Hi everyone!

I'm coming back from a year-long break and I'm so sorry to everyone who waited for the next chapters all this time. I'm not planning on writing anything else until I finish "Cross My Heart", so I hope I will be able to publish the chapters regularly and that you'll be here to see the rest of the story!
Thank you so much for all your comments so far, I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter. I am sooooo excited to share the rest of the story with you and I really hope you will like it!

After several hours of rereading my notes without finding a single hint, I gave up. Adrian and Jill were watching a reality show while Sydney worked on her computer, sitting on the couch with them. I looked out the window and saw Dimitri urging Angeline to run more laps around the property. Her expression promised Dimitri a long and slow death.

I wandered into the kitchen and began roaming aimlessly out of boredom. The pantry and refrigerator were stocked with everything we could possibly need, including fresh ingredients like fruits, vegetables, and plenty of dairy. I was browsing through the refrigerator's contents when Eddie walked into the kitchen, towel-drying his damp hair as though he'd just stepped out of the shower.

"I never expected to see Rose Hathaway in the kitchen," he joked with a teasing smile. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Why not? It's one of my favorite places—right after my bed and my couch. Especially when someone else has already cooked something."

"I wouldn't hold my breath for a lavish dinner given our combined cooking skills," Eddie said, nodding toward the team in the living room. I groaned, realizing he was right.

"I never expected Christian to be the one whose absence would lower our mission's chances of success."

Eddie chuckled and nodded. Back at Court, Christian often spoiled Dimitri and me with delicious meals and dinners that we frequently shared with him and Lissa.

"Now it's all up to us," Eddie teased with a wide grin that revealed his dimples. I furrowed my brows, looking at him suspiciously.

"You're not suggesting we cook dinner, are you?" I asked, gesturing between him and myself.

Eddie looked over my shoulder at the refrigerator and shrugged.

"And why not?"

"Because we can't cook to save our lives?" I might have been exaggerating a little, but honestly, I'd rate my culinary skills as pretty terrible.

"Oh, come on. You must have learned something when you ran away with Lissa."

I raised my eyebrows, recalling the many times I'd had to use a fire extinguisher during our hopeless attempts to cook a meal. Eddie, however, wasn't discouraged. He pulled out pasta, chicken, spinach, sour cream, and cherry tomatoes.

"Don't tell me you're backing down from the challenge," he asked with a gleam in his eye. I had no defense. I wasn't going to give up without a fight

We started preparing to cook, rummaging for ingredients, and debating aloud what to make and how to make it. Our deliberations drew Adrian and Jill to the kitchen. They didn't want to help but were more than happy to comment on our doomed efforts. Dimitri and Angeline finished their training and headed to clean up, casting curious glances at us as they passed through the kitchen.

"I hate these recipes!" I growled, glaring at the spaghetti package. "'Cook for 10 minutes,' but do you put the pasta in before boiling, after boiling, or during?"

"Can someone else make this dinner? Someone who at least knows the basics of surviving in a kitchen?" Adrian asked, looking pointedly at me. I glared at him and aimed a packet of pasta in his direction.

"You're cordially invited! Any help would be handy. I can't cook pasta, and Eddie's over here trying to grate spinach for some reason!"

Eddie glared at me, clutching his ridiculous grater to the spinach while Jill burst out laughing.

"Survival training didn't include cooking," Eddie muttered, setting the grater down with visible disappointment.

"Exactly! You two," I said, glaring accusingly at the Moroi mocking us, "could've taken a culinary class while we spent days and nights learning how to protect your lives from every possible threat."

"Honestly, the biggest threat to my life right now is your pasta," Adrian teased.

"Soon my knife will be the biggest threat to your life."

"I think you missed that lesson. You can't kill your Moroi with a dull kitchen knife," he retorted in a lecturing tone.

"They said it's okay if your Moroi is snarky enough when you cook him dinner."

The cooking process was not easy. The chicken Eddie was frying hissed and splattered boiling oil everywhere while I battled the spinach, which shrank gruesomely the moment I tossed it into the pan. When the chicken burst into flames, we rushed for the fire extinguisher, just barely managing to control the fire in time. Despite my best efforts to follow the instructions, my pasta was overcooked, and I'm pretty sure we used the wrong percentage of cream—but we'd tossed the package too quickly to find out.

Despite the chaos, the whole experience was full of laughter and good-natured banter. Adrian didn't miss a single chance to tease me or Eddie, and we gave as good as we got. Jill was crying with laughter, and my stomach hurt from trying to hold back my own.

I had Adrian and Jill set the cutlery, Angeline handled the drinks, and Dimitri helped us plate everything—though, of course, we miscalculated and ended up with way too much food.

Adrian put on a dramatic show of being too afraid to try the food, but in the end, once it was served, everyone began eating eagerly. I won't claim it was great—or even particularly good—but it was edible, and Eddie and I felt a strong sense of self-satisfaction for a job well(ish) done. Adrian, of course, didn't ease up on his jokes, but even he was hungry enough to eat his portion.

In the end, everyone appreciated our effort, and they started washing the dishes while Eddie and I sat back, legs ostentatiously stretched out in our chairs.

"I think it was a great dinner," Eddie murmured. I turned to him, nodding enthusiastically.

"Right?! It was definitely the best dinner I've ever made."

"I think Stan would be proud of our work on the mission," Eddie said, a corner of his mouth lifting at the absurd thought.

"Please," I rolled my eyes. "Stan wouldn't be proud of me if I killed two Strigois at the same time doing a flip and playing the clarinet in the process. He couldn't stand me."

"Likewise, as far as I remember," Eddie said with a grin, making me laugh. A strange feeling washed over me at the mention of my least favorite teacher—a mix of nostalgia for that simpler life and relief that I was free of it.

"God, it feels like another lifetime, but it's been less than a year since we returned to the Academy. Probably less than six months since I was bickering with Stan in class."

"Yeah, I know. It feels like several years have passed since then." Eddie's smile faded, and he gazed off, lost in thought. A strange heaviness settled in my chest as I thought about everything Eddie had been through this year—Mason's death, PTSD after being bitten, being kidnapped during the Academy attack. And on top of it all, he was punished for helping me twice, and then he saw Jill die…

"I'm so sorry you had to go through so much this year—and that I was part of the reason for it."

The thoughtful look vanished from his eyes in an instant, replaced by a sincere expression of disbelief.

"What the hell are you talking about, Rose? I owe you my life. Twice. I would do anything for you. You did everything for me. You are my friend and... I regret many things that happened this year, but not that I was there for you when you needed me."

I glanced at Dimitri, who was smiling as he listened to Sydney while washing the dishes.

"Even so, I regret dragging you into so much," I said, meeting his gaze. I still regretted the policemen I'd doomed to certain death when I stopped Eddie from finishing off Dimitri in Las Vegas. And I regretted that Eddie had to take the punishment for my stunt—something he only agreed to because he trusted me, and I had failed that trust.

However, Eddie shook his head.

"No, Rose. I mean it. I owe you my life, and I don't think I can ever repay you. Back in Las Vegas... I didn't understand how you could take such a risk, but now I do. And I'm glad I could help you fight for what you believed in—to accomplish the impossible and get back the person you love."

His wise eyes met mine, and a lump formed in my throat, making me unable to speak. Eddie found my hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Besides, you went through horrible things this year too. I don't know how you managed to keep going—not letting yourself stop—but also... you seem happy. Happier than ever. And I'm really glad to see that."

I burst out laughing, though there was no real humor in my voice.

"The key is to create such a mess around you that you won't have a chance to think about how deep in shit you really are." Eddie chuckled, releasing my hand as he leaned back in his chair. I grew serious and looked at him. "But you'll have that too. Happiness and peace of mind. It just takes time."

Eddie gave me a sad smile before glancing at the kitchen. I too watched Dimitri, who said something that made Sydney and Jill laugh as he handed them a plate to dry.

"And a little bit of fighting for it."

"Yeah, I guess," I agreed, my gaze still following Dimitri. He caught my eye, smiled, and winked, making it impossible not to smile back. I heard Eddie let out a loud sigh, pulling my attention back to him.

"Now my priority is to take care of Jill. Keeping her safe and making sure this situation never, ever happens again."

The determination on his face and the intensity in his eyes left no doubt about how seriously he took this task. It wasn't just a guardian's duty to protect his charge; it was a personal mission to erase the past through future actions. Like the fact that his charge had died under his watch.

"Eddie," I said softly, lowering my voice and gently touching his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing anyone could've done to stop it."

Eddie didn't meet my gaze, his face tightening with visible pain.

"But it was my responsibility to protect her. I had failed her."

"You did what you could. We're not invincible," I said gently.

"I'm sure you'd feel the same if it had been Lissa on your watch," he said with a wince. I grimaced, knowing he was probably right. But it didn't matter.

"I'd probably struggle to believe it myself, but it's the truth. And someone would need to remind me of it. Some things are just beyond our control. We do what we can, but the rest is out of our hands."

Eddie's features softened, but the haunted look in his eyes lingered. He nodded, signaling his acceptance of my words. The conversation ended when Jill joined us, and I felt Dimitri's warm hands rest on my shoulders.

Together, we agreed that Dimitri and I would be on guard duty that night. Jill stretched her arms and announced she was going to bed, with Angeline following her like a shadow. It seemed she wasn't willing to let Jill out of her sigh. However, I couldn't help but sympathize with Jill's complete lack of privacy. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have my every move monitored and observed. The life of a queen—or a princess—had its fair share of downsides.

And speaking of the queen, I moved into her mind, taking advantage of the fact that my watch hadn't yet started, collapsing into the soft couch in the living room.

However, shortly after moving into her mind, I was completely taken by surprise. The moment I opened up to her, I was struck by the powerful, heartrending despair raging in my friend's mind. Lissa lay in Christian's arms, and he held her, stroking her back as she cried her eyes out. I was so surprised by her overwhelming feelings, which I hadn't felt before opening up to her, that it took me a moment to realize the source of those emotions.

I realized that these strong feelings had a disturbingly familiar dark tinge, which was so incompatible with Lissa's good-natured character. It was the power of the spirit that had been churning inside her for some time, only now finding an outlet after all the terrible things Lissa must have heard over the past couple of days.

Fear and stress had been eating her up from the inside ever since she heard about Jill's kidnapping. She blamed herself for ruining Jill's life and the guilt fueled further dark emotions. This was compounded by the fear that she might lose me and Dimitri as well. Then there was terror for herself and for Christian after the attack on the palace. Not to mention the grief and mourning for the slain guardians who died defending her and her loved ones. All these emotions were exacerbated by the spirit, which only made things worse. Lissa couldn't help but feel how terrible life was and how overwhelming it was for her. She was choking on these emotions and couldn't find a way to get out of them.

Christian whispered words of comfort in her ear, trying to be as honest as he could. It wasn't in his nature to lie for comfort, but I felt that he couldn't bear to look at Lissa in such a state. I understood that. My heart was breaking, and if I were there, I'd probably start making all kinds of empty promises to her just to lift her spirits. I felt so torn, feeling her suffering and being unable to help her in any way.

"Lissa, honey, I know this situation is bad, but everything is going well for the circumstances. Hans is about to put everything in order, and Rose and Dimitri have dealt with much worse cases."

Lissa wailed at this reminder, thinking of all the pain we had been through, so Christian stopped talking and stuck to cuddling and rocking her. My heart clenched with despair—scratch that, it felt like it was burning. Watching her like this, unable to help her, was beyond painful. It reminded me too much of when she suffered from depression after the car accident—in her worst moments with the spirit before I learned to share it with her...

I almost gasped when the solution came to me. So simple! I could simply take her emotions away since our bond had returned! Without thinking about the consequences, I tried to sense our connection. When I felt the emotions she was experiencing, I tried to absorb them. However, after a few moments, I felt no difference on either side. I tensed up, worried that it was due to the distance between us, even though it hadn't mattered in the past. Maybe this new bond was more limited. It must have been since I didn't sense Lissa's emotions whenever she felt them.

I tortured myself by staying in her head a little longer. I couldn't leave her, even though I couldn't help her in any way. Sharing her suffering made me feel less guilty about my helplessness. Well, that, and the time I spent trying to take over the negative emotions swirling in her mind and heart—but I couldn't.

When I returned to myself, the living room was already empty. Had everyone decided my watch had started and gone to bed? I had no idea how much time had passed. I was suddenly terrified that I had been in Lissa's head for hours when anyone could have attacked us. I got up hurriedly, my legs weak, ready to make my rounds when Dimitri came out of the kitchen.

"Rose," his deep voice was enough to calm my nerves. One look at me was enough, and he came over with concern written on his face. I reached out to him and snuggled into his embrace, wanting to escape the fear and pain. He held me close to him, stroking my back. His familiar warmth, well-known scent, and the security it offered made me feel a little better. "What happened?" The quiet whisper that reached my ears was filled with anxiety.

"Lissa," my voice was stifled. I lifted my head to meet his worried gaze.

We sat on the couch, and I told him everything while he put an arm around me and drew reassuring circles on my back. My voice trembled with emotion, though I tried to control my feelings to avoid breaking down.I told him everything—what was going on in Lissa's head and heart, the fact that I knew this was the effect of the spirit, how I had tried to take it all on myself like I used to, but couldn't do it. And how it all terrified me.

"So you tried to take the darkness from her into yourself?" His eyes betrayed so much emotion, much more than I had seen in him over the past few days. He didn't feel the need to be careful about showing his feelings, now that it was just the two of us. His face was full of concern for Lissa and fear for me. I could also see compassion in his features. He understood how hard it was for me to sit idly by, watching Lissa's suffering.

"Yes, but... something was wrong. I couldn't absorb to myself—I could only watch as it consumed her..." I almost choked on my last words and helplessly leaned forward, resting my head in Dimitri's lap. He kissed my hair and began to stroke it in a soothing rhythm.

"Lissa can handle it; she's stronger than that. Besides, she has Christian. He'll be there for her whenever she needs him."

I gripped the fabric of his jeans, feeling guilty for not being the one by her side. Dimitri, as usual, reading my thoughts, added:

"You can't be everywhere at once and always be there to help. You had to take care of Jill. Lissa must be able to deal with the spirit, even when you aren't around."

"I know, but... it's just so hard, seeing her like this." I received another tender kiss on my hair for that.

"Yes, I know," he said in a grave tone, probably thinking back to the moment in the forest cabin when I almost lost my mind because of the spirit, and he had to calm me down. Or when I was hysterical after Viktor was murdered. The spirit's power was useful at times, but it certainly had the power to ruin our lives. "I can't say I regret that you couldn't absorb the spirit's darkness."

"But then Lissa could heal me, just like Oksana heals Mark," I muttered. Dimitri didn't feel the need to remind me that Lissa wasn't with me and couldn't heal me. He stroked my hair and tenderly massaged my back. His heavy, warm hand was enough to bring me back to the present and give me comfort.

His presence brought me solace. I could feel myself slowly calming down, and though I couldn't shake my anxiety about Lissa, I felt like I was breathing a little more easily. I couldn't get used to how easily Dimitri could make me feel better. Yet, his closeness, his touch, his tenderness, and his concern for me were enough to make me feel calmer.

"I hate feeling powerless; I hate not being able to help her."

"I understand, Roza." My nickname spread waves of warmth through my veins. "But we're doing what we can to help by taking care of Jill. At least we know she's safe."

I sighed, knowing he was right, but still unable to shake the feeling that I could be doing more. I hated idleness, and hiding out in this forest house felt too much like doing nothing. I let Dimitri comfort me for a few moments before I finally, reluctantly rose from his lap. His beautiful eyes showed concern. I'd hate to admit it, but sharing my burdens and problems with him made me feel much calmer, knowing that someone would always be there, equally attentive.

"Thanks, comrade, but I think you should go take a nap before your watch. I'm already cutting into your sleep time."

"Why don't you go to bed first? You'll get some rest after all of this." He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and gently stroked my cheek.

"No, there's no point. I won't sleep now anyway. I need to tire myself out," I sighed, reaching for his hand and gently grasping it. His rough fingers tightened around mine, giving me a sense of support, a promise that I wasn't alone in this.

"I don't want to leave you like this." I didn't need the ability to see auras to sense his worry. A pleasant warmth flooded my body as I saw his concern for me, even in the midst of a mission for which he was responsible. I also saw in his eyes a burning determination to make me feel better. I smiled broadly and sincerely at the sight, then moved to brush my lips against his rough cheek. His warm, familiar hand rested on my waist, trying to keep me close to him. His thumb brushed the bare skin between my t-shirt and jeans, and warmth spread from where we touched.

"I feel better. Really, comrade." My lips brushed his other cheek. "It's all thanks to you." Finally, my lips slid down his skin to his mouth, and I melted into a deep kiss. His embrace tightened around me, as if Dimitri were trying to hold me even closer as if he didn't want to let me go. I was the one who pulled away and gently stroked his face, full of love for me. "You can go to sleep. I'll stay up for a few more hours."

Dimitri kissed my forehead, and after I reassured him that he would be much more useful in a few hours than now, he reluctantly went to our bedroom. I put on a warm sweatshirt and made my rounds around the house, trying to sense the Strigoi and detect potential threats.

I thought it would be best if there were two guardians per watch, and that we should implement this system starting tomorrow. Now that everyone will be well-rested after those sleepless nights of searching, wandering through the woods, and running, we'll be able to organize ourselves into a solid formation.

The cold air soothed my restless nerves. The wind, brushing against my hair and skin, refreshed me and allowed me to think more clearly. I was only afraid that the cool, harsh wind might damage my skin, already strained by my wild trip through the forest.

At home, Dimitri always made sure I had hand and face creams with me, ready to lend them to me when I forgot. But I had a feeling these essentials were left at the house in Palm Springs. I tightened my grip on the pendant from Lissa, which I had forgotten to take off when I woke up, and found only Adrian. I didn't know how I'd function now if I had to avoid sleep—or sleep under Dimitri's supervision.

I returned to the quiet house, turned on the lamp by the couch, checked the cameras, and then started going through my useless notebook on Prince Drozdov. An old, high-born Moroi, a widower who had lost his wife and daughter. His wife was killed in a car accident, and nothing was known about his daughter, though the date of their deaths was several years apart. Lara Drozdov, his daughter, was reportedly a beloved girl who struggled with severe depression after her mother's death. Thinking about Lissa's situation today, a cold shiver ran down my spine at the thought that Lara might have taken her own life.

I opened the laptop Sydney had lent me and logged into the information database using Lissa's account. If anyone had known that the reckless Hathaway had access to the most sensitive information in our society, it could have sparked a revolution. However, both Lissa and I paid little attention to such objections, so she gave me the password to her account, which was far richer in information than my own.

While the system was loading, I made myself a cup of tea. Only with the warm brew in hand did I sit down at the table by the window and begin rummaging through the information. Lara's death was labeled an "accident" in all the databases, but nowhere could I find any information about the nature of the accident. Information about the death of Prince Drozdov's wife was abundant, and I found numerous reports detailing who was driving the car, how many people were in it, the make and mileage of the car, the location of the accident, and the hospital to which the victims were taken.

Lara's accident, on the other hand, remained a mystery. I didn't even know whether it was road-related or if she had fallen from a ladder in her home. I found a database with the most detailed information about Lady Drozdov's death. As I rummaged through it, I found a file labeled "Lara Drozdov". There was also no information on how she died, but at least I learned that she had been taken to Mount Sinai Hospital in Chicago where she was declared dead.

I took a sip of tea, trying to understand why this information was so heavily withheld. After all, since the author of this database had details about the hospital and the doctor, they must have known the cause of death.

I started looking for information about the author of the database, wondering if she might have any connection to the Drozdov family or, at the very least, to someone who could have harmed Lara. The name of the author, Kim Larson, didn't tell me anything. In Lissa's database, I found information stating that she is a non-royal Moroi who attended a different academy than Prince Drozdov's daughter and that she currently lives in Nevada, where she is involved in creating databases for our society.

My hand, reaching for the mug of tea, froze as if I had been paralyzed. Kim Larson of Nevada. K.L. Nevada.

A few days after Lissa took the throne, when I was still unable to join active duty, I sat with my friend, reading through the documents left by Tatiana. It took us a days because the breadth and variety of the former monarch's records were legal documents, pending court cases, bank records, family directories, and addresses, the official list and assignments of guardians, and millions more.

I was particularly intrigued by the huge folder labeled "Law of Age." It contained everything—legal opinions, various calculations, cost estimates, concepts, and expert opinions, including mine. We analyzed this folder thoroughly and found evidence that Tatiana was not lying. If she hadn't pushed through the idea of lowering the age to become a guardian, the next step would have been to use compulsion to force dhampirs into service.

There was one piece of handwritten information from Tatiana: statistics from K.L. NV, prove that it was the wrong path. We had no idea what this could be about and searched everywhere for notes, charts, or any information from or about K.L., but found no trace of her existence. We spent weeks trying to decipher Tatiana's note, especially since it seemed to be about such an important issue for us. We checked Nevada censuses, and all the royal families in the state, but nothing matched, and we were forced to postpone our search.

Now my heart pounded in my chest. Was this the mysterious keeper of statistics who could help us rid ourselves of this forsaken law?

I wanted to dial her number immediately but refrained. Hans had forbidden us from using our phones, fearing they might be bugged and that we could be traced. I wondered if emails would work but decided this wasn't something to be handled through email. I memorized her address and phone number, then turned off the computer.