ring the Guardian line and ask for me specifically.

If he'd coerced her into doing anything that would hurt her…

I finally reach the elevators on the western side and jam the button. A loud group spills in when I'm five floors out and among them is Andre Dragomir. I press myself back into the corner and go unnoticed. One of the girls hanging off Andre's arm asks where Adrian is and he responds, voice dragging with alcohol, that he'll show up in his own time, he was reliable that way.

Which confirmed they weren't going where I was, thankfully.

My gaze unlocks from staring straight ahead to where Andre is whispering in the ear of one girl whilst groping the one on his other side.

The lift dings and they all stumble out into a corridor alive with music and more voices. The party hadn't been contained to a suite and had overflowed into the hall.

I jam the button before anyone else can get in and travel up the remaining floors, preparing for the worst. The elevators doors open and the first thing I notice is the quiet. This is the equivalent of a penthouse floor. I step out into an open lounge area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the valley, one of the runs is close enough that you make out distinct details of the skiers as they pass by. To my far left is a rich oak door to the Diamon suite which I imagine is twice the size of this room.

The fire exit down the hall to my right opens.

"There you are." Adrian Ivashkov says with an air of exasperation. He jerks his head. "Here."

Wary, ready, I cross to where he's leaning heavily against the door to keep it open. He glances at me and back to the landing of the exit.

Spiridon is slumped on the floor.

I look down into the stairwell to confirm it's clear before dropping in front of him. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I found him outside staggering around and he kept saying he couldn't be seen so we ended up taking the stairs." I say his name calmly, clearly and he stirs. His eyes are glazed, and tremors are running through his body. "Which was the most cardio I plan on doing, ever. He weighs a ton for being so…lean."

"Was anyone with him? Did he say anything else?" I press my fingers to his pulse.

"No, just that he couldn't be seen and I figured that has something to do with Victor's image or whatever. I thought he was drunk. He was awake right up until I called Guardian reception, the hotline…whatever it's called."

I run my hands over his shoulders, tilt him forward to do the same to his back but there's no indication he's hurt. He's not stupid enough to drop something here when he could be called on duty at any moment…

"Should I ring for medical assistance?"

"No. You were right to ask for me."

He's wearing a formal shirt.

He'd come off rotation earlier, but he said he still had work to do.

Fuck.

I unbutton his collar and pull it aside.

"Ah." Adrian says.

Two puncture wounds low on his throat. I tilt his head to the left to measure the other side, it's clear but there's a trace of blood on his shoulder. I undo another button to slacken the material.

"Should we move inside? It's freezing out here so maybe you shouldn't be stripping him." I push his shirt back to find two more puncture wounds on the meat of his trapezius. I sense Adrian behind me, having moved to look for himself. "Are you sure we shouldn't call medical?"

I fasten the buttons closed and find Spiridon's gaze focused over my shoulder, on Adrian, and then moving back to me.

"I'm fine." He says but it's more like a rasp. He pushes himself upright and the movement seems to disorientate him.

"Spiridon." I repeat his name until he seems to focus. "You're in shock."

"What was your first clue?" He mutters and another shudder runs through him.

Adrian's right. We need to get him inside. I sling his arm around my shoulder and fasten mine around his waist to haul him up.

"Where am I?" He asks.

"Diamond suite."

"I didn't pay for that." He mumbles.

Behind us, Adrian pulls the heavy door closed. I steer Spiridon to one of the couches and lower him into it. I turn back to Adrian who's paled and staring at the Dhampir semi-unconscious in his penthouse.

"Do you have sodas?" He looks blankly at me and I keep my tone level. "Sugar, it helps with the shock."

"Sugar. Soda. Got it." He staggers over to the kitchenette area. He returns with a can of coke and straw. "I thought, well a straw might be easier, right?"

"Sure." Spiridon's blinking rapidly, staring at the window and the valley that will quickly become blindingly white in the morning sun. "Spiridon, drink this."

The straw does help and within a minute he's nearly drunk the entire thing.

"Should I call someone else?" Adrian asks anxiously, stumbling sideways.

"No." I tell him, keeping my voice level and clear. I needed to reassure him but I needed to remain in control of this situation. "He'll be fine, he just needs to rest and replenish."

"Shouldn't he rest in a hospital bed? Yano where they can…treat him?"

"I'm fine." Spiridon says, voice stronger and irritated. "No hospital."

No hospital. No drawing attention. No unwanted questions about who had done this. No severing connections or leverage Victor needs.

But Adrian had found him and seen the marks.

"I just need…to go to bed." Spiridon mumbles and then grimaces.

I bring the straw back to him and urge him to finish it. When he does Adrian's hand holds out another. I manage to coax him to finish both and by the end, his focus is sharper but he's still pale. I can't get him back to our quarters like this. The Lodge might mostly be asleep but there are still a few cameras on the public areas and Victor's first can't be seen to be seemingly drunk.

I cuss, remembering he's also set for early evening duty.

"He can stay here." Adrian offers quietly, interrupting every bad plan I was formulating. "I'm not expecting anyone or likely going anywhere for a while. But, ah, if he needs constant attention or monitoring, I'm not…responsible enough for that. Mainly because I sleep like the dead."

I draw myself up and turn to face him.

"Are you not expecting your near Guard, Lord Ivashkov?" That title is like bile in my mouth.

He frowns as if hearing the title has the same effect on him. "No. No one will be here, not in my suite anyway."

I have no right to enquire, it's not my place but circumstances demanded. "Why?"

He looks away and shrugs nonchalantly. "Revoked privileges and I'm not in the mood to socialize. Besides, how likely is it I'll require one when this place is crawling with Guardians?"

I look back at Spiridon and weigh up the pros and cons. It doesn't seem like we have much choice.

"Are you certain this won't be an imposition to you?" I ask, forcing my tone to be mild and bare some respect.

"None." Adrian says simply. "And you don't have to talk to me like that. No one's listening and I don't care."

I was right about the suite being bigger than the lounge and in the back of my mind the shred of information that he was up here, alone, unguarded sits like a stone. Well, I suppose he had a Guardian here now.

I get Spiridon into the bedroom Adrian pointed to and lower him onto the bed. After noticing the finery of everything I pull off his boots. This room is bigger than our quarters and closet-sized bathroom combined.

"Do we have class?" Spiridon asks me suddenly.

Disorientation, brain fog, selective memories…

"No."

"Right, good. Where are we?"

"You're in bed. You're going to sleep this off."

I take a throw from a basket in the corner and put it over him. The covers might be too heavy, and he could overheat.

"Dimitri." His voice is clear as I'm pulling the door closed. He's leaning up on his elbow. "Don't tell Victor."

"I won't. I'll be back later."

Relief washes over his face and he collapses back onto the pillows.

Adrian's in the living area holding a tumbler of amber liquid. He nods to the table where a second one sits.

Everything in here is clear or cut crystal, glass, and different textures of grey. The chandelier, the biggest I have ever seen, a web of diamond raindrops that spans over the three sofas. Where the light catches the beads, it throws faint rainbows. It's like being inside one giant glacier and I can only imagine how long it takes for it to be cleaned.

At least Victor's suite is all rosewood and dark red. Rose, and Natalie's room would be the same.

Adrian throws a hand to the second drink. "Thought you could use one, but you might be on duty, and you seem to take that seriously so…" He shrugs.

"I'm fine. Thank you, not only for that but for your assistance." He doesn't seem to be listening. I move deeper into the room and put myself in his eye line. He looks up like he forgot I was there. "Why did you think to call me?"

He stares at me for longer than necessary and in the depths of myself, a place ancient and mastered, the creature raises its head.

"Aside from what I've already told you? You serve the same person so mutual interest, and I didn't know what to do with him so who else was I going to ask? At Thanksgiving when…that happened you were eager to defend him so…" He shrugs again. "I thought you'd care."

It was a plausible explanation.

"Plus, I asked him, and he said yes, that I should get you."

A feeling I can't process or identify resonates through me, so I clear my throat and push past it.

"Can he remain here all day? I'll be able to come back later this evening if he isn't up."

"Sure." He takes a hearty gulp of something that should be sipped.

"You have our gratitude for your discretion."

His green eyes flick to mine. "I told you, you don't have to talk to me like that." I don't know what he means, and he grins as if he knows. "In that tone, that dutiful way. You don't work for me."

I incline my head because I don't know what he wants and frankly, it's irritating.

He shakes his and looks away. "Yes, you have my discretion."

"Thank you." I repeat because it seems right to do so. "He should be fine but if anything does happen ask to be put through to me again."

I repeat the number sequence he'd used to get into the room and ask him if it's due to change. I'd noted it when he'd let us in, just encase.

"Nope, just don't go giving it out."

I leave, placing a call and managing to get someone to cover Spiridon's shift later which leaves me with their slot to fill and it begins in ten minutes. I send a text to Ben to make him aware that I'm covering someone and won't be back. It's a graveyard duty, patrolling three sets of corridors for the next five hours. The only eventful moment is having to help a Moroi into their room when they fail to insert their key card four times.

It was mundane and mind-numbing with the temptation to fall asleep standing coming and going.

A few months ago, an energy sachet would have been an easy option. Not now.

A Guardian finally relieves me and on auto-pilot, I make my way back to Victor's suite but I don't find myself outside his door. My subconscious selfish need leads me to hers but it's completely conscious selfish need that has me keying in the override code and letting myself in.

I just need to see her – after the past week and everything that has happened, I was constantly on edge.

I'm brought up short on the threshold.

Natalie, her boyfriend Ralf, Lissa, Rose, and Jesse are camped out in the living room. Rose and Lissa share one couch, Natalie and Ralf the one opposite, and Jesse is asleep sitting up against it. They're all covered in some variation of glitter and Natalie has a feather boa wrapped around her. Parties were going to rage into the New Year with so many students gathered here over the holiday season.

Just as I'd done with Spiridon I cover them with throws and gently pry a solo cup from Lissa's hand.

A tickle of awareness runs over my neck, and I find Rose watching me, eyes half-closed and heavy.

"Goodnight." I murmur.

"Goodnight." She whispers

---

I drag myself out of bed early, leaving Ben snoring, and get to Adrian's suite before the breakfast rush. I knock before putting in the code and to my astonishment the Moroi answers.

Adrian's changed out of yesterday's clothes and looks to have showered but seems as well-rested as I feel.

"He's fine." He says by way of greeting, stepping aside to allow me in. "He's taking a shower."

"Has he said anything?"

Adrian gives me a dry look. "You mean has he told me who bit him or any other incriminating things that would require more discretion?" I keep my expression plain, but he smiles knowingly. "No, we didn't talk about how or what happened. I filled him in on how we got here, that you stormed in, and then we ordered room service."

Something occurs to me. "How did you get him up all those flights of stairs?"

Adrian drops onto the sofa, propping an ankle on his knee. "There's a service elevator that goes to the floor below. I only had to get him from there to where you found us."

That made a lot more sense. Adrian unmutes the TV and makes it clear he isn't interested in small talk.

Fine by me.

I take myself off to the guest bedroom where the shower is running in the ensuite. I toss the spare thermal shirt and long-sleeved gear onto the bed and wait. He couldn't wear last night's shirt.

Ten minutes later the water shuts off and ten the door opens, thick steam rolling out to the ceiling. The heat brushes over my face from where I stand against the bedroom door.

Spiridon glances at me and then at the garments on the bed. "Thanks."

The puncture wounds on his throat have reduced to pricks and I turn my back to him so he can dress.

"Anyone else know I'm here?" He asks.

"No."

He exhales. "Good. Princeling in there is none the wiser either. Just another closet Bloodwhore." I grind my teeth together and hear him pulling on his trousers, fastening his belt. "The judgement radiating from you is astounding. I'll need another shower."

I turn back as he's pulling on the undershirt. "Did you know that was going to happen?" He doesn't respond and pulls on the second shirt. "Spiridon."

"I was there. Of course, I knew it could happen, and it did. So..." He throws up his hands.

"But you didn't consent."

"Dimitri, don't. I'm not naive, neither are you, it's always something they think is on the table."

"You need to report it to –"

"Fuck off." He dismisses, dropping onto the bed to pull on his boots.

"Victor. You need to tell him, so you're not expected to ever go back to whoever it was."

"You're not listening. I didn't walk into anything blindly. I knew it could happen and it did. Shit happens. You move on."

"Because it did happen doesn't mean it should have!" I blaze and he pauses. "Do you remember leaving? Or did they toss you out after they were done? Can you remember everything they did?" The look he gives me tells me no, he doesn't. "There has to be a line."

His steely gaze holds mine. "I haven't found mine yet."

I don't believe him but I know I'm not going to get through to him or win this argument if it could be won. Spiridon, more than Ben and I, knows exactly what he signed up for and is the least troubled by it because he firmly believes in the means to an end.

"Was it at least worth it?" I ask flatly. "Whatever information you gleaned."

His face shutters before he looks away and that says it all.

"I have rotation in thirty minutes."

"No, you don't." His head snaps up. "There was no certainty you'd be up, only that you might be coherent. I'll see you out there."

I slip back into the hall before the urge to debate where that line is takes hold.

Back in the living area Adrian's phone is vibrating, moving slowly across the glass table as he ignores it. He has a beer held loosely in his fingers and he's more alert than he had been when I'd come in.

"Everything okay?" I incline my head. "You can sit down you know, no need to 'take position'." I hadn't been aware I had but sure enough, I have my back to the nearest wall. "You're not on duty otherwise you wouldn't be here."

Right, he had no Guard on this floor.

"I prefer standing, thank you."

"Of course, you do." He's staring at me with more intensity than is called for. Perhaps alcohol isn't the only thing he chases his breakfast with. "Can I ask you something about that…last night."

His hesitancy to call it for what it is says something.

"You can ask." He smiles slightly at the insinuation that he won't get an answer, but his expression turns sombre. "Was he nearly…did they take too much and that's why he was like that?"

I understand what he's asking. The effects of the bite are aligned to opioids, usually, but it's known how dangerous it is to overdraw, to drain, and what that would mean for a Moroi. But it's what happened to Spiridon that's not commonly known.

His ignorance and surprise to that says something too.

I step deeper into the room and lower my voice. "When you feed it's from a participant who expects and is willing. They'll feel the euphoric effects moments later but if they aren't willing then cortisol and adrenaline will keep pumping into the bloodstream."

Adrian returns my gaze levelly. The only sign he's affected is his thumb scraping at the label of the bottle.

"They fed on him when… he was afraid?"

Terrified is the better term. Adrenaline inflating the muscle which is why they'd gone trapezius as well as the neck. I'd heard that blood from someone willing is sweeter and can become sensual very quickly, hence the term Blood Whoring, however, there are a few that have…other preferences.

Strigoi you expect it from but Moroi who enjoy tangible fear? There's more than one reason Spiridon needs to tell Victor.

"Yes."

Adrian suddenly stands and something in the back of my mind tells me to step back. I ignore it.

"What the fuck? I thought he'd just had too much of a good thing, he made out he had, he was joking about it. We need to tell someone!"

"We're handling it." I return smoothly.

He glares at me and my mind flashes back fifteen years. "You're lying. This is my family's resort. I can't have this happening and no action taken."

His family's resort.

The animal that has long since been tethered and chained, strains to be set loose.

He blinks and leans back as if he can sense it.

"We are handling it." I repeat deathly calm. "Making an official report now would be void."

He means to argue further but I turn my head at the sound of Spiridon's deliberate footsteps, and then he comes into view.

He grins, an air of sheepishness about it, and runs a hand over his damp hair. "Thanks again for last night. Hopefully the third time we meet I'm not concussed or unconscious, ruining my reputation."

"Not something I can judge you on." Adrian replies. "You have my number encase you need anything."

"You too. I figure I owe you one." He motions to me, and I follow him out. As soon as the elevator doors close, he starts and the tone he'd used with Adrian has been left behind in the suite. "Whatever reasonable lecture you're about to give me save it. I'll deal with Victor, and it won't happen again, not like that. Sorry to have inconvenienced you."

Now that's out of his system...

"I was going to ask that next time you tell me, so should it happen again, I know where you are."

I feel him look at me, but I keep my face relaxed, staring ahead. We travel down another three floors before he speaks.

"Alright."

---

The Dragomirs have come to Victor's suite for breakfast, opting to avoid restaurant bustle as most of the Royals do.

Rose still has glitter on her cheek and Natalie is hiding her hangover remarkably well. Lissa is bright-eyed and separating Rose's hair into two sections to braid as they confirm their plans for the day, which seem to be about horseback riding, skiing, and then going to the spa. Rose is sitting out of animal-based activities for obvious reasons and instead is meeting Mason Ashford at the gym.

Spiridon raises his eyebrows at me behind her back, restacking his second plate with pastries despite having already eaten with Adrian. I ignore him but Ben asks polite but pointed questions.

I try to ignore the memory of her legs in skin-tight material of her workout leggings. This is not the time or the place.

"When do we get to see you in Rose's Christmas present?" Natalie asks Ben over the discussion Eric and Victor are having about Conta's family position on current affairs.

Ben grins. "The next slumber party, promise. I'll bring the face packs."

"You better. No, backing out." Rose says, eyeing him.

"Never, I'll be there and wearing my pink onesie in pride."

The girls laugh and across the table Rhea smiles fondly over her teacup.

Spiridon strolls around the table so he can be in Rose's eyeline. "What about us? Where are our presents?"

Christmas night was yesterday and the Dragomirs hosted dinner, a few games, gift exchange, and then the girls along with Andre had gone to one of the various parties. Andre had yet to turn up this morning.

It occurs to me again, how odd it was that Adrian was in the largest suite, fit for his entire family or to host, but he'd been alone.

"You were working!" Rose bursts out. "I'll go get them right now."

Lissa has no choice but to hastily secure a hair tie as Rose runs from the room.

"I was kidding! Has she seriously got me something?" Spiridon hisses at Natalie who answers with a smug smile.

"She got us all something." Rhea says, affection clear and I wish I could thank her for it.

Spiridon whirls on me, and I know him well enough to recognise the hint of panic on his face. I return it with a blank look of my own, I wasn't going to help.

"Shouldn't you be on duty right now?" Victor interrupts, tone mildly curious.

In the other room, the door opens and Rose bounds in with a gift bag swinging.

Spiridon doesn't miss a beat. "Had to switch, public slots are always moved around."

"Is that why you were on a second shift earlier, Dimitri?"

I meet his eye and his tone might be level, but the subtext was clear to read.

No repeats of Estonia.

"Yes. It was short, hall patrol for a few hours."

"Nothing too strenuous then." Erics smiles, pouring himself more coffee, and adds to Victor. "No need for you or Natasha to worry."

I look away from Victors studious gaze to lock with brown eyes doing the same but they quickly look away.

"Here." Rose says, holding the bag out to Spiridon.

He looks at it, then at her, then at me, and back to it. "Is something going to tazer me when I put my hand in?"

"Ha. Ha." Natalie punctuates and then winces.

Spiridon pulls out the book we found at the market and immediately laughs, wiping the anxiety off Rose's face.

"What is it?" Rhea asks, ignoring her husband and Victor's conversation.

"100 ways to compliment people." Spiridon answers and throws Rose an approving look as she sits back down for Lissa to finish her hair. Natalie tells him there's more and he reaches in for the other gift. He reads the label and his head snaps to me.

I'm smirking before I can stop myself.

"What is it?" Lissa prompts.

"It comes out when you wash it." Rose says, pressing her lips together.

"Rose has for some reason bought me tinted hair gel." Spiridon explains to the rest of them but he's still staring at me. "Starry night blue."

Ben starts laughing and then begins explaining, for Rhea's benefit and for the men whose ears have pricked up, the story behind it.

"If there weren't ladies present, ie Rhea and Lissa, we'd be exchanging a few words." Spiridon says sweetly to Rose.

"Hold onto them until we're training." She returns smoothly. "Should give you more time to rehearse."

"WHY have I never heard about this?" Natalie demands, delighted by Ben's brief retelling of our novice days. "You two used to prank each other?"

And before Spiridon can open his mouth I answer, "Because he wasn't any good at it."

"I should have shaved your head in your sleep." Spiridon throws at me.

"Ah, but that's not creative, that's vindictive." Lissa says.

"I'm imagining Dimitri bald and I don't like it." Natalie cringes.

"Won't have to imagine soon." Spiridon says.

Lissa fastens the end of the second braid of Rose's hair with a band. With it all pulled off her face it just serves to illuminate her beauty. I force myself to look away before I can do something impulsive.

"Dimitri's going to be bald. Spiridon's hair is going to be blue...daddy, it's going to look like you're starting a punk band."

Rhea laughs. "Now that does take me back."

"Please, no coloured hair until after the Solstice ball." Victor says.

A crafty look comes over Natalie and the other two girls pause, sensing something coming. "Speaking of the ball. Rose, given any more thought to the propositions?'

Lissa rolls her eyes as Rose's cheeks immediately flame, akin to the same heat that courses up my spine.

Propositions? Propositions, plural.

Spiridon is immediately intrigued. "Please, elaborate for the group."

"I wasn't speaking to the group."

"Nonetheless the group heard, and I am part of security, so I need to know."

"Natalie, shut up." Rose says and I know it's without consent that her eyes flick to mine before hastily dropping.

"Don't embarrass her." Rhea chides but Natalie pays her no mind, grinning wider.

"It's not embarrassing! You are in a position of power here, boss it. Use it." Natalie urges.

"I really don't think I could stand more of Jesse and Mason acting like they were last night." Lissa says face creasing in amusement. "It was like the discovery channel where the male is like, performing for the female's attention."

"That's why me and Ralf were doing the commentary!"

"Oh, that's where I got that from."

"Jesse and Mason?" Rhea asks. "I thought Adrian?"

"Oh, mom don't. Please."

"She's playing the field, Rhea! Adrian - "

"Can we please stop discussing it like I'm not right here and haven't already asked you not to?" Rose says, cutting Natalie off from divulging more, who has the grace to look sheepish. I don't miss the glance Rose throws Victor's way.

She's learning quickly and going by the performance she gave in his office…

She's far more cunning and more capable than most suspect, a weapon forging.

Blood rushes to places it shouldn't in a room full of people and I take myself on a short tour of the room.

After breakfast, the girls file out with Ben escorting Rose to the gym. I'd volunteered originally, this place is an extensive labyrinth and not only that but she was still getting used to large crowds, but Victor held me and Spiridon back so the job had then fallen to Ben.

Hopefully, he has a word with Ashford and whoever else might be doling out propositions. Adrian is a likely candidate but who else? I scan through faces and names that I can recall from Halloween, and then it hits me – who the hell wouldn't be trying to date her?

"Dimitri." Victor's voice cuts through the thoughts building momentum.

He motions to one of the vacated seats. Spiridon takes Rhea's and I take the place opposite, on Victor's left-hand side. Without prompting Spiridon launches into what had happened last night, managing to stay on the surface of the truth. He'd gone to Anthony Badica's suite and he'd obtained the piece of information needed but it had been a slow grafting process which is why he was not fit for work – so I had stepped in.

"And Dimitri, you feel well-rested?" Victor asks appraisingly.

Go into cardiac arrest once and your ability to man an empty hallway when the sun is in the sky is questioned. I know it's not an attack on my capability – but my judgement. I nod but under the table, my fingers curl.

"And what did you learn?" He says swinging back to his right.

Spiridon's glib expression is his own mask. "Anthony has a Dhampir love child with a human in Georgia. They lived in a community until they were unceremoniously escorted out a few nights ago by a group strangely mixed up of Moroi and Dhampir, with a Dhampir giving out the orders. Love child's mother rang Anthony asking for funds because she didn't trust the accommodation they were being put up in, smart woman."

"Did she tell him anything else?"

"Well, Anthony was a little obliterated by this point, but he said that she was told it wasn't safe. I couldn't get much else out of him after that. Gonna be honest, got the impression he wished they'd stayed behind to find out if it was safe or not."

Victor sits back, looking deep in thought and Spiridon avoids looking at me.

There's a faint beep and a moment later Ben strides in. Spiridon fills him in, adding foundations to the email we'd been forwarded from Victor's contact at the Guard. The email was untraceable and from an 'unknown' source and provided concerns with evidence of immense Strigoi activity in the Caucasus Mountain regions. A network of caverns was believed to be in use and hosting the largest nest yet – meaning it could also be where Nathan was based.

That is if Nathan was still at the top of the chain. It's been two years since he was sighted and with Strigoi's volatile and pack-like nature he may be challenged and overthrown. Fuck, for all we know he's evolved and delegated command positions instead of sitting like a queen bee in a hive.

The email detailed that the surrounding communities in the lower regions were to be evacuated and the Guard should send forces imminently.

That wasn't happening. I imagine the email had gone to Victor and straight into the bin.

Ben voices what we're all thinking. "So The Circle has evacuated at least eight communities and communes – have there been any attacks in that area?"

"Not that we know of." Victor says.

"Would we know?" I ask and they all look at me. "If the Guard is dismissing warnings without follow up, if what Zmey told us is true about aiding places ignored and if what Alina told us at Thanksgiving is true – who knows what else the Guard are keeping to themselves?"

"The reports have come slower." Ben says, casting a look at Victor. "There were regular updates every few days after the Zeklos massacre but now it's just statistics on the red zones. Hardly any follow ups or communication stats on nest movement. We know those boundaries of the zones are widening slowly but we're not being told."

"To avoid panic and lowering of morale." Victor reasons and the three of us exchange a look.

"We are not programmed to panic." Spiridon responds.

"It wouldn't lower morale…that's not the right reasoning. Yes, it might affect the decisions of those graduating but you've heard it yourself from the novices – they're eager to get out there." I add.

Victor nods like he's taking it all in. "Which is why, again, we must stress how important the Ozera proposal is and Ben, you must make the right impressions tomorrow in your presentation." If Ben's nervous about presenting to the Coalition he doesn't show it. "You have Zoey Blake's recommendation and an appraisal from what you instituted in Estonia, Levandi's glowing words, and all the feedback from the field testing. Make them see your vision for weaponry is necessary for our survival."

Spiridon claps his shoulder. "No pressure."

Ben takes a deep breath. "Weapon development is what I know, I got this."

"Dare you to refer to them as 'Ben's nifty gifties'."

They both cracks into smiles that Victor squashes with a look.

"I also wanted to bring to your attention that all talk of The Circle and Zmey around Rose is to be avoided."

Spiridon glances at me but Ben says, "Why? She's compelled not to talk about it."

"For overall safety." Victor replies smoothly but it's a lie.

I know he's annoyed about the removal of one of the compulsions, not because of the nature of it but because I demanded it. Not brashly or without respect, I just stipulated that what I had asked for was no longer necessary and should be removed as Rose becomes more confident and efficient in taking care of herself. I know that it's a worry for him that the removal of the other could follow which would result in conflict because it will always be 'no'.

"Can't argue about safety." Spiridon says, stretching back in his seat. "Speaking of, have the terrible twins assaulted anyone else?"

"No, from what I've been told Moira and Lucas have been rather…behaved." My hands fist and someone presses their foot onto mine in warning, there's no telling who it is, both Ben and Spiridon sit side by side, attention on Victor. I school my features. "Lengthening the leash in a show of good faith has worked out well. Fewer outbursts."

"Lengthening the leash?" Ben asks, sitting forward, his tone speaking for both of us. Outrage and disbelief.

Victor hums and checks his watch. "A little more freedom. Every breath, word, and movement they made was reported to us before but I think it was worsening things, agitating them. Since lifting our monitoring eye Moira has left the townhouse to socialize, shop and it seems to be doing her some good."

"With the exception of the six minutes her Guard couldn't find her." Spiridon adds, popping a blueberry into his mouth and reminding everyone where he sits on the hierarchy.

Victor gives him a dry look. "She hadn't left the department store, the cameras showed that."

Spiridon doesn't waver. "Still unaccounted for."

"I'm not concerned." Victor dismisses and then turns to me. "Has Natasha said anything that would make you be?"

The question corks the racketing feelings and thoughts at what he's just revealed.

"No."

Victor continues to stare at me and I get the feeling I've given the wrong answer, somehow.

"Has she told you about her and Lucas' phone call?"

Fuck.

"She hasn't had the opportunity to." I answer carefully. "I've been on patrols or sitting in with your meetings."

He makes a noise of consideration. "Then perhaps tomorrow you sit out of dinner with the Voda's and spend some quality time with her."

I feel myself nod, hear myself thank him but inside oily dread spools through my stomach. Rose's face, her smell, the weight of her pressed against me – all of it invades my senses and I try to push it out, remain in the present.

"You could go to Paris." Spiridon suggests, "Fancy, romantic… drop a royal name to get a nice reservation." Restaurant. Public. Better odds at keeping things civil and she keeps her drinking to a moderate standard. "They have those secluded little pods at the back that overlook the valley. You might appreciate the privacy what with the buzz about you two."

It takes everything in me to keep my face neutral.

"The restaurant will be fine." Victor decides dismissively and asks Ben to make the call.

There's a thundering that has little to do with the feeling of betrayal but entirely to do with feeling so…out of control. The restaurant would be fine because the buzz needs to get louder and gain substance. I'm wading deeper into this lie without the sure footing of ever getting out again without it being a disaster. When I had signed my contract, I hadn't been naive to the stipulations, but I had never imagined I would have more of a personal life outside of my family. I never I'd have something that would suffer under the weight of a binding agreement.

"Shouldn't I call her first andask her to dinner?" My voice is devoid of anything, empty.

"I think she'd appreciate you taking the lead." Victor responds, the subtle urge laced under his words. "Tell her when to be ready for."

We're dismissed soon after and I aim for the adjoining Guardian quarters to Victor's room. Ben follows me in.

"I got you the latest reservation." He says quietly as I grab fresh clothes. "Natasha has an early class with some of the kids so if you drag dinner out you can have the visible excuse of needing to turn in."

No control and having to rely on flimsy tactics to tread water.

I thank him before shutting myself into the claustrophobic bathroom. I turn the temperature of the shower as high it will go and step in, hoping it will sear away the clinging nausea I'd had the moment I'd uncovered those puncture marks on Spiridon.

---

When I step back into the sleeping quarters, steam rolling out around me, Spiridon is feigning sleep on the lower bunk.

"Oh, how many women would kill for my position right now." He says, eyes remaining closed. "A few men probably too."

"The bed can't be that comfortable."

He sighs. "Always so modest."

I pull on trousers, a thermal undershirt, and a thick black sweater.

He pushes up onto his elbow. "Did you bring a shirt? You'll need one for big date night."

That arrogant tone is making it incredibly hard to hold onto a sympathetic edge, which I would bet is entirely his intention. So hellbent on being dislikeable.

I had brought a shirt but to be in formal uniform for the ball, but this dinner is just as much a job as that will be.

"I brought one." I say evenly and then to prove his tactic isn't working "You should rest for a few hours. I'll come back before we're on."

"I'm fine."

I didn't expect any other response, I would have said the same because we had to be fine. We were expected to be and suddenly the immense weight of the past two weeks bears down. Everything Zmey had said, revealed, or implied - I hadn't been able to digest or discuss it with him or Ben because of his revelations concerning Rose had taken precedence. In our meetings, Victor had dismissed everything he'd brought up and his only concern was his next move, the tape.

Robert hadn't been mentioned again.

"It's a dinner Dimitri, not a fucking crucifixion." Spiridon says, sitting up. My stomach turns, thinking of what he's been through and how trivial this must seem to him. "I get that you don't like lying to her but I mean, you already had banter before just build on it."

"But it's not just that is it? It's a statement to everyone and…"

It's masquerading as something we're not, and it's different because it's too close to personable and what I really want. It's not walking in with my mask on and interrogating or negotiating. It's being a false version of who I am when I'm with Rose and I know I can do it, I know I can lie well but I…don't want to.

"And?" Spiridon asks, looking genuinely confused. "You're having dinner not making some big declaring speech or Jesus, proposing. I highly doubt Natasha's expecting you to go from nought to one hundred either, that would be suspicious. Keep going at your glacier pace or whatever just be...more forward about it." He looks thoughtful for a moment and then asks, "Do you even know how to flirt?"

Usually, this is when I ignore him or roll my eyes but instead, I find myself considering the question.

"No, I don't think I do."

He laughs lightly and even a small smile pulls at my lips before slipping off again.

"What was your 'and'?"

I debate not telling him, but I haven't been able to out-train the same thoughts since Zmey's visit. If anything, sparring and training, and being on duty were enough to take the edge off.

"Have you ever spent time thinking about how Rose feels about Natasha? Not a dislike on principal alone but a physical reaction to her because of who she looks like – who she calls her family, still." Spiridon remains silent and the absence of a glib comment spurs me on. "Lucas not only held them prisoner and determined the course of Rose's life before she was born, kept a young pregnant Dhampir as a slave – but he murdered his son or as good as did. And do you think Zmey discovered the extent of it? There will be more that Rose can't bear to talk about or think about. She thought what happened with Alec was inevitable, normal." He swallows, a small movement but a tell. "And then Natasha is welcomed by the man who's promised her better, pushing me toward her when he knows I was the first person to build trust with her. Do you about think how this feels for her?"

The quiet stretches and with dawning horror, I think might have said too much.

Spiridon gaze remains steady, face unreadable. "I think that Rose has been part of the discussion and knows that you're not exactly thrilled about this. I think that if Victor knows your dragging your heels because of her then he'll do something about it, like encourage Rhea Dragomir's offer to have Rose live with them." She'd told me about that, but she'd made it sound like it had just been between her and Rhea. It doesn't surprise me Victor's involved. "I think Rose is a big girl and as long as she isn't the one taking Natasha to dinner then it's not as big as an issue as you think." I take that in and when I don't relax immediately, he adds with exasperation, "Seriously, chill the fuck out."

I nod. "Right. You're right."

He sits up straighter. "Jesus, that's a first."

"A last too, probably. Enjoy it."

The door swings open and the room gets even smaller as Ben steps in. He looks between us with raised eyebrows, it's then I realise I'm smiling.

He relays Victor's schedule for the day before sending it through to us.

I wonder if Rose told him about those propositions and if he had a few words with Ashford.

Thoughts of the same nature inflate in my brain for the next hour and a half, tangling with scenarios of Rose at the party last night.

When Spiridon clicks his fingers in front of my face I force myself to concentrate. We set out on our patrol which consists of telling students to not do things that are dangerous but apparently makes them more appealing.

After telling another novice to not snowboard down the stairs, I step out onto the wide deck and the frigid air is a welcome relief. Spiridon slides the wide door shut and we move off on the final lap of our patrol.

"I forgot how much I fucking hate teenagers."

I smirk. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't but being around them constantly is bringing out my homicidal plotting side. And you know what that's like."

"I'm familiar."

He laughs shortly. "Imagine St. Basil's believed in luxurious winter breaks. We'd have brought shame down on that school for centuries. Expelled within a few days. Princes and Lords furious. Lady's and Princesses fainting in scandal…or maybe they'd be really turned on who knows."

"Don't be ridiculous." I glance at him and he raises his eyebrows. "We'd have been expelled within a few hours."

"Minutes."

"Probably would have caused a collision on the highway on the way here."

Spiridon laughs in agreement. "We were a nightmare."

"Some moments ask for admiration though." I raise my eyes to his hair. "You suited blue hair."

"The pink was a bit of a piss-take though."

My grin widens. "Shouldn't have fallen for it the second time."

"Fallen for it? You put it in my fucking hair gel."

"Watching it develop through the first three lessons was one of my prouder moments."

"I find it a bit disturbing Dimitri Belikov is associating me with a moment of pride."

"Sorry about that."

He's quiet for a beat. "That gel Rose got me won't wash out, will it?"

I laugh and it comes from somewhere deep. "I honestly don't know."

The deck spans out into an open space. A Moroi couple each holds a small hand of a child walking between them. A clear-faced Guardian walks a few steps behind them. They pass us, swinging the giggling toddler up between them. Spiridon nods at the Guardian as they pass.

We veer over to the balcony to get a clearer view of the grounds below.

Pearl Valley was everything you would expect for royalty. An affluent, sprawling winter kingdom encompassed by three mountains. The Lodge was built into the centre summit, the shorter of the three shouldering sisters, and staircases down to the flatter land. Home to seven restaurants, two cinemas, a small shopping mall, two separate pool facilities, a spa, two gyms, Guardian barracks, and further down the valley was a small village of chalets and a gift shop.

Outside the middle sister, the other two mountains were snaked with varying runs across their wide range. The furthest and most challenging run lay on the eastern side where ski lifts, specks from where we stand, carry the most skilled skiers. Or the most ambitious.

All of this is owned by the Ivashkov family.

I willed myself not to feel anything about it but it didn't hold off the cold oily sensation in my stomach. Being faced with so much wealth couldn't stop me from thinking about Karolina crying, stressed that our boiler had broken and she couldn't find extra work to earn the money to fix it.

And he had the keys to this.

Adrian has the keys to this.

And yet he'd been alone in that suite when I know his immediate family are here…somewhere.

"You alright?"

I nod curtly, the respite gained from getting outside and the light banter with Spiridon, evaporates. I remind myself that Randall's not here and I wouldn't have to deal with running into him, or fuck, Roza meeting him.

There is no world in which I would be ready for that on top of everything else.

Unwanted but not unwelcomed longing sears through my chest. I haven't spent any time with her since getting here, there simply hadn't been any. With the resort at capacity, every available Guardian was on a timetable for patrols. Despite being in a private contract Spiridon and I were taking public slots. When we weren't on patrol we were with Victor, who had taken to inviting Natasha to his meetings to represent her family and her vision of Moroi defence.

I hate that I've seen more of Natasha than I have of Rose, but I content myself with the knowledge that she's having fun.

We reach the end of the wide space and step up into the narrower walkway that will curve down to the lowest outdoor deck.

Spiridon starts theorizing if there's a way to move slope 9's barriers to steer the kids into the oncoming traffic of slope 13 without anyone seeing him when I stop dead.

"What?"

The lowest deck is populated with chairs and tables to accommodate an outdoor bar area. Currently, it's full and chatter is heavy in the air, at least three different languages exchanging and weaving over each other.

His patience collapses. "Who or what are you looking at?"

Dimly I register the name leaving my lips, unable to look away and I should before their sixth sense kicks in. That would ruin the plan formulating in my head.

"Fuck." Spiridon breathes and then moments later. "Dead man walking."

I need to move before he sees me, before the other Guardians stationed on the deck take notice of us. Two stilled figures on the stairs raises suspicion and it would have a domino effect. I take the stairs at a controlled pace and round quickly at the bottom, walking down the snowy slope.

Spiridon stays at my back until we're at a safer distance and moves to my side.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we keep walking until we reach slope 9." Because when I act, they're going to retrace their steps back and if it had been noticed I'd stilled, watching them those few seconds, then that's cause to mark me as a suspect.

"Okay, can we talk whilst we walk, or do you need a minute?" I don't respond and he allows it. Slope 9 is close, and the grounds so compacted it's an easy walk. "I'll talk then. An interesting factoid Adrian told me was that only the public spaces have cameras. Too many divorce cases hinging on CCTV footage of hallways, elevators, service corridors, and the top floor pool so, in a show of good business, the Ivashkovs removed them. Isn't that nice?"

I mull that over, plans reshaping and solidifying.

I stop walking and face him. He looks back evenly but I could swear there is something akin to excitement under the surface. I know without having to ask he's in and there was no talking him out of it.

"Yes, it does mean then they remain an impartial party." I say carefully. "The Ivashkov's aren't liable for any unfortunate occurrences."

"All evidence then rests on eye witness accounts." He returns.

I nod, thinking quickly. "We need Ben."

He rolls his eyes and begins walking again. "Do we?"

"Yes, if not to help cement things but to also keep them from crossing paths." I tell him, as we fall back into step.

I will not let Rose be blindsided in a place where she can be distracted and feel freer from the things that haunt her. Those days in the house, seeing her struggle to hold back her pain, pain that had been so ruining and soul-wrenching to see take hold of her in the car, had been a new kind of hell. I'd felt helpless to do anything when every fibre in my being strained to take action, to do something whether it was holding her or hunting those that had caused it.

Rage is a building agent, goading that animal tethered.

The two Guardians posted on the watchtower nod at us and take their leave as we take up their post.

"You don't have to do this with me." I say to him when I'm almost calm again. He gives me a dry look before returning his gaze to the slope. "Victor can't know."

"I know. It would incriminate him, but it can be said that I am acting in his best interest. They might be here for him…or Natalie."

True.

I pull out my phone to call Ben and echo back the words he spoke to me in the kitchen a few days ago. "Timing is key."

Spiridon grins and it's feral. "All good things come to those who wait."

I give Ben the bare minimum details, something he's used to as Spiridon and I frequently carry out tasks appointed by Victor. Things better suited to our strengths. He'll fabricate our whereabouts later, ensure Victor's covered. There's no way of subtly asking him to keep track of Rose and should she change her plans to stay in the room later to alert us. He doesn't ask why but there's tension through the phone.

Spiridon puts in his own call, pulling rank, and asking to cross their name with the public rota so we can mark their movements. Then he subsequently informs them to get someone over to slope 9 to cover it.

"He's only on public shift, twenty more minutes at that post before covering the west side permitter and working back in." He tells me as we stride away from the platform.

"How fortunate."

No Moroi charge to worry about raising alarm.

"Not for him."

---

An hour and a half later I stand outside Rose's door. I knock lightly, steeling my nerve and not entirely sure how I'm going to approach this.

The door swings open.

Zoey Blake smiles at me. "Guardian Belikov, it's nice to see you again."

I incline my head. "Likewise."

She moves aside and I step into the room, my curiosity overtaking everything. Rose is sitting on the other side of the table, and I imagine Zoey had been on the nearest couch, judging by the teacup, and so had been closest to the door.

Rose stands. "Guar- sorry, Zoey was just answering some questions for me and talking to me about careers."

"Offering what little advice, I have." Zoey says, sliding on her leather jacket. "Dhampir women have to stick together."

Rose offers her a smile, a real one, and weight eases off my chest at the sight of it.

"With your experience, I'm sure it's sage advice." I tell Zoey and she inclines her head at the compliment. "How did the meeting go? Did win Ben win them over?"

Zoey's mouth splits into a wide smile. "He did an amazing job. Of course, there was the argument of tradition, but no one could argue the advantage of updating our arsenal, the confidence alone that can be felt from holding a short sword can make the difference."

I move my duster aside to show the blade at my belt. "I agree. A stake, while symbolic and an honour, leaves us at the disadvantage of close range and with only one sure way of dispatching them."

A sword changes things, it's the difference not allowing them to get close enough to utilise that bone-crushing strength. It means being able to remove their head from their shoulders with one swipe, ending things more quickly. With the growing numbers we needed to be efficient, it's less and less likely you will only meet one lone Strigoi. The second evening after we arrived, I had led a small group out to the southern ward boundary to deal with a pack roaming there. The only causality on our side was a broken collarbone.

"That's exactly what I said." Zoey says and Rose steps over to us. "He also spoke of the range that he's working on, silver arrowheads and other exciting explosives."

"Exciting is one word for them but not one I'd use when he was still figuring out the delayed detonation."

It had gone off in the middle of the day and left a football-sized dent in Natalie's car door. I'll never forget that metallic explosion, almost feeling it through the bedroom floor, hearing Spiridon shouting curses from his side of the house and Ben racing past my bedroom shouting apologises. I'd only been there a week.

Zoey looks delighted. "I'm hoping to pick his brain about it when we can find the time. He's a very…refreshing presence. As I was explaining to Rose, present company excluded, of course, even Dhampir men can be very unsupportive of female ambition."

"I think The Fall had a lot to do with that. Any instance of change brings a lot of unease."

She hums. "Change is the only thing that will see us through this, as Levandi now understands, your charge too. And if the rumours are true, you aren't shy to make a controversial stand."

My brows draw together but it's Rose that answers in withdrawn tone. "She means you and Natasha."

"I believe in the working together initiative." My voice tight.

Zoey raises an eyebrow. "Not the rumour I was referring to."

"The only one that has substance." I return.

She holds up her hands. "Not my business and the only excuse I can make about it is I have a natural nosiness which is why I am suited to the security sector." She reaches out and touches Rose's shoulder. "That's the thing about perceived weaknesses, they can also be your strengths. I have no doubt you'll figure it out and I'll help in any way I can."

"Thank you." Rose says, looking so earnest my heart squeezes.

"Sure." Zoey says lightly but her gaze is serious. "If there's anything else you can think of or just want to talk to someone, call me."

Rose nods, pressing her lips together to try and disguise how much that means to her. She sees her out and then turns back to me, leaning back against the door.

For the first time in days, we're alone and I wish we luxury to enjoy it.

"Hi." She says, searching my face.

I gravitate toward her, unable to help myself, unable to remember if I'm welcomed or not. "Hello."

"Have you been avoiding me?" She asks quietly, looking up into my face, those doe eyes open.

I frown. "No."

She looks away and self-consciously rubs her arm. "I know you've been busy, I've been busy too but I thought…I thought I'd have seen you more."

I place a finger under her chin and coax her back to me. "All I've done is think about you, especially when I should be concentrating on other things. I'll even admit I almost walked into a door yesterday because my mind was elsewhere. I've missed you."

Her lips tilt up although she fights it. "That's a lie. You would never walk into a door."

"You'll just have to trust me."

I hadn't intended it, for the joke to bring the unsaid up between us. The trust I had damaged by not telling her sooner about the compulsion no matter my reasons. I see the realization of it flicker across her face and she takes the hand under her chin.

"I do." She whispers and more of the weight eases. Her eyes drop to my lips and even though everything in me yearns to lean forward, beckon her to close the distance, I step back.

She looks disappointed and maybe I should have stolen that moment because after what I'm about to tell her, what I intend to do, she may be even further from me than she had been these past few days. She might never want to come back.

I take a steadying breath. "I wish that my being here was with the sole intention of seeing you, of finding that time for each other but it isn't." I can't help but be impressed as her expression smooths over and locks me out. A valuable skill, one I wish she hadn't had to learn. "If I told you, it was possible to come with me now, to extract answers, and to exert a portion of the vengeance you deserve, would you?"

She stares at me, with no outer reaction to what I've said or a glimpse of the questions she must have.

Instead, she confirms she'd meant it when she said she trusted me.

"Yes."

---

We don't speak as I lead her through the lodge, down into the service quarters where laundry trolleys are rolled past, and into a neglected stairwell, going deeper under the mountain. I'd made her put on a thicker jumper and some gloves, again she didn't question me.

The temperature drops and the distant rumble of the industrial washing machines fall away. At the bottom of the stairs, a heavy steel door stands between us and the tunnels.

"This is an emergency exit, should the wards ever be breached or should there be the likes of a fire. There are also holding cells from long ago, I don't think anyone has been down here or utilized it in over a decade. We have voiced numerous times for evacuation drills to be practised but…apparently, it ruins the atmosphere for the guests."

I lean my weight into pulling back the lever and remove the other four bolts, two at the top, two at the bottom. It's the same on the other side, designed to keep unwanted things out as well as to block the path should the Lodge be breached. I heave the door open, and Rose leans back, not masking her apprehension or her curiosity. Icy wind seeps through the gap.

I slip through first and she follows with hesitancy. The tunnel is lit by weak yellow lamps spaced out along the walls, a trail to follow.

It said something that Spiridon had allowed me to lock him in down here.

We walk for a few minutes and then Rose speaks. "Most of the people that work here are Dhampir's. There are some Moroi but they're…in the high positions. Like in charge. Have you noticed that?"

The random topic is the only sign she gives of being nervous. "Yes, I have." She nods and I feel her glancing at me so I give her what I can. "Spiridon is waiting for us, we're almost there."

I'd expected their voices as we got closer but there's only silence.

The tunnel splits into two pathways and we veer left. After a few feet an archway looms, it had once homed another door, but it's long gone, and beyond it is a flare of light. Spiridon leans against the wall facing into a cell with a spotlight on the ground in front of him. The beam from it emits directly at the patron in the cell so they're blinded to what's beyond the light, obscuring us from view.

Spiridon watches us approach, knife rotating in between his hands, and I sense Rose fall back from my side.

"I gave our guest a little dose of Ether, help loosen that tongue of his." Spiridon says.

I look into the cell where Stan Alto is bound to a chair. He's conscious, eyes trained down and the blood from his temple has already dried on his cheek. No doubt listening to every sound, gauging footsteps, and the weight behind them.

None of it mattered. He was not leaving here alive.

We let Rose approach in her own time which she does almost silently. The spotlight had mainly been for her benefit, to hide her until, and only if, she wanted her presence known.

When Rose realizes who it is in the cell she stills, that mask slipping off to reveal surprise and the conflict of her instincts, one that has her take a step toward me. She continues to stare and then slowly, her hands curl into fists.

"He can't see you." I murmur.

Stan chooses that moment to let out a short laugh. "He can hear though. Three of you, two men and a female, I'm guessing. Judging by the hesitancy and need for reassurance"

"Clever boy." Spiridon coos but violence lurks below the surface.

"He's been given an alchemist serum that will force him to tell the truth, as he knows it." I tell Rose. Her eyes remain trained on the man who was a tyrant of her childhood. "Any questions you have, he'll answer."

Stans' head cocks, listening.

"And if it wasn't clear already, he won't be putting up any kind of fight about it." Spiridon adds.

I continue watching Rose, trying to deduce something from her face.

"We've taken away his choices." I say quietly and finally, her eyes drag from him to meet mine.

One word drops from her lips, soft in contrast to the crackling wood in her eyes, "Good."

"Young?" Stan speculates and my rage, something colder and assured, strains toward him. I keep it leashed. "All this talk about me giving answers but I don't know why the fuck I'm here, so how about someone answers that?"

"My question might work to partly answer that for you." Spiridon says, pushing off the wall. "Why are you here? And don't be a smart ass about your current location – why are you in Pearl Valley when you should be in the middle of fucking nowhere with Strigoi nipping at your heels?"

Stan squints into the light but drops his chin. "You're the blonde one. The distraction while the other took me out from behind, there's something familiar about that." His jaw flexes as he struggles to fight the Ether, spouting the truth about what he'd been thinking would only delay his need to answer what Spiridon asked. His throat works and it's almost like he's about to wretch. "I'm here to work. The Guard sent me here to work. I was in a Red Zone; it was getting critical until…another legion swept in. We thought we'd been sent reinforcements, but I swear I saw flame used but it might have been the concussion. When I woke up in the infirmary the worst was over. Fifteen Strigoi has been killed and the rest of their nest if there were more fled northward. They didn't come back in the following weeks, and we were all left with our dicks in our hands. One nomad came along and twelve of us kept it alive long enough to at least have a turn. Finally, The Guard saw the surplus, and some of us were reassigned – so that's how I ended up here."

Stan pants and Spiridon and I exchange a look.

"Not here to avenge any prior loyalties you may harbour?" Spiridon asks.

"What fucking loyalties?" He says, drawing himself up to lean back in the chair, eyes closed against the fluorescent glare.

"Really? Nothing coming to mind. Not even something you may feel guilty about that would call for retribution to come knocking?"

"He didn't feel guilt then, he won't feel it now." I say, my voice taking that detached edge. "What he should feel is fear."

Stan starts laughing then, the white of his teeth smeared pink. I'd hit him far harder than I thought unless Spiridon had used force to wake him. Beside me, Rose tenses at the sound.

"Guilt, fear, retribution…what could I have possibly done to earn that?" The bastard laughs again, and I know the pieces are coming together for him, that he's about to lay them out for us. "Arizona. Arizona is why I'm here but why now…and then asking me why I'm posted here as if you bore some influence in my position before. I have an audience with Dashkov's liberators I think, yes, that's why you're concerned about my being here. He's here, isn't he? With his daughter most likely…and the questioning of my loyalties as if I would seek revenge for Lady and Lord Ozera. I would not, not against another Royal Moroi. What would be the point?"

Some tension goes out of Spiridon's frame, but Stan isn't finished with his train of thought. "The one who hit me is the same who took me down in June. Judging from your accent, you're Russian and you're taller than the blonde, I remember that detail. I'm guessing it's you who recognised me then…and the blonde could be none other than Dashkov's loyal dog. Aetos."

"Gold stars." Spiridon responds, lip curling.

Stan snorts and again tries to peer through the light. "But there's a third, a novice, is this the introductory test to Dashkov's service? I heard he bends those to his will in a manner close to this."

My stomach overturns but I don't look at Rose. After this, she will have seen and know everything there is to know about me, all the parts that had remained concealed from her, ones I hinted at when I told her she thinks too much of me. The parts capable of great violence.

Spiridon turns to Rose and without a word he holds out the small blade he's been toying with. She takes it without hesitancy. What Zoey said about the confidence a blade can inspire comes back to me and how Rose had looked formidable holding that short dagger on the green. For more than one reason it had made me want to go to my knees.

Rose steps forward and my fingers drift to my waistband.

"You know me." Stan frowns at her voice, still blinded. She steps closer, fingers white around the blade's handle. Her voice makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "Are you deaf and dumb? If only the second then you're being very rude and if it's the first, then I can say whatever I want."

I feel Spiridon glance at me, confused, but I know she's echoing something he had once said. I know she's taking words that had once made her tremble and turning the weapon around. I know because I had done the same when I'd finally returned the violence my father had invested over the years.

Stan's face creases as he tries to make sense of what she's said and then it goes slack.

"Little girl?"

Rose moves in front of the harsh beam, and he is captive in her shadow. "I am not a little girl."

Stan blinks rapidly, taking her in, and recognition flares in his eyes. Then he lets out a short bark of laughter.

"How the fuck did you survive the woods?"

"You knew Moira had sent her to a Strigoi?" It leaves my mouth as cold as the air down here.

"It might have been my suggestion." Stan replies. "It was a mercy of sorts, that wound she dealt you was going to get infected and eventually poison your blood. A very painful way to die and she would have enjoyed that, seeing what it did to Lucas's Blood Whore –"

Rose darts forward as my finger close around the handle at my back. There's a wet crunch her fist drives into his face, the power coming from her whole body, wrist and elbow aligned – just as I had shown her. Stan's head kicks back, the chair rocking with the force, as blood begins streaming from his nose.

"You do not call her that! You have no right to speak about her." Rose lashes at him. "None."

Spiridon moves the light back to the wall now we're all introduced and there's no need for shadows.

Stan gives Rose a highly indignant look for someone covered in their own blood. "I have been more or less compelled to tell the truth, you stupid bitch. That's what she was, that's what she is. That's what you were going to be and probably are, but I imagine Dashkov is more civilised."

I step forward, "Call her that again, and you will lose your tongue."

"Would defeat the point of giving me Ether, wouldn't it?"

"We don't have that many questions." Spiridon drawls. "Enjoy it while you have it."

"Really? You don't want to know everything that went on there?" Stan asks. "Probably best…it takes a strong stomach, and you all seem sensitive." His shoulders shake as he laughs to himself.

"What's so funny?" Spiridon eyes glints like promised steel.

Stan spits out a mouthful of blood and Rose jumps back. His gaze follows her, lingers too long before swinging to Spiridon.

"You three. What is this little vigilante justice group? Do you think killing me makes a difference?" He chuckles again. "You're upset I'm not in the Red Zones? Suffering – is that what you think I was doing? I've had shittier jobs and made the most of it, I made the most of that one too. Terrible negligence inside the base…if you know what I mean."

A chill sweeps through my blood, stone and steel beckoning me to their fold. Stan's keen eyes land on me. "You know don't you? You've been posted before, before the plush life of a Royal house. You know all about what they turn a blind eye to inside those walls, hell, the commanders are usually in on it."

"What are you talking about?" Rose demands through clenched teeth.

"Ah, little girl. The world is all the same. So very few comforts, whether that be in the middle of a dry desert or in frozen hell hole. Comforts you have to take for yourself, you know all about that." His arms flex as tests his restraints, elbows and wrists bound at his back, each ankle in old shackles embedded to the mountain rock. "Justice too, is something you make for yourself." He flashes his teeth at her and my body is wound tight, ready. "Because nobody gives a fuck, it is all about power and connection which is where you will be shit out of luck. None of us faced a Guard trial or so much as a mark on our records, none of us faced being stripped of our promise marks. The most justice you all got was that Lucas and Moira were outsmarted, scolded, and slapped on the wrists by another Royal who could now blackmail them. Spoiled children taking time out from playing with their toys."

Bile touches the back of my throat as Rose's tormented face, her screaming and trying to escape the car blazes behind my eyes.

Stan smiles at us all. "This is the most you will ever have, enjoy it."

"You're wrong." Spiridon's soft voice breaks the deafening silence. "Things are going to change and go back to how they were before. Men like you, who do have the right to wear the molnija mark, will be stripped of them and made to pay. You have no honour."

"The Aetos name and honour." Stan taunts. "What I've heard about you don't exactly make those things bedfellows."

Spiridon grins and it's terrifying. He reaches down and begins unrolling the black canvas, unveiling a collection of tools. I had never witnessed the real extent of why Spiridon had earned the name 'Dashkov's dog' and I didn't plan to. I certainly wasn't going to let Rose.

Stan marks each piece and the only sign of apprehension is the strained cord in his neck.

"I want to know something." Rose declares in a controlled voice, glancing away from the tools and back to Stan. He grins, welcoming it. "My mother thought that you were taking more notice of me…that you kept looking at me. Was she right to be worried?"

Everything stills.

My breathing, my heart, my mind as I watch Stan watch Rose.

Spiridon pauses.

"Yes." He says, intently watching her face. "And that was before, when she tried to hide you. It wasn't fooling anyone. It was nothing a shower wouldn't reveal, as she knew. You never saw her when he dolled her up, did you? She and the other one, they had their own preparation room in the house. And then to prove her forms of protests weren't working he started to visit her behind the sheet." Stans lips pull back over his red-stained teeth. "There was an order that no one touch you, I can't imagine what she bargained to earn that, she must have used her imagination, but that's an order I didn't plan on following." His eyes roam down and Rose steps back, revulsion and pain blazing on her face. He runs his tongue along his teeth. "You would have fought, and I really would have enjoyed that

"I'm going to enjoy this." The words leave my mouth as the knife leaves my hand.

Stan looks down at the handle protruding from his shoulder as Rose's head snaps around to me.

I step around her and approach him. Delicately I grip the handle and wait for him to look up at me before I begin to rotate it, slowly.

He's not silent this time when his head kicks back.

When I make it a quarter-way clockwise, I release the handle. "A lesson for you, Rose. There is a network of nerves in the shoulder called the brachial plexus and if you apply the right amount of trauma, it feels like liquid fire."

Her eyes pull away from Stan and they're not the depths I know, they're flat. I try not to think about what that means. She steps forward and not so gently closes her fingers around the handle, knuckles turning white. Stan bares his teeth at her and I resist removing them from his head.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Rose whispers and behind us Spiridon has drifted closer. "My back hurt when Guardian Brown was done beating me. It hurt when he killed the only person I had, my only friend and it will hurt when they kill you." Stan jerks as she applies pressure to the buried blade, the dark stain on his shirt spreading. "And when they do that, I will do exactly as you did. I will stand back and leave you to suffer. I will watch you be helpless and know nobody is coming to save you, to make it stop." A pained growl drags through his teeth. "And then I will walk away. Exactly like you did."

There's a squelching sound as she rips away from him, chest rising and falling, and in her gloved hand is my knife. Stan thrashes and curses. Rose just watches him, contempt burning in her eyes and behind her, Spiridon looks mildly impressed.

"But before that, let me take away your comfort."

And before anyone can question that, she reburies the blade into him. This time between his legs. He chokes on his scream before letting it vibrate through the tunnel, far below where anyone will hear, further from where anyone would care.

The primitive part of me recoils, pure male instinct. I don't know if I'm impressed or terrified. Looking at Spiridon I can see both written all over his face.

"The punishment fits the crime." I read off his lips.

The developed and higher functioning part of me agrees.

Spiridon tosses me the short leather strap and Rose walks back slowly, eyes trained on Stan. There's conflict on her face now as she melts back against the tunnel wall. I wrestle the leash into his mouth and fasten it behind his head, muffling the noise he's making.

"So, how should we begin?" He asks and Stan jerks forward as if he'd forgotten he's gagged and bound, unable to inflict anything again.

I consider the range of tools and pick up the scalpel.

"Properly." I murmur, circling around the back of Stan's chair. His arms strain again against the bonds, his outraged noises becoming quieter in my head. I wrench his head forward and the molnija stares up at me. The pointed tip touches skin and he stills. "By removing this mockery."

The blade punctures and I spill more blood. I remove the honor he should have never been bestowed and spent so much time defiling with his life.

When it's over with I meet Spiridon's eye, then beyond him where Rose's hidden again...I wait and let Stan feel the levity of every step that had led him here. Let him filter through those choices and maybe find some remorse.

I let him think worse is coming before I end it.

---

The halls are quiet and all revelling Moroi completely oblivious to everything that had happened under their winter paradise. I gauge it's around dinner time as Rose and I walk back to her room in silence.

Spiridon had remained behind to clean up. He had insisted and I could see he had his own things to work through. He'd pointedly looked beyond the cell to Rose and told me to take her back to her room. The subtext was clear: make sure she can deal with this.

I didn't doubt that she regretted what had happened to him or her decision to stay. What I didn't know was what it meant now.

I had avoided looking at her after.

The primal need to end anything and anyone that had ever caused her harm had been a kinetic agency that I had finally unleashed. There hadn't been a moment where I deliberated or doubted because it was a very stark certainty that Stan, and all the others that had been in service to the Ozera's, had been selected carefully. That they had the experience to attest that they were suited to their roles. Stan had as good as said so himself and he'd also outlined how he'd gone without consequences. He'd watched a child be murdered and done nothing, he'd seen a child be beaten and burned and he'd done nothing...

And hearing him say with such candor how he would enjoy stripping Rose of the very little agency and control she had over herself, that he would enjoy making her feel powerless and bring to life her worst fear…

We let him feel the drop of terror he was responsible for years, and then I had ended it because even though he deserved worse...delivering worse would take something from me. Something I knew would never come back.

And now I had to face Rose with her knowing the extent of what I was capable of. I don't have the excuse of the threat being absolute, of being imminently under attack and retaliating.

I have never been deserving of her. Nobody with the taint of violence can be but even knowing this, I don't regret what I've done. I couldn't let someone like that keep moving through the world. That alone she might understand but it doesn't mean she will still feel the same about me, look at me in the same way.

We reach her door, and she slots in her key card. Silently she walks inside, holding the door open for me to follow. I latch it behind me and watch her move across to the drinks cart. She pours out two tumblers of amber liquid and wordlessly offers me one, her movements quick and nervous. I take it from her, and she walks away to the couch as soon as my finger close around the glass.

Silence follows and there's more than just physical distance between us.

She speaks before I can. "You're going to do that thing where you're worried you've done something to push me away, so you'll do it yourself."

I hadn't expected that. "I am?"

She gestures to where I stand, on the other side of the table, behind the couch opposite her.

"Dimitri…what just happened, I wouldn't change my choice to go with you or anything I did, or what happened to him. I don't even feel guilty about thinking that either so don't worry about having… 'added to my trauma' as Ben likes to keep saying."

"I wasn't worried about that." I admit with a pang of guilt. "Maybe I should be…but the moment I saw him I knew it was something I had to tell you. I couldn't keep that from you."

Her eyes flash. "No, you couldn't."

I slide off my duster and drape it over the sofa. I sit down opposite her and I mean to take a small drink but end up draining it, the slightly sweet, honeyed spice liquor needed more than I realised.

"What is it?" She demands.

Of course, she hasn't yet thought about it, the reality of it all, the cold truth. Seeing Stan was a big enough of a shock. The way he looked at her, even then tied to a chair with his fate barrelling toward him, it was clear why Janine Hathaway had been afraid for her daughter.

"Dimitri, I'm going to lose my temper."

The silence stretches as I rack my brain for where to begin and then realise there is no good starting point, no way to ease into this. There is only the truth.

"I would have gone after him with or without Spiridon, whether Spiridon reported it to Victor or not, and we were ordered to do nothing. Which I don't think is likely but still. I also know I would have gone after him even if you asked me not to because the moment, I saw him I decided. I need you to understand that when I went to Red Zones, it made me value what Galina had taught me to do – to close out my emotions. To become apathetic and calculating, I needed to be that. I've seen people die, I've seen them dragged away into the black mouths of caves and I've made the decision to abandon them because it meant saving the remains of my unit. I've seen what the Strigoi will do for sport, not just to feed. I've walked into homes that had been turned into graveyards…and I could feel nothing."

Fuck, I wish I hadn't drunk the whole thing.

"I need you to understand that when I saw him, I did feel. I felt an old rage I haven't…been taken over by since I last saw my father. It's cold and devouring so I wasn't entirely thinking as I should have been in terms of risk and calculation. As Spiridon was. I need you to understand that these parts of me exist and whilst you bring out the best of me, the need to protect you, can bring out the worst. I'm glad he's dead. I'm glad he suffered."

"So am I." She says, searching my face with a touch of confusion on hers. "I stayed, didn't I? When it would have been easier to walk away...and let it be something I try and pretend never happened. But I felt relieved when I realised he wouldn't be leaving that tunnel when I knew what was going to happen. Spiridon gave me that knife and I felt empowered, knowing I could do anything with it and you both were with me on it. Against him..." She looks down at her drink, fingers trembling slightly. "When he talked about my mother I didn't even think, I just felt all the rage I've ever held back. You said your motivation was everyone who ever laid a hand on me but mine...mine was hurting them. I want to hurt them in every way they ever hurt us and I don't know what that makes me. So maybe that's what you need to hear about me, that I'm not this girl who wants or needs someone to stand in front of me anymore. I am not going to forget or forgive those people; I will remember and repay them."

I stare at her.

She swallows. "You thought what I saw would scare me, didn't you? You thought because I was raised in violence, in every form, that I wouldn't see past that with you. Dimitri, I see all of you. I saw it when you pulled Alec off me, I saw it when you pointed your stake at Zmey – it has never frightened me. But maybe…I'm changing from who you fell in love with and it's you who needs to understand that."

Her eyes search mine, imploring, open.

"The only thing that's changed since I knew I loved you, is how much more I do." I remember when she first said those words to me. She'd said whatever souls are made of I was part of hers, and now I completely understand what she had meant. "Rose, it…it runs so deeply through who I am that if I ever lost you, it would rip out my soul."

Everything I have felt this past week comes bubbling to the surface. Every ounce of desperation and frustration, the exhaustion from lying awake unable to dispel adrenaline, the devastation I haven't been able to out-train, the anger I hadn't been able to close out, and the gaping ache of missing her and knowing I let her down - it all surges needing to be expelled.

I see it reflected on her face, a range of raging emotions and things she'd been struggling with too. How seeing Stan had reopened an old wound and she feared how she chose to treat it would turn me away. That I would see something I could no longer love.

But I am hers.

For the second time, Rose darts forward.

Her hands clasp my face at the same moment her mouth collides with mine. The leftover feeling from those tunnels is chased out by her warmth, the softness of her thighs under my hands as she straddles my hips. I'm pushed back into the cushions and resistless to her demands. When she bites at my lip, I part them obediently to let her in, the glide of her tongue over mine cracking the unbearable tension built over the past days.

She tastes of whiskey, and honeyed spice. A noise rumbles from deep in my chest, desperate for more, needing more.

Needing her.

My hands sail over her thighs and hips to grip her ass and pull her tighter to me. I feel the tug at the back of my head, groan at the feel of her fingers sinking into the strands where they fasten tightly to my scalp.

Rose makes that small noise low in her throat, rotating her hips in a tight circle that sends heat scouring through my blood. My teeth rake over her bottom lip, hers catch my tongue, our kisses devouring and desperate.

I'm not sure who breaks away first or if we shared the same thought but then she's pulling her jumper over her head, the simple shirt she wore underneath going with it. No material stands between me and her skin. My mouth is on her before she's thrown the garments away, her heavy gasp a hot caress in my ear as her hands fist back into my hair. The tug and pull on my scalp spurring on my teeth and tongue to nip and suck harder.

"Dimitri." She pants, hips rocking in my lap.

"They've gotten bigger." I murmur against her skin, breath fanning against the wet spots. My hands glide over her waist, ribs until I have them firmly in my hands.

"Yes." Rose says, her breathing laboured, cheeks flushed. "I've been thinking about when you would notice that."

Her words are loaded with hot insinuation, propelling my mind to think about what she does alone at night, thinking about me.

Roughly I take the peak between my teeth, pulling her hips tighter to mine and she gasps loudly, head falling back. Her loud heavy breaths serve to lift and drop those supple curves in the most captivating way. I switch to her other breast, my fingers raking down her stomach to the button of her jeans.

She shoves me back.

The deep curling, primal desire to haul her down to me is halted by the sight of her straddled above me. Her eyes are dark, lashes lowered as she watches me, chest rising and falling in the most craveable way...and the view – because fuck it is a view – testifies that they have gotten bigger, making the dip of her waist seem smaller and the flare of her hips balancing.

Rose slides off me to stand between my knees, holding eye contact as she shimmies the tight denim down, taking her underwear with it.

"Are you just going to stare?" Her voice is exactly like she tastes, honey and spice.

"You know I like to watch." My voice is thick like smoke.

I wrest off my shirt and Rose's fingers are tugging at my belt, dragging it off where it hits the ground with a heavy thud. No sooner have I undone the button of my jeans is she dragging them down over my hips and thighs. The urgency I feel mirrored in her movement is making the electricity spike and crack, and when she climbs over me, making it very clear how this is going to go, I feel barely in control.

Fuck.

She pushes my shoulders back, holding my eye and reaching between us. Everything in me strains to let go, to let the need and lust and love for her completely take over. But then her fingers wrap around me and I lose the ability to feel anything but it. A groan, low and drawn, stays contained to my throat as everything narrows to her hold, those deft fingers sliding down my cock before drawing back up.

She leans forward, chest brushing mine until her breath fans my lips as she speaks. "So, watch."

I do. I watch her, feel her, guide me along her slick flesh to her entrance, the tip meeting wet, hot, inviting pressure as she bears her hips down.

My mouth falls open with ragged breaths, battling the urge to let my head fall back and eyes close at the sensation of her sliding down onto me, gripping me in that ruining way. Inch by inch, biting her lip, eyebrows drawn, gripping my wrists and watching me until she's fully seated.

"Blyad'." The word leaves me in a harsh exhale.

I grip her hips, caught between the conflict of holding her there and making her move.

"I forgot…" She moans, fingers loosening on my wrists to slide up my arms.

I'm trying to take the reins on the electricity already cracking in my blood, urging my hips to rock. "Forgot what?"

"How… big you are." She says, and then in a rush."How it feels."

My restraint shreds right down to frayed threads. My hips jerk, the movement eliciting a short gasp from her parted lips, the sensation a spark to light the fuse.

Her nails bite into my biceps as she rolls her hips forward, eyes fluttering closed. It plays across her face what each movement does to her, working out what feels best. She leans forward to splay her hands on my chest so she can get more leverage.

She feels like hot silk wrapped around me, heat that I wanted to build until we both incinerated. She rises up and slides back down to the hilt, taking me deep, and it sends a tremor through my entire body. The tempo is tortuous, chipping away at every effort to remain still but it's a challenge and she knows that.

It becomes a battle of will and want, need and avarice, of wanting to breathe and wanting to drown.

I realise she's watching me, reading me how she only can.

She pries my hand from her hip and guides my fingers over her taut stomach and presses it over her breast, dipping her chin to nip at my finger.

"Roza." My voice is a low guttural plea.

She looks at me from under her lashes, cheeks warm. "Mhm?"

She smirks, teasing me, daring me, knowing I'm struggling and that sends a sharp curl through my lower stomach. We stare at each other, the suspended moments begin to cave to that riotous need and she stops smiling, losing the battle too.

She begins moving faster. My hands tighten on her hips, her eyes never leaving mine as our breathing gets heavier. I think I cuss or say her name again as my head falls back, the maddening and mesmerizing feel of her overtaking everything, and her hand moves up to the base of my throat, holding me there as she rides me. That small act snaps another thread, the wild thing in me submitting to being claimed.

I'm pinned as she moves above me, drinking her in as the storm of need, that electricity builds to its breaking point, ready to crack and ignite my very being.

This is one of the few ways I've wanted her, thought about her with hot water pouring down around me and allowing me to fantasize so clearly. Seeing her like this, back arched, every inch of skin exposed to me is incensing.

Everything in her wants this too, wants me, no holding back or hesitation.

Rose moans and I need to taste it, need the hot slide of her tongue against mine, need to feel the moment she realises she's going to come when she can only pant against my mouth.

Or when she says my name and it unleashes something wild, something utterly owned by her.

My fingers sail to the apex of her thighs, my thumb brushing over that sensitive bundle as the heel of my palm presses into her lower belly. She gasps, her rhythm interrupted and the hand at my throat slides away so I can bolt upright, smother her groan with my own as my mouth collides with hers. Her body shudders, fingers clutching my shoulders as my arm hooks around her lower back so I can press my palm harder into her stomach

Rose whimpers, her inner muscles fluttering in response to the pressure.

There's a moment in which our eyes lock, molten fire colliding, creating a force that cannot be held.

Roza runs the tip of her tongue against my lip and it breaks the suspended state. My tongue tangles with hers as sensation rockets, too much and not enough as our movements become frenzied but somehow working together, chasing release.

"Oh, oh god." She gasps, the hold in my hair tightening, everything about her tightening.

"Blyad, Roza."

She cries out as that silken heat seizes me in tight, vice-like pulses, causing my hips to buck in retaliation as the charge in my blood crests and explodes. My shout is lost in the curve of her neck, my mind erased of every thought and fear for the first time in days.

All there is, is her.

---

It takes me a small eternity to return to myself. Every ounce of stress and tension of this past week depleted from my body. The longing and need for her, to be with her, sated for now. It'll likely return as the minutes pass.

Rose is stretched out over my chest, her heavy breaths beating against my neck as my heart rate slowly returns to normal. I flex my arms around her and in return, her fingers press into my sides.

After a minute she lifts her head and brushes her lips against mine.

"I think…I think my legs are going to be in bad shape tomorrow." It's so unexpected I start laughing and then she does too. "I'm serious. I did legs with Mason, then skied…this has made my massage redundant."

"I'll give you another one." I say, kissing her again, getting carried away in it until she pulls back.

"So…you can stay?" She asks with a touch of vulnerability in her tone.

As if I would leave her now. As if I could.

Some of her hair has come out of the braids.

"Yes, I can stay." I tell her mildly, removing the bands and unraveling the patterns. "Spiridon's taken us off public duty…it was mostly for show anyway."

"What do you mean?"

The waves brush over her chest as the rest of her hair comes loose.

She's so beautiful. It physically makes me ache how beautiful she is, it's her eyes…it's always been her eyes. You can fall into them if she lets you. I'd always thought of fire as one elemental thing until her, a means to destroy. But hers is the warmth of a campfire that two boys struggled to make in the depths of a Serbian forest, it can be the heat that forges and strengthens parts that have been damaged and worn, it's an all-consuming allure to know what flickers in the depths. It's a determined kindness and resilience. Sometimes it becomes that warning blaze, a vivid promise that she's going to give you a piece of her mind and you might not recover from it.

"I love how you look at me." She murmurs, fingers trailing up my chest.

I open my mouth as if I can explain why I'll be looking at her forever but words seem insubstantial. Instead, I kiss her softly, once, twice, and then answer her question.

"Public duty, when in a private contract, isn't expected or required but it makes for a significant gesture when a Royal offers his two best to it." The bitterness in my voice surprises me more than her. I soften what I say next. "I don't mind it, if it offers a sense of comfort to some then at least there's that but…it was nice being active again. Being in the barracks or overhearing the conversation in the cafeteria."

"Being around other Dhampirs?"

"Yes."

"Not being cooped up in a house."

"Yes." I admit, twisting her hair around my finger. "But that hasn't felt so…stifling as of late."

She smiles a little. "I wonder why."

I notice the skin of her arms has pimpled and rub my hands over them. "Let's go to bed."

The look she gives me means those minutes are draining down. She climbs off and squeals when I'm possessed by the urge to bite her ass, running into the joining room. It's easier to pull my trousers up, collect two bottles of water and then undress in the bedroom, where she's already slid under the covers.

"I feel like that too." She says, watching me undo the lace of my boots. "Being in the house even though…being here and around a lot of people has been weird. No, I've been fine, honestly, Lissa and Natalie have been really good about it. But it does make me think about the future and what I'll do when they go to college, and I'm stuck. That's why I talked to Zoey or rather…Ben asked her to talk to me."

"He did?" I ask, kicking off my trousers and ignoring how she's momentarily distracted. I lift the covers and get in.

Roza's eyes finally lift to my face, and I try not to smirk. "Yeah, um, because she's from a community too, because you know I'm meant to be, but she's accomplished so much without having gone to a school like other novices."

"I didn't know that. She is incredible, she and Ben will do amazing things for everyone with their minds combined. If the Coalition listens."

Which is where Victor is right now, Gentleman's night with a lot of brandy, cigars, and discussions about being the men on top of the world. It's why Spiridon and I can be amiss; we're not expected to be with him nor is any Guardian unless they're guarding the doors outside the room. It's Victor's time to work.

"It's really…stupid that everything is decided by those few Moroi who don't –" She searches for the words.

"Know how bad it is?" I supply, tracing a pattern between her breasts, lower, noticing the glow to her skin and how much softer it is.

"Yeah. Earlier, Stan was talking about The Circle wasn't he? Even though he didn't realise it was Moroi, a fire user, that had come to help."

"I would guess so. I'll need to talk to Spiridon about that…The Guard might already know. If they would have taken first-hand accounts of what happened. There's a lot they're not disclosing lately. I suspect that's down to political input – not cause alarm when they can lie about it and pretend."

She catches my hand on her stomach. "That's distracting."

"Is it? I thought we were holding the conversation well." She gives me that look again, a small tilt of her lips, lashes lowered conspiratorially.

I link our fingers because I do want to keep talking. The after-glow of releasing all that pent-up tension dims as we stare at each other, reality an unavoidable presence waiting for us to acknowledge it. We have to address what we've done, and I need to be certain that she is as okay as she seems.

She senses the shift and wets her bottom lip. "Dimitri, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" And I make myself say it, the blunt and unavoidable truth. "You watched Spiridon and I murder someone. You watched...me murder someone."

I wait for those eyes to shutter and lock me out, but her gaze remains clear. "Yes, I know. I was there."

I keep pushing because I have to. "Yes, you were which makes you an accessory to murder. If and it's a very big if, what we did was discovered, do you realise the levity of what would happen?"

"Stop talking to me like that." She orders and then pauses, searching for the words. "I know what we did. I also know that if we didn't he would still be out there, hurting people instead of protecting them. I know what he meant about comforts, I thought I made that clear when I stabbed him. If, and yes, you're right it is a big if because we know real punishment is absent around here, what we did is found out then I still won't regret it. I'll tell them why and who he was and what he's done. So yes, I am okay. I will be."

She searches my face, her finger loosening around mine. "Does that bother you?"

I exhale. "No. It doesn't bother me."

"Then why are you still looking at me like that?"

"Because, and it feels strange to be saying this all things considered, but I'm in awe of you and I think it's fair of me to ask and keep asking. You hide things too well, lyubimaya." She looks away to the ceiling. "I'm not blaming you for anything, that's not what I mean, but after what happened I can't not ask."

She swallows. "We worry about each other, that's part of it."

I smile faintly at the use of my words. "Yes. Always. We need to tell each other if we're struggling, if something is hurting us because we can't keep secrets." She continues staring at the ceiling. "Roza."

She turns those eyes on me. "Isn't it funny that you're worried about what I think of you, and I was worried about what you would think about me?" I wait and she sighs. "I'm not struggling...I don't think nothing of it, it's not nothing but I can live with it. I meant what I said about making people pay for what they did."

Her voice is quiet but resolute, looking at me with apprehension as if what I think of her holds a chance of changing.

"I believe you. I'm with you." I promise.

She leans toward me and brushes her lips over lips mine, then the tip of her tongue. Everything in me strains to let go of conscious thought, to just be with her and not the growing list of things we have to deal with, but there's one other thing that needs to be discussed.

"I need to tell you something else." She leans back and my fingers trace soothing circles on her stomach. "Victor asked me something that I should have had the answer to if I'd spent any time with Natasha, which I haven't. I've been on patrols or with him – "

"Or leaving me gifts." She injects, referencing the chocolates I'd left for her to find. The same Belgium brand from the market is sold here. Maybe I'd given into selfish impulse more than once and visited her room with excuses.

"Yes. So, he's tasked me to find out what he wants to know. I have to go to dinner with her tomorrow."

Immediately the atmosphere between us changes. "Dinner?" I nod and she looks at a point beyond me to glare at it. "At a restaurant or in her room?"

I name the place and when she doesn't relax, I kiss her shoulder. "Remember, I'm lying. Doing a job."

"Why don't you sound so sure about that?"

"Because I don't like it. I think I was a bit too optimistic about my ability to separate the two. I feel guilty because if I were to be taking someone to dinner it should be you. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about how you must feel when you see her, who and what she reminds you of. Where she reminds you of." She softens and I take a deep breath. "I also don't like that it will be public. In Montana it would be different, if we went somewhere, it wouldn't be around so many people who are familiar with her."

She clenches her jaw. "People who will assume you are together."

"Most likely."

It's quiet for a few minutes as we both wrestle with that and what else they will assume slithers around the back of my mind. I ignore it.

"Okay. Okay. It isn't real, this is real. You're for me. And I'm for you and that's what matters." She says finally.

"That's all that matters." She nods but still doesn't look reassured, only pissed off. "I'll tell you everything afterward."

I run my fingertips up her spine, over raised lines, and nicks. After a few minutes she begins to relax and the tension leaves her mouth. Her skin feels velvety, and I remember she was at the spa earlier…it's also why she smells faintly of almonds or something close.

"Did you enjoy today with the girls?" I ask softly.

She hesitates but allows the change of topic. "Yeah, It was strange at the start but Lissa and Natalie helped. Lissa persuaded them to let us all stay together, and Natalie did not stop talking about the ball and people coming so I couldn't overthink. Waxing was the weirdest part."

My fingers pause. "Waxing?"

Her lips twitch. "Mhm, my legs and…other parts because of the swimsuit. The pedicure was my favourite."

Other parts.

Her foot slides up my leg. "Didn't you notice?"

She smiles coly, cheeks warming again, and it makes her eyes look like pure chocolate.

I close out the rest, focusing on only her. On us.

"I think I failed to observe properly so saying that –" I quickly shift onto my knees, the covers lifting with me and she giggles, squirming to cover herself. I take hold of her ankles and run my hands up her satiny calves, making sure to appreciate what I hadn't in the wildness of before. Rose bites her lip as I reach her knees and I raise an eyebrow. My fingers trail down either side of her thighs, coaxing, and she parts her legs for me, shyness touching her face.

A satisfied noise rumbles from my chest and she shakes with silent laughter, from nerves or because I'm a ridiculous caveman.

I place her feet back on the bed, on either side of me, and keep her legs bent. I lean forward to kiss her knee.

"Do you like it?" She asks in a tight voice, holding back more laughter.

"It's very pretty."

It sounds like she chokes. "Pretty?"

My nose skims against her skin until I reach mid-thigh, kissing there, and hear her breath catch.

"Didn't we establish I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean?"

"That doesn't mean you're right all the time."

"Doesn't mean I'm wrong either."

"You're – "

Whatever I am is cut off as I reach the highest part of her inner thigh, kissing the pinkened skin there. I continue you up over her hip, tongue and touch appreciating until her arms move away from her chest to curl around my neck.

---

Notes:

Update

Whilst this is my story I do fundamentally care and am very grateful to those who have been here for years and have shown nothing but support and encouragement so that's why I want to give some insight into my process here.

It's worth bearing in mind that this is an A/U based on a breakdown of society and a power vacuum where unlawful/unhonourable and inhumane activities flourish, a reality seen throughout this story whenever our protagonists leave the bubble of Victor's mansion. Some of the guest reaction to Stan's death has been surprising - it was not for shock factor or for flare, it is supposed to be a turning point for Roses' character where she faces a man who terrorized her most of her life (who also terrorized and gravely assaulted others and was paid to do so, who the system allowed to go amiss and who Victor didn't take any action against).

It was supposed to be a part of the justice she was always going to take for herself for the others and for Eddie (who died very graphically and brutally, a violent horrific scene I surprisingly did not receive this kind of reaction for). It was a girl standing in front of a man who brutalized her and represented everything her mother had to shield her from with a lot of sacrifices. It wasn't a torture scene, it was an interrogation and I ended up killing him quickly so more lines can't be crossed. In societies where there is a breakdown in power, social order, no accountability for war crimes, and a state of open warfare with second-class citizens, scenes like these are commonplace ( with beloved characters doing the same- Sansa and Ramsey, Feyre and the Suriel, etc etc). Even outside of this fictional story, human realities of justice, revenge and accountability are streaked with gray and this story does not shy away from the ugliness of that or the reality of trauma.

So that's my reasoning as an author.

I would also like to thank those readers who have related Rose's story to their own trauma, those who confide in different languages - you are seen, and you're courage and openness is appreciated and valued. It is humbling to hear that people from all over can find strength, comfort and understanding from what I'm writing.

I previously stated that part 2 would come on Saturday, which would be Dimitri thinking through what his role is with Victor, what he had to do because of the absence of justice along with more surprising turns but I feel it is best to give this chapter a bit more time to sit with all of us and update early next week. Thank you to everyone respectfully contributing to the conversation. It's so important to me as I get ready to rewrite and hopefully launch my own independent story.

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S/O to Maddy for her notes and for always wanting more for Spiridon, i.e happiness. 💖

- This chapter while significantly long took me a bit longer because I wrote an 8k oneshot for p...a...t...r...e...o...n , centering around Rose's 8th birthday on the estate and giving an insight into her relationship with Janine / how utterly fucking awful Lucas Ozera is. Something alluded to in Stan's monologue and 'preparation rooms'.
- Ben's nifty fifties also features in another one shot where Spiridon makes something explode.
- Zmey oneshot also details more about the Strigoi nest in the mountain regions

Commissioned art of Rose is now the avatar and on the TMIF insta, check her out.