"You decapitated all of them?"

"Yeah," Jane mumbles through a mouth stuffed to the brim with gingerbread people heads. "I was just going to eat one, but it was so tasty I couldn't stop."

"Why are you eating just the heads?"

"They have the most frosting," she answers, still chewing.

I snatch a cookie out of her hand, frowning at all the work it took to make, bake, and decorate these—now headless—gingerbread people. "You're ruining the batch for everyone else!"

Jane finally stops desecrating my baking and takes a seat at a nearby table. Day two of the Freyja festival is focused solely on food, and no amount of persuading from the women of Hydra could keep me out of the kitchens. If anything, cooking is the only thing keeping me sane right now.

Jane clears her throat. "Any word on Gail's whereabouts?"

"Nope," I answer curtly. "I'd rather not think about last night, thanks."

Chaos. Last night was utter and complete chaos. Multiple women had to ban together to magically restrain Gail as she tried to rush Martha to—if her threats are to be believed—dismantle her DNA with magic. I'm not even sure when Gail's threats turned into tears, or when she finally fled into the night, or when Ben slipped away among the commotion for his own safety. Maya was able to calm everyone down, and I used the distraction to set out to the longhouse to talk to Ben. But when I opened the door to my room, he was sitting motionless at the edge of my bed with the most horrifying blank expression. No matter what he asked, no matter how I answered, nothing was good enough to keep him from leaving. "You asked me once not to follow you," he said when I attempted to trail behind him to his boat docked at the beach. "I am asking you now to show me that same courtesy."

It feels like everyone is mad at me. In reality, only Ben and Gail are mad at me, but that somehow makes it worse. Now, all I can do to calm my anxiety is cook food for other people until my body collapses from exhaustion.

Day 3 of the Freyja festival passes by in a blur. So does day 4, 5, and 6.

The 7th day, however, stays with me long after it's concluded. Day 7—the final festival day—consists of all women gathering on the beach and screaming up at the full moon. When the first woman starts screaming, I startle. But when ten other women throw their heads back and scream, I'm less frightened than I am confused. It isn't until everyone—Alex, Hazel, Claire, Kate, Jane, everyone—throws their head back and screams like they're being murdered, that I start to become frightened again. I feel their pain like an itch that snowballs into a burn. From the looks of it, the younger women treat this ritual like a game, and their screams are often interrupted by laughter as they stretch and contort their faces to amuse each other. The women, however, take this ritual very seriously. I've never been to a rage room, but this seems to have the same effect. Every inch of me is uncomfortable as I watch Kate stop screaming and start crying. She's obviously confused, evident by the way she resists the comfort of the older women all around her, but she eventually gives in when Sun starts weeping, then Claire, then Shannon. I watch as the elders of Hydra comfort them with words and warm embraces.

I'm not cut out for this. I don't even know what the hell is going on. Gail's gone, so I can't ask her, and Maya is busy consoling the very unsettled survivors. I'm filled with a desire to talk to Ben, but he's back at the barracks and specifically asked me not to follow him. But that was a week ago. Maybe he's waiting for me to apologize?

First thing in the morning, I convince myself to paddle to the mainland and hike to the barracks to give Ben a formal apology face-to-face. I have no idea why I would willingly marry the person who caused him so much pain and grief throughout his childhood, but I did, and there's nothing I can do about that now.

But is that true? Can I change the future? I've changed my visions a few times so far, so do the laws of space and time not apply to me? I don't have answers, no matter how much I want them.

I'm halfway to the beach when Alex falls in step beside me, wishing me a good morning. It's such a shock to see her, I can't think up a good excuse for wanting to go to the mainland alone.

"Why wouldn't I come with you?" I should thank my lucky stars her question doesn't sound suspicious, just genuinely confused. "I want to go home. You know, check in on dad."

I try my best to sound genuine when I laugh, but inside my gut is roiling with extra anxiety. I was already nervous enough, but Alex tagging along brings a whole new set of worry. "Yeah, of course," I say a little too enthusiastically. "Let's get going before it gets dark."

I truly can't tell if Ben's pissed off or just mildly annoyed I'm here. "Alex," he says, "can you please get me a tomato?" As soon as she's outside, Ben whirls around and whispers, "What are you doing here?"

Okay. Pissed off. He's definitely pissed off. "I'm sorry, but I was trying to sneak away and Alex caught me and—"

"I'm not asking why Alex is here," he snaps. "She lives here. Why are you here?" If there was any doubt as to his mood before, it's made crystal clear as his angry eyes dart from me to the front door, his entire expression softening at the sight of Alex returning with a ripe tomato in hand.

Ben doesn't say another word to me for the rest of dinner.

Alex is asleep in her bed, snoring softly as I war against my own body.

Sweat drips into my eyes and stings no matter how much I wipe at them. It's well past midnight, but I'm wide away, stewing with sweat in my cocoon of blankets on the floor. It was much easier to fall asleep on Hydra with all those miles between us. But now? As much as I try, I can't fall asleep.

Using the tiny sliver of moonlight peeking through a gap in the curtains, I navigate my way up and out the door, closing it silently behind me. Being free of those stifling blankets has only offered a small modicum of relief from what's ailing me. There's only one thing that can stop the ache, and he's just across the hall.

"Cora?"

I blink at Ben in the darkness, unsure of when I went into his room, or for how long I've been staring at him as he sleeps. In an attempt to course correct, I bring up a hand in a quick wave. "Hi."

His eyes dart behind me and confirms I've closed the door. "What are you doing in here?"

"Alex is asleep."

"Okay," he says, sounding both confused and annoyed. "And up until just now, I was too."

Shit. This is not how I imagined this would go. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want me to go?"

Ben slowly sits up until his back is resting against the headboard, his face an unreadable mask. "Please tell me you didn't sneak in here to seduce me. Are you insane," he whispers sharply in the dark when I don't answer. "No, I mean, are you actually insane?"

"I'm sorry."

"Your sorry means nothing. My one rule is this never happens when Alex is home. And besides," he adds snidely, "I asked you for some space. Cora, this is not okay."

Shit, shit, shit. What is wrong with me? "I know."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because nothing else is working," I hiss with intense frustration.

Ben tilts his head slightly, like Fenrir when he's confused. "Nothing else is working?"

"Yeah," I say as sarcastically as I can, "nothing else is working. What do you think I'm talking about?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He doesn't feel it. He doesn't feel the pull like I do. Holy shit, this is embarrassing. Does that mean he doesn't love me anymore? How do I get him to love me again?

"I want you," I say a little too loudly, and he leaps out of bed to place a hand over my mouth. I want you, I say in his mind. I thought maybe if I just thought of gross things the feeling would go away, but nothing I did would stop your face from flashing behind my eyelids and I'm sorry this is so messed up but I'm no better than a man and I feel like if I don't have you right this second I'm going to lose my mind.

Are you trying to seduce your way out of an apology?

No! I'm just. . . You want me to say sorry? Sorry for what? I'm just as shocked and horrified by this news as you are! I can't explain why I married Gail because I never would have married the person who put you through all that pain and torment. I can't speak for what that Cora did, but the Cora of right now would never even consider it!

It feels like a lifetime before Ben speaks, but this time, his voice is an audible whisper. "Why are you here?"

I can't think of anything to say except the truth. "I miss you."

"I know," he says as if it were obvious. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

I don't understand. Is he not mad at me? He doesn't sound like he's mad, and he doesn't look like he's mad, but am I just reading this wrong? "Are you. . . are you not mad at me?"

"I was," he admits with a twitch of his eyebrows. "For about two days."

A week's worth of tension leaves my coiled muscles, and I relax my body for the first time since he left Hydra. "Two days?" I whine to really lay on how desperate I am to touch him. "But it's been a whole week."

Ben's expression doesn't give him away, but the humor in his voice does. "This is surprisingly better than an apology. But we can't do this," he whispers mischievously. "We would have to be. . . quiet."

"I can be quiet."

"No you can't."

I don't mean to yell, I really don't. But sometimes he's just so aggravating and contrarian. "Yes, I can!"

Ben presses a hand against my lips again. "Shhh," he whispers, barely audible even in the silence. "Didn't I just say you couldn't be quiet?"

There's a moment of hesitation before I pull his hand away and lean in until his lips are on mine. His kiss is soft at first, but once he realizes I'm not resisting, it quickly grows into something powerful and consuming.

Oh! I totally forgot, but happy belated birthday! Were you just not going to mention we have the same birthday?

No.

Why not?

Who cares about a mortal man's birthday?

I care! I would have made you something!

You don't need to make me anything.

Yes, I do! I'm way behind on gifts if I have any hope to catch up to the amount of jewelry you've made me. What do you want? If I make you something?

A shirt.

A shirt?

Husbands make their wives jewelry, wives make their husbands clothing.

Okay, but I make absolutely no promises it'll look good. So. . . how does it feel to be 40?

About the same as when I was your age.

Damn. You must have really good knees if you feel as spry at 40 as you did at 21.

You're not 21. You're 30.

I am not!

Sorry, my mistake. You're 29.

I'm 21.

Sure, okay. Twenty-one-hundred.

What are you talking about? I'm 21. As in legal adult?

You. . . no. . . no, you died and were reborn in 1977.

I may have died in 1977, but I was reborn 21 years ago.

"What?" Ben pulls away with a smack, releases me in what looks suspiciously like a flinch, and takes a big step back. "If this is a game, it's not funny."

"I mean…no?" I try to lie, though it's no use. "I'm definitely much older than 21."

"Ohhh," he says all in a rush of relief. "Gail's put you up to this didn't she? This is her final trial, right?"

Trial? I'm so confused by what he's saying, I can't think of a convincing response in a timely manner, and now he knows I'm lying.

Ben stares at me for so long I eventually realize he's not actually staring at me at all. He's staring off into space, completely checked out. Eventually, he starts mumbling to himself as he bends his fingers in some kind of tally. However he tries to rationalize it, it obviously doesn't work because he just ends up more upset than before.

"Put on your darkest clothing," he says, finally breaking the silence. "You and I are going to have a long-overdue chat with Gail."

"But I don't know where she is."

"No," he says, but he can't seem to look me in the eye anymore. "But I do."

"Shhh," Ben reminds me for the second time.

"Sorry," I silently mouth in the scant moonlight. As he continues to carefully guide us through brush and vines and densely packed bamboo, my fingers reach out until they make contact with his arm.

Where are we going?

I told you not to ask me until we get there.

That defeats the point of asking beforehand.

Ben stops and shoots me an unamused frown, and I drop the subject.

Wherever we're going, it's a big deal. Ben is dressed all in black, and he made me wake Alex to let her know there was an emergency meeting at the Temple, even though we're not headed towards the Temple. Even his footsteps seem carefully planned out, as to make the least amount of noise as possible.

Turns out Ben's taking me to the Staff Station, hidden deep in the jungle, tunneled into the side of a hill. I watch as he opens a secret door hidden by a tangled mess of vines and nods for me to go ahead. I hear him close the door behind us, and we fall into complete darkness.

Ben's messing with something. There's a squeak of a hinge, a clank, and then a beam of light shoots through the darkness and lands on my face.

"Thank you for blinding me," I say, squinting. "I appreciate it."

Ben moves the flashlight down towards the floor. "Sorry. I don't know why Gail has all the lights off." He shines the flashlight onto a little metal box on the side of the wall and pulls up on a switch. A pale glow illuminates the area.

I follow him down a flight of stairs into a cold, poorly lit hallway. Yellowed overhead lamps crackle and flicker with the effort to light up the station.

I remember this was the station Claire was kidnapped and taken to operate on, but that never happened in this reality. Reality. Hm. I guess I've accepted whatever this life is as reality.

As Ben walks through the eerie station, I expect him to make some kind of announcement—like the plea don't shoot us he made in the original show to Mikhail—but Ben just bursts through the double doors and storms down the hallway yelling Gail's name.

Gail appears out of thin air, like a ghost. "We don't have a meeting planned, Linus. Why are you disturbing my peace? Can I not have a full week in which you're not trying to—" Gail cuts off the second she sees me standing behind him. "Why did you bring her here?"

Ben unfastens the tie straps of his jacket, balling up the garment and throwing it violently on the ground. "Let's go, Gail. I've been waiting for this my entire life. Just you and me."

From the dismissive sound of her laugh, I'm worried Ben is in way over his head. Gail brings a hand up to her temple like she's trying to massage the sound of his voice out of her mind. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"We're fighting," he explains, and then he rushes her.

I don't even have time to tell him to stop before Gail flicks a finger and sends him flying across the room in the opposite direction. After his body slides down the far wall and crumples to the floor, all I hear is Ben's distant groans of pain.

"Men are impulsive and overemotional," Gail complains, turning fully to give me her attention. "I don't know why you like them."

My first instinct is to shame Gail and protect Ben, but honestly? I finally understand why Ben's afraid of her. Gail's command of magic is stronger than any other woman I've seen on Hydra, and I'm not sure even I could rival her. At least not right now.

Ben limps back into the room like a kicked puppy, switching to French as he unloads more complaints.

Gail's expression shifts from amusement to confusion as she turns to me. "You're not 21," she says confidently.

"Yes, I am."

Gail shakes her head no, but her smile wains with concern. "You died in 1977."

"It doesn't matter when I died," I tell her. "I was reborn 21 years ago."

Gail's entire face darkens in shock. "Oh, Hel help me," she whispers.

"See?" Ben's furious voice echoes throughout the empty Dharma station. "You married me to a child, you absolute lunatic!"

"I'm not a child," I interrupt, insulted. "21 is a legal adult."

"No," he says, pausing his argument with Gail to turn his attention towards me. "21 is only 3 years removed from 18. 18 is only 2 years removed from 16. My daughter is 16!"

I try to argue that he's not making any sense, and that I'm a combined 5 years older than Alex, but then it hits me. I get it. I can see how this would freak him out, thinking someone is pushing 30 when they're actually closer to their teenage daughters age. In fact, my cheeks redden at the thought of him being upset about this. I'm so relieved he's not creepy. Damn, the bar is in Hell.

It doesn't matter anyway. Ben and Gail are arguing in French and aren't even paying attention to anything I say.

Finally, I get a snippet of English. "I was training him to be worthy of you," Gail argues, and I realize she's talking to me. "If I wanted to kill him, I would have killed him. Yet, here he is! Unscathed and ungrateful, as usual."

"Am I supposed to thank you for not killing me?" Up to this point, Ben's been surprisingly animated—flailing his arms and shouting—but he's calmed down, at least for now. "If there is one thing I know about Gail," he tells me, "it's that she will not spare you if you slight her. Not even if you're a Goddess."

All the lights flicker at the same time as glass bulbs shatter and tinkle overhead, raining down on the otherwise silent room. I've never felt such a surge of magic from anyone before. "How dare you," Gail seethes through clenched teeth. "I am her soulmate, and as such, I put her well-being over my own happiness. Unlike some."

"Don't make me laugh! I'm obviously her soulmate." Ben's smug smile drops with worry as he jerks his head over to look at me for confirmation. "Right?"

Gail let's out a loud cackle and flairs bright with magic. "Why are you always so petulant? Of course she thinks she's in love with you! You won't leave her alone for five seconds so she can think clearly!" With each word, Gail's voice elongates and deepens into something etherial and firm. "What Cora and I have is so much more than your pathetic attempts at courtship. Anyone can rut in the dirt like mindless animals. What we have is a spiritual connection."

"Oh?" Ben's entire expression lights up at this news. "Because it sounds to me like you're just a really bad lay."

This sends Gail into a rage and they both start arguing all over again about who has the most intimate relationship with me. I can't even understand half of what they're saying.

I blink back into the conversation just in time to hear Gail scoff, "Ridiculous. I treated you with more respect than you deserved."

"More of nothing is still nothing," Ben yells. "You treated me like trash!"

"I did not! I can't believe you would do this to me in front of her, after everything I've sacrificed for you! You've always been so ungrateful!"

"For what, Gail? All the times you found a way to make my life worse?"

"STOP!" Finally, the station is blissfully silent. It's so abruptly quiet, my ears ring from the previous screaming match. I stare from one to the other, daring them to piss me off by bickering further. "Can one of you please calmly explain what the hell is going on?"

"Gail," Ben says with the most irritated expression I've ever seen, "we have to tell her about the Coven."

"Linus, I'll end you right now if you continue this nonsense."

"You can't end me," Ben refutes with a loud laugh. "Cora's watching!" He swiftly turns to give me another sad-eyed frown and points an accusatory finger at Gail. "See? Gail's been trying to kill me off ever since your rebirth!"

"So like a man," she sneers, calm as ever. "Thinking everything is about you."

It's weird hearing him swear, but Ben doesn't even blink when he asks, "What kind of horseshit have you been telling her when I'm not around? Why is it when I take one step forward it feels like I'm taking two steps back?"

"Oh, Linus," Gail sighs. "What are you yapping about now?"

"Cora still doesn't trust me," he yells, but it comes out more like a tantrum than a threat.

"Of course she doesn't trust you," Gail scoffs. "You're a man."

It looks like Ben has more to yell, but he gives up. His voice is measured when he says, "Gail, we have to tell her."

"No," Gail immediately snaps. "She's not ready."

Now it's my turn to yell, "Stop talking about me as if I'm not here!"

"Cora, listen to me." Gail's voice and expression softens when she turns away from Ben. "You're young. Inexperienced. You're not ready to know about everything that happens on this island."

"Yes, she is," Ben argues. "I've been telling you that for weeks! Cora is ready whether you want to admit it or not."

"Ready for what?" I repeat, but my question is drowned out again and again as they continue to argue.

"You know what? I don't need your permission." Ben stands up straight, but it doesn't accomplish much because Gail is taller than he is. "I'm going to tell her anyway, and you can't stop me."

"Cora," Gail cuts in, "what your sniveling husband is trying to tell you is he's a serial killer. There! I beat you to it, you worm."

"Oh," Ben responds in a sarcastic drawl, "well when you put it that way it sounds bad."

What the actual hell is going on? I stare at Ben in horror. "What do you mean you're a serial killer?"

"Cora, I don't kill people," he answers proudly. "I hunt monsters. It's not the same thing."

"Are the monsters. . . human?"

"I don't consider them human." As I continue to stare at him, I can only imagine the shock and horror on my face right now, because Ben quickly starts explaining in more detail. "Team Bear isn't just a sports team. We're a specially curated and expertly trained organization of assassins. Our duty to the island is to weed out adults who would—" His words clip off as he thinks of the best way to phrase it. "—harm children. And then we. . . make them disappear."

I'm so happy to learn the details that I get a rush of blood to the head and almost pass out. "That's your big secret? You kill child abusers?" I'm smiling ear to ear. Oh thank God. Murder is wrong, sure, but I can at least wrap my head around this specific case. "That's fantastic!"

"I'm glad you think so." Ben's entire being perks up at my encouragement, until he looks like a young boy unsure of how to react to all this praise. "Thankfully," he continues, straightening his posture even more and making sure to shoot Gail a brief smug smile, "by definition, they're not child abusers. Team Bear ensures they never get the chance to live out their depravity."

"How?"

"We're the male sect of the Coven of Mother Bears," he happily explains. "Usually, people make tribute to their favorite of the four forms, but we worship you in all your forms, since it takes Love, War, and Death to protect Life."

"We wish the world were not this way," Gail cuts in, "but it is."

I listen as the both of them take turns interrupting each other as they tell me how the women can fend for themselves on Hydra, just as Team Bear can police the men at the Temple. But it takes both mothers and fathers to protect the children of Hydra. Through a delicate thread of communication chains, Team Bear keeps an eye and an ear out for men who voice predatory opinions about children, and then they abduct the men and bring them to stand judgement against the Coven, who use magic to confirm these thoughts are true.

"Then what?" I ask.

"Then," Ben explains with an ever-growing smile, "we make them disappear."

Okay, so I guess this is technically murder, but it's kinda difficult to blame him. I think defending the most vulnerable among us who cannot defend themselves is the most admirable thing you could do. "But where do you put their remains? Aren't you afraid that Miles will stumble across a body and read their final thoughts?"

"No," Ben quips confidently. "Dead things have a bad habit of not staying buried here. It was my idea to hide the bodies in this station, where absolutely no one would think to look. Most people don't even realize this station exists. And the few who do are all too superstitious to come close, let alone inside. Not that they can access this station without the required keycard anyway."

"Wow," I praise, just so I can see a surge of happiness in his eyes. "That was a really good idea! And you do the same on Hydra?"

"Yes," Gail confirms. "Although, to a ridiculously lesser extent. Men and women both have the potential to be monsters, but men have statistically posed a much greater threat. Again," she cuts in, shooting Ben a scathing look, "I don't know why you like them."

Ben turns to her, hissing, "Because Cora is my soulmate!"

"She was my soulmate first, you horrible little man!"

"Hey! HEY!" I don't think I've ever screamed this much in my entire life. "Gail? Gail! Put him down! NOW!"

"Thank you," Ben huffs from where he's hanging upside down, suspended in the air by the force of Gail's magic.

I watch as Gail goes through all the stages of grief. "But you're my soulmate," she concludes weakly.

Jesus Christ, they're so much older than I am. Why am I having to parent them? "Yes," I soothe, slowly approaching with my hands up. "And you are mine. . . but so is he. So I don't want you hurting each other. Okay? Put him down, Gail."

With a defeated sigh, Gail spins Ben back around and lowers him to his feet. "Fine," she relents. "I knew this would happen anyway. That was always part of the deal." Gail smiles at me, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "You and I are technically no longer married. Till death do us part and all that. Of course, you were never supposed to find out to begin with, but everyday is a gamble with Martha around."

I'm confused because Gail seems to believe what she's saying about us being soulmates, but in order for what she's saying to be true, I need to betray Ben in one of the most fucked up ways I possibly could by marrying the woman who is going to eventually become the worst, most reluctant mother figure of all time. Ben asked me why—out of two entire islands full of people—I had to choose Gail. Even after all I've heard just now, I still have no idea. "Why didn't you just tell me, Gail?"

Sorrow is evident in her eyes, but for her part, she keeps smiling. It's in this moment that I recognize my mother's mannerisms—smiling as a reflex and nothing more.

"Because I'm not your wife anymore," Gail explains softly. "You died."

"But I've died a few times since I've been here. Does that mean every time I die, Ben and I need to get remarried?"

"No," she says simply. "As long as you're not reborn, resurrection does not count as death. Your death in 1977 resulted in your rebirth, so you and I haven't been married since 1977."

I've been so focused on feeling sorry for Ben, I haven't really thought about how horrible this must have been for Gail. To marry someone, watch them die, and then be forced to raise your replacement, knowing your wife was coming back?

Gail lifts her head high and points an accusatory finger at Ben. "I want him permanently banished from Hydra. I don't want to see him. I don't want to think about him. I just want to spend the rest of my short life in peace."

"As if I was ever the problem," Ben mutters.

"Okay," I say loud enough to cut their arguing short. "Okay. Ben stays on the mainland, and you can stay on Hydra. But if you're serious about this, Gail, that means you can no longer visit the mainland."

"I have absolutely no issues with that. What would I ever need from the mainland?"

"Okay." Is this negotiation over? Is everything okay now? Did I just stop another world war? "Are you okay with that, Ben?"

"Seems fair to me," he agrees.

"Perfect." I clap my hands together like a school teacher who just navigated a schoolyard bully incident. "Okay, so. . . I guess we can all go home?"

"It's late," says Gail, "but with the two of us paddling, I'm sure we can get back to Hydra by a decent hour."

"Huh? Oh, no, I was going to. . ." But when I look over at Ben, he looks uncomfortable. "I mean. . . Alex and I were having a sleepover and I need to go get my stuff."

"Just have her return them when she visits Hydra," says Gail.

"On that note," Ben cuts in, still looking deeply uncomfortable, "in light of recent news, I think we need to have a discussion about. . . us. Moving forward." Ben waits for me to say something, but I'm too busy trying to gauge whether or not I'm currently having a heart attack or simply a panic attack.

I think I'm gonna throw up. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"No," he says sharply, and I'm comforted by how insulted he sounds. "No, I just think we should spend some time away from each other."

"How much time? A week? Forever?"

"No, not forever."

"Okay, then when?"

"I am willing to have this conversation again when you are 25," he answers.

My question comes screeching out, "25? Did you pull that number out of your ass?"

"That's when the brain has fully developed."

"Oh, so you're saying I'm braindead?"

Ben sounds exhausted. "Please don't put words in my mouth."

"This is so stupid."

"Cora," he continues, "even the chance of you having a baby anytime soon would be cheating you out of an essential part of growing up."

"Why do you keep saying that? I am grown up!" I shoot Gail an incredulous look, but her eyes tell me she agrees with him. "This is bullshit. 21 is a legal adult."

"Yes, but. . ." Ben tries to rationalize his thinking, his eyes shifting as he wordsmiths. "I've lived a full life. I've made iron-clad friendships. I've traveled the world. I have hobbies. I know who I am. You said yourself you don't know who you are without your siblings. Well," he finishes, tossing an arm up in the direction of the door, "go find out. And don't rush. You have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere."

I want to rage more, but then I realize this deal will allow him a guaranteed five more years of life. I'd rather suffer sex withdrawals if it means I get to talk to him for a little while longer. Inhaling a steading breath through my nose, I nod. "Fine."

Gail's expression softens as she considers his offer. It looks like after a lifetime of disappointment, she's finally impressed with one of his decisions.

1 Year Later

The Island, 2006

I don't know why I ever hated being a girl.

I love wearing long flowy dresses and shiny jewelry and pretty shoes and doing my hair and makeup and nails. But it's also so much more than that. Girlhood is spiritual. It's the cool air that fills my lungs on a morning walk along the beach. It's in the relaxed way I move freely on Hydra, taking up as much space as I want, knowing I have no reason to fear for my safety. It's in the laughter of us all in a grassy field, gripping our sides and wiping our eyes until another joke has us rolling around again. It's in flower crowns and long night heart-to-hearts under the full moon.

On Hydra, I wake up, dress in whatever suits my fancy, eat a delicious breakfast of fresh produce and whatever entree Pris has whipped up, and then do literally whatever I want all day—hangout with Alex and Hazel, help Pippin gather sailors for her ever-growing crew, learn to sew and embroider, help settle disputes between the farm animals and human caretakers, help with the harvest, gossip, dance in the moonlight and walk home in the late hours of the night without fear of being assaulted or killed.

I didn't know what freedom felt like until I moved permanently to Hydra.

"Cora!"

I squint in the early morning sunshine, my smile widening when I recognize them. "Morning! What's up?"

Alex skips over and links her arm in mine. "We're going to the North shore to surf if you want to join us."

Hazel links her arm with mine on the other side. "Yeah, you've been really kicking ass. You're a fast learner."

"Nah," I say, waving away their support, "I suck. You've been giving me swimming lessons for, what? Six months? I should be a pro by now."

"What are you talking about?" Hazel lets go of my arm and crosses her own over her chest. "You've literally learned to swim in the ocean faster than anyone I know. It took me years to really get the hang of it. You're improving in record time."

That's what I love most about Hydra—everyone is always so supportive. In fact, female solidarity is the main reason Shannon, Sun, Kate, and Claire decided to forgo their names in the last few lotteries. Shannon now has an intensely loyal group of girls who she teaches ballet. Sun was able to convince the other women to allow Jin to live with her as long as he stops yelling (a work in progress) and helps in the communal kitchens with seafood prep. Kate volunteers almost daily at the nursery, where newborns are periodically dropped off by overwhelmed new mothers so they can go home and get a full nights sleep.

And Claire? Well, if everything goes right, I'll have her married to Christopher soon.

At first I thought Chris was just being his regular kind self, but the gift of a cradle snowballed into a hundred acts of service to the point where I had to sit him down and confirm he was, in fact, pursuing her. If the last year has taught me anything, it's that Christopher is a dream son. Shy but strong in his convictions. Stern but always fair. Mild-mannered but able to hold his own if things get physical.

I'm so proud to have such a good man as my son. I just wish I knew how to tell Ben about him.

"Thanks," I say and pull both Alex and Hazel into a hug. I'm so glad you girls talked through your issues and made up. "Let me go get my bathing suit."

"Almost." Maya shows me the steps again. "See, right there? Lean your weight on this leg or you'll lose your balance when you spin."

I try the dance routine again and everyone claps when I succeed. This used to embarrass me back when we first started dance lessons, but it didn't take long to learn everyone offers genuine encouragement. If Alex messes up a routine, nobody laughs. Because why would they? Same with Hazel, and same with me. It's easier to take risks with my body movement when I'm not constantly paranoid everyone is going to laugh at my jerky posture or the way my feet sometimes forget what to do when I start moving my arms. Instead of laughing, the elders offer tips and tricks from when they were young.

"What do you think it'll be like?" Hazel rests a hand against her hip as Maya helps Alex with her stance. "Dancing with boys?"

An excited giggle escapes me before I can stop it. "I don't know."

And I don't. I never danced with men in the club back in NYC, and the only times I've ever danced with Ben were the drunken disaster that was our wedding and the equally drunken disaster of the one and only night I was Goddess of Life. I have four years to become a master at this before I have the opportunity to dance with him again, and that alone has helped boost my confidence.

Hazel pats at her black dress, nervously looking up at the moon. "Do you think Karl is going to propose when I turn 18?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"Really? You think so? I can never tell if his heart is in it or not."

"Okay," I whisper, "you are so not allowed to tell him I told you this."

"Swear on my life," she promises.

"He's quiet because he's terrified about saying the wrong thing. In fact," I continue, "I'm pretty sure he's just overall terrified of you."

"Excelent."

We break out into giddy laughter.

Okay, be cool. Calm down and be cool. So you haven't seen him in a year. Who cares? It's not a big deal. He's only a man. A big stupid man.

Yeah, but he's my big stupid man.

As much as I try to pep talk myself, my face enflames the second I find Ben in the crowd. I stare at him and wait for him to look up at my seat on the balcony overlooking the courtyard, but it is Finn's father who notices me and waves happily from the stands. Confused, Ben follows his line of sight, finally notices me, and his entire being seems to light up from within.

I am so unbelievably sweaty.

It's the first game of the new season, and the Bears aren't scheduled to play for two weeks, but I've promised to go to every single game so it doesn't look like I'm playing favorites with my husband's team. The game begins, and I wish Ben were here beside me to explain the rules again. I have no idea what I'm watching.

Not that it matters. I keep my head forward towards the game, but my eyes always trail back to him.

I've been clubbing a few times, but I've never actually been to a house party in college. So when the Boars invite me to a victory celebration in one of the larger cellars underground, I jump at the chance to see what the big deal is.

Erik, head coach of the Boars, gives me a curt but not unkind nod as I enter the candlelit room, already booming with celebratory music. Young men eat and drink and laugh together all throughout the space, and I wonder how it is they can have meaningful conversations with so much noise. Some of the younger boys try their hardest to sneak horns of mead, and the older boys pretend not to see.

One of the youngest players catches me watching him, immediately pales, abandons his horn, and commences the walk of shame in my direction. "I'm sorry, lady Cora. Please don't tell my mom!"

I hold up my hands and wink. "I didn't see anything, Stieg. Oh! I like this one. What is this song?"

"Búkr, my lady."

"How fun. Dance with me!"

"My lady?" Stieg's eyes practically bulge out of his head. "I-I-I can't!"

"Why not? Do you not like dancing?"

"I. . ." Poor Stieg's face is lobster red. "I don't know how."

Maya and the other elders teach girls to dance fairly young. Who is responsible for teaching the boys? "That's okay," I say as encouragingly as I can. "It's really easy. I'll show you. You want to be able to impress the ladies later on in life, don't you?"

As the beat intensifies, so does my movement. I spin, I kick, I sway, I move the exact same way I do on Hydra. Free to move how I please. And I do. Happily. Up until it becomes nothing like when I dance on Hydra, and I feel unwanted hands on my waist.

I instinctively reach for the hands to pull them off me, but when I turn around to yell at the man, I realize it's not a man. It's four men.

It's so safe on Hydra, it takes me a moment to fully realize how unsafe I am right now. Being adored by women is a primal joy, but what I'm feeling from these men is a primal lust. I am nothing to them otherwise. Their leering stares have always been reserved for my much thinner friends, and I don't know why I was ever envious of the male gaze.

I've never been more afraid.

In my panic, I try to quickly scan the room for Ben, but he's not in here. I scan again for any of the Bears, but I don't see anyone I recognize at this party. Why don't I know more Boars? Or Wolves? Or. . . wait. I know these men. These men are Falcons. "Excuse me," I say, because maybe if I pretend like it was all an accident, he won't get mad and blow this out of proportion.

But instead of apologizing, the Falcon steals a glance at his teammates, emboldened by their laughter, and grabs me around the waist.

"Hey," says Stieg, "let her go. Lady Cora doesn't want to dance with you!"

As touched as I am that a 13 year year old is challenging four adult men on my behalf, my relief doesn't last long. One of the men tosses him aside as if swatting a fly.

I try to think of something that would frighten these men, but I'm too scared to properly harness the magical strength it would take to overpower them. As degrading as it is, I'm desperate, so I go with the only option they can wrap their mind around. "I don't think my husband would like you touching me." If they can't respect me as my own person, maybe they'll respect the danger of pissing off a man?

"Lady Cora, we both know you don't care what your husband thinks. If you did, you wouldn't have brought that outsider to Hydra so you could sleep with him whenever you want."

I bark a nervous laugh at the fact that my lie actually worked for once, and now I wish it hadn't. "No, no, it's actually not like that at all." But the man tries to kiss me, and my focus becomes to twist away from his mouth. Call for help. Someone at this stupid party has to help, right? Can they even hear me over all this noise?

As he holds me tightly, I can feel the hard outline of an erection forming in his pants, and I freeze. No magic. No words. No strength.

"Leave her alone," a voice booms, much deeper than Stieg's brave but squeaky demands. "She obviously wants to leave."

I know that voice. "Erik," I cry out, still attempting to keep my voice measured. "Erik, help!"

"Aww," the men croon, "pay him no mind, my lady. Dance for us some more. Music! Start the music! Go on, dance!"

A drum plays another steady beat, but all the joy I usually get from dancing has been replaced with disgust. I stand there awkwardly, refusing to taint something that brings me joy just because they want to objectify me. But the men grow tired fast, and the next time someone gropes me, I scream.

I hear Erik's angry voice, but he's preoccupied with fighting one of the men, which leaves three more to harass me. Suddenly, it's only two men.

"Thor," one of them shouts, confused. "What the fuck are you doing? Get off him!"

Thor the Fourth—of all people—turns on a dime and redirects his fist into his teammate's face, and now there's only one Falcon harassing me. The same Falcon who originally groped me. The ringleader of this entire crime. And he still won't let go of my waist.

Like a flash of light, a knife appears at the neck of the man with his hand around my waist, and I hear the comforting voice of a Bear at last. "Let her go," says Andor, "and I'll consider killing you in a manner that doesn't involve me cutting off your dick."

I guess the only thing worse than a threat to a man's life is a threat to a man's dick because I'm freed in record time.

"Let's get you out of here, my lady," says Andor.

"Ben?" I roll over to make sure he hasn't left my bedroom at the Temple.

"Yes?"

"Are you going to kill them?"

"Go to sleep, Cora."

"Ben?" My words come out with a childish paranoia. "You're not going to leave, are you?"

"No," Ben confirms from his seat near the door. "Please, just relax and get some sleep. I won't let anything come in here."

I toss around in my sheets, but the dread always finds it's way back. "You're not going to leave as soon as I fall asleep, are you?"

"Cora, I'm not going to leave until you tell me to leave."

"Okay," I whisper. Sinking into the pillow, I allow my body to calm down enough to process what happened. I've already told Ben the basics, how I was having a good time with the Boars until some fully grown members of Team Falcon showed up and made dancing gross. I told him all about Stieg's bravery and the strange rescue attempt from Thor the Fourth of all people.

What I haven't told him is my plan.

I think I understand everything better now. Boys and Girls are both raised on Hydra so their mother's can instill virtues of kindness, collaboration, and a solid moral compass without their husbands undermining them. So why do some of the men still turn out rotten? Why are there a shocking number of men who believe women are property, or that they are owed a wife for simply existing? What happens after these boys get sent to the Temple?

I could ask Ben right now, but I'm just so tired.

My plan is simple: I'm going to get to these boys before their father's have a chance to poison their worldview. That is how I'm going to save them.

And I'm starting with Thor Thorson the Fourth.