Fin stands at the door, white as a sheet. The hall is empty. Desolate. The whole Inn—quiet as a forgotten graveyard.

  “They arrested him.” Fin’s high voice strains like water through fingers clamped around a faucet on full blast. “Now they’re saying he’s going to be executed in the morning.”

  I pull Fin close and the poor boy lets out a sob into my shirt. Would Ivan really kill Thomas just to spite me? Or is this a trap? Probably both.

  My heart sinks and I pry him away, crouching to meet his eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out, okay? Thomas will be fine.”

  Fin nods, wiping at his eyes and I hug him before sending him off. With Fin gone, Eli’s uneasy gaze follows me across the room until I sink into the bed. His hands wrap around mine, rubbing them like he might pull my anxiety out from my fingertips.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks.

  I shake my head, squeezing his hands. “Thomas can’t die. Not because of me.”

  “Then we stay. Find a way to stop the execution.”

  I want to smile. Show my support and reassure Eli of my belief in him. In us. And I do believe in him, but I think maybe the one I don’t believe in is myself. If we go up against Ivan and Eli gets captured again, what would I do to protect him? To protect Eli, what would I do to Ivan?

  Eli’s head dips as he tries to catch my gaze. “What do you want to do?”

  “It’s not safe for you to stay here.”

  His hands go still in mine and he turns quiet for a long time. My heart picks up pace, he knows what I mean. I need you to get out of the city, Eli. I need you safe.

  But the request is not one I can voice outright, and guilt from even suggesting he leave without me glues my eyes to my lap. His hands suddenly disappear.

  “I will not leave you.”

  He pulls me into him, fingers sliding through the hair at the base of my head, and holds me in place. I weaken under his touch. His scent. I think he knows it too, because he presses us closer as if willing our souls to become one.

  I expected this response from him. But if I leave, Thomas will die. If I stay, Eli stays. I see no way to save them both. No way, that is, except one—one way which is certain. Or as certain as certain can be.

  “How would we save him?” I ask.

  Eli’s grip eases and his arms come to wrap around my waist, tethering us together. “I can get into the prison and free Thomas. Then we use Thomas’ contact to get out of the city.”

  “You don’t think Ivan will expect a jailbreak?”

  “I will be quick. They won’t be able to sound an alarm.”

  Even assuming it’s not a trap—which it most certainly is—a big guy like Thomas will not be easy to sneak out of prison. The guards will need to be dead. Men simply doing their jobs. Innocent blood. And if Eli pulls off the impossible, there’s still one problem. Thomas’s contact only has room for two people and Thomas makes three. Eli knows this and yet remains silent.

  “And afterward?” I press.

  “You and Thomas can use his contact to get out. I’ll ride a horse we prepared in advance out the city gates before word can spread.”

  The foolhardy plan sounds about right for something fabricated in five minutes. And we only have a couple of hours before Thomas’s execution. Ivan’s had days to plan for this. Nothing we think up can work. One wrong move, one miscalculation, one shout of alarm and Eli will die. I will lose everything.

  “I’ll ride with you. Thomas can use his contact to get out.” I say.

  When he frowns I add, “There’s probably not enough room for both Thomas and me anyways.”

  Thomas did say it would be a tight squeeze when it was just Eli and me, so my argument holds validity even if Eli doesn’t like it. The idea of racing some horses out of the city is honestly preposterous.

  Eli meets my gaze as another plan forms in my mind. One in which Eli and Thomas will survive. If he suspects me, it does not show. Instead, I see nothing but resolve in his eyes, and it breaks my heart. But I hold it in and match his look with one of my own. Thomas won’t die and Eli will be safe. Even if I won’t be.

  “There isn’t much time. I need to see if Fin can reach Thomas’ contact,” I say, pulling away.

  But before I can leave, Eli catches my hand, pulls me in, and kisses me. Deeply. Passionately. For a moment the world fades away, and my will crumbles.

  “Not yet,” he says between kisses, laying me on the bed, his knees between my own as he presses closer.

  I surrender to him—to us—kicking aside the guilt which crawls up the backside of my mind. I will enjoy this moment. Here, in Eli’s arms. Us together. Everything is as it should be, even if it is only temporary.

  ~~~

  My fingers tremble as I unscrew the lid to the water canteen. Stop it. It’s the only way.

  I lift the canteen to my lips, careful not to swallow any before offering it to Eli, who stands beside me along the wall behind The Pheasant’s Roost. The gesture is second nature, done a million times before. After endless hours of training, I would always be the first to reach for the water and then I’d pass it off, just like this. Just like now. Only now it’s different. It’s Judas’ kiss.

  We stand in shadow on this moonless night, eating the food I grabbed on our way out the back. We are both famished since neither of us had a proper meal all day.

  I tear another piece of dried meat with my teeth, keeping an eye on Eli as we wait for Thomas’ contact to meet us and confirm the rendezvous spot for after we break Thomas out of prison. At least, that’s what I told Eli. The only people who know the truth are Fin and me.

  I still remember Fin’s relief. The poor boy stood there, trembling and stifling sobs as I told him I had a plan to save Thomas and that I needed his help. It struck me how much Fin needs Thomas. Thomas is more than just my friend, he’s Fin’s entire world. He’s a good man.

  I watch Eli take a long swallow, then another. His face twists with the second gulp as the undoubtedly odd flavor hits him. He would have drunk it even without the extra salty cheese or the dried meat I grabbed off the shelf on our way out. He always did that. Anything I gave him he took without a second thought because of trust. Trust I don’t deserve.

  I think of countless times Eli placed his life in my hands. From the very beginning, he did that. The first night by the fire, when I asked him how I could trust him, and he gave me that pistol without batting an eye. He earned my trust by giving me his. I swallow hard to hide a shaky breath. I don’t deserve him. But that’s just another reason why he can’t die for me. And if he stays here—in this city—that’s exactly what will happen.

  Eli’s brows furrow at something in the distance. Thomas’ contact, I suspect. But I don’t look, instead, my gaze remains locked on Eli. Counting the seconds. I used exactly five pinches of Valerian root powder.

  Eli drops the canteen and takes a few steps down the alley we are waiting in. His body tilts and he shoots an arm out to catch himself on the wall. But his arm bends and his body slumps against it. The next moment I am there, holding his face in my hands. His eyes are wide, confused; they skip across the world behind me as his head dips to the side.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Eli.” I press my forehead against his and hold back a choking cry.

  Panic replaces confusion and his breath comes in quick, shallow pants. His legs lose their strength and he slides to the ground, bringing me with him, gripping me tight enough to hurt. A single word escapes his lips.

  “No.”

  It’s an utterance of pure desperation. A last begging plea. Somehow, he knows. Even as his mind struggles to stay conscious, he pieces it together. Maybe he always knew I would try something, but I guess he never suspected this.

  “I love you, Eli. I will always love you.”

  Eli’s brows furrow and his eyelids droop like a sinking ship. But he fights it. With nothing except sheer willpower, he remains conscious—if not just barely. So I kiss him. Tenderly. Sweetly. In the same fashion that he kissed me that night in the prison. His grip on my arm loosens and then falls away completely. As his body relaxes, I press two fingers to his jugular. The strong, steady beat of his pulse eases my anxious heart and I step back.

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  We may not see each other again, but at least he will be alive. And safe. As for me, Ivan will see that justice is served, I’m sure. I just hope that means Thomas gets to live. It is my only hope now. Thomas does not deserve to die, not because of me. I might deserve it, but he does not.

  “So only one instead of two?” Thomas’ contact says as he walks up from behind.

  I clear the lump in my throat. “Yes. When you get to the gate, I will draw their attention. Make sure you get him out of here.”

  He gives me a nod before hauling the man I love up over a shoulder and taking him to the wagon sitting a little ways away. He opens a false bottom and stows Eli away into it. I take a horse from the stables and watch from the shadows as they approach the city exit.

  When they are close, I open my mouth and sing. My soft voice grows louder as I lead my horse into the middle of the street. Some heads turn my way in curiosity, but it’s not until I brush my hood aside and reveal my face do I garner the attention I hope for.

  The guards at the gate catch sight of me and shout, running my way. I nudge my horse and start down the path toward the town square, still singing as I go. A glance behind reveals the wagon with Eli inside slipping away. I smile, even as the ache in my heart chokes my voice. But I push through it.

  I sing like I did for Jol only now, I sing for Ivan. I remember Ivan’s favorite song, a sad, haunting melody. And rather than sing for my own survival, I sing for Eli’s. He set me free before—saved me from death and now I’ll be the one to set him free. Even if it costs me mine.

  By the time I reach the city square, I am surrounded by guards. They point their guns but they might as well be props. Guns can’t hurt me, not really. Not anymore. My heart is already gone, left back in that wagon with Eli. They cuff me and take me to the castle, pushing me before Ivan. He sits on his throne, fingers steepled and jaw tight. His eyes speak more words than his lips ever could. And they cut deep.

  “Everyone, out.”

  His tone is dark. Everyone files from the room. It’s a long, slow process and the echo of their shuffling footsteps pick at me like nails on a scab. I never imagined in a million years I could fear Ivan. Never.

  But now the room feels cold and empty. High ceilings once lit by sunlight through tall windows disappear into shadow. I once stood right here, in this very spot. I smiled as Ivan grinned back. His laugh filled the room. Now, I hear only my own heart.

  “Where is he?” He asks.

  “Gone. Out of the city.”

  Ivan searches my face and I know he’s looking for deceit. It brings a bad taste to my mouth.

  “I’m not lying to you, Ivan.”

  “Oh?” His brows raise. “Forgive me for thinking you capable of deceit after you murdered two of my men.”

  Two?

  “They were good men, Natasha.”

  I did get one man in the chest after the executioner. A body shot can easily be fatal. My heart twists and I struggle to keep my gaze from falling to the floor. I fail.

  “So, what happens now?” My voice manages to remain level as I avoid his fiery eyes. “Will you kill me?”

  He scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. That’s hardly a solution here.”

  It isn’t? Killing was always a solution in the past. Not too long ago I thought Ivan would forgive me no matter what I did. But now that's all flown out the window.

  “Besides. It’s not entirely your fault.”

  I look up.

  “It’s obvious you were used.”

  My brows furrow. “You think Eli used me to save himself from the execution?”

  “He tricked you and then left you. It’s okay to admit it. I know it’s hard—”

  The laugh escapes my lips—breathy and faint from disbelief—before I can stop it. Eli, tricked me? He really has no idea what I’ve done. Ivan’s face hardens immediately and I know my reaction was not well received.

  I push aside my surprise, forcing my expression into something neutral. “And if he didn’t? If this was entirely my own doing? What will you do then?”

  “Then I have half a mind to take your punishment out on the one traitor I do have sitting in my prison right now.”

  Thomas.

  The blood drains from my face. My knees lose their strength and I feel the walls begin to close in. It’s happening again. That horrible feeling as the world turns without me on it. I am left in space, alone and helpless. No matter what I say or do, it is not enough to save me from this horrible numbing, emptiness.

  “Please, no.” I croak.

  My chest shakes. To think I gave up Eli only for Thomas to still die. It is too much. I crumble to the floor and my fingers clutch a fist to my chest.

  “You have me, isn’t that enough? If you want to punish someone, punish me. Please…”

  “I will postpone Thomas’ execution, for now.”

  I look up.

  “Because you are my sister.”

  So I am still his sister, at least in his mind. For now.

  “But you need to understand what you’ve done. Get up.”

  Ivan waits as I struggle to my feet then leads me from the castle. Guards keep away a crowd of men watching in the distance but I can see their faces. Angry is probably the most pleasant expression among them. Several have eyes gleaming with something I've seen before in the days with the chief. I tear my gaze away. We step past houses made of brick and stone. Past red, clay roofs and neatly trimmed grass borders around the cobblestone street. Then we reach the familiar wide, open space with enormous black granite memorials.

  We both stare in silence like before only now metal decorates my wrists and the darkness which once crouched nearby now swallows us whole.

  “Read the last two names, Natasha.”

  He doesn’t have to explain. They are the men I killed. Now I have names to go with the faces haunting my dreams.

  “Jake Valkan and Nicholas Peterson,” I say quietly.

  “Jake was only twenty-two and Nick grew up in this world. Woke from the stone when he was only seven. He’d been around longer than me.”

  I shift on my feet and tug my shirt against the sudden anxiety swelling in my stomach. “I never meant to kill anyone.”

  “I know.” Ivan turns to me, eyes filled with sorrow. “Do you see what he’s done? You were never a killer, Natasha.”

  He means Eli. As if the man I love turned me into some kind of monster. But he’s wrong. Eli is my family. It took me a while to see it but it’s true. I love him. And I always protect those I love.

  “I would have killed to protect you.” I whisper. “Always. I would have done anything to see you safe.”

  Something sparks behind his blue eyes. He shifts, unsettled. Unsure. Silent.

  “I traveled across the country to find you. I knew the danger. I knew I would probably end up dead, or worse. I was prepared to give everything to find you. But everything I had wasn’t enough.”

  Ivan stands still as a statue. Nothing except the subtle rise and fall of his chest indicates otherwise. Something about the silence sparks hope. Maybe Ivan isn’t too far gone. I still remember the days Ivan came home crying because the kids at school crushed a butterfly. His heart was so soft.

  “I would have done anything for you, Ivan, even trust a man as terrifying as Eli. And I did. If I hadn’t, I never would have survived to make it to you.”

  Ivan turns to face me, lifting his chin. A breeze kicks up between us, sending a shivering, cold gust through the fabric of my shirt and sucking the heat from my body. Nearby, the spindly, bare branches of a maple tree twitch, grasping at the dark night sky overhead.

  “Then you understand why I’ve done this. Why I will do anything to keep you safe.” he says.

  “It’s not the same, Ivan. You want to take my freedom away in the name of my safety. I’m not a child, you can’t do that. You have to respect my choices.”

  His jaw tenses. “Your choices? Do you know who is responsible for more than half the names here?”

  Yes. But Eli already told me about his dark past, nothing Ivan says can surprise me.

  “The man you claim to love put these names here. This is what he does. Who he is. What he will always be. And you would choose that?”

  I tense. “No, that’s not what I choose. Because that is not who he is anymore.” I jab a finger at his chest. “He’s changed. People change.”

  Ivan raises a hand to his head, rubbing frustration from his brows. “Fine, have it your way. But choices have consequences.” His expression settles into something cold. Colder than I’ve ever seen. “I’ll give you some time to think over your choices.”

  He nods and two guards standing off a little ways come over, taking my arms and walking me down the same dreary little dirt path I found that first night. We step through the prison and I catch sight of Thomas sitting in a small, dirty cell.

  “Thomas!”

  He looks over. “Natasha? What are you doing here?”

  “Thomas I—’’ I struggle as the guards push me along, not slowing even a step. I can do little more than get dragged across the floor. So I shout at the ceiling. “You’re going to be fine, okay? I made sure of it.”

  They take me down winding stairs, deep into the very belly of the prison. A place where it seems even humanity does not touch, the only light to grace these walls comes from a torch near the stairs. I stumble into the small cell as the bars slam shut.

  I watch as they leave, suddenly very cold. Three brick walls close in around me and I hug my chest, sinking to the hard floor. It's empty except for a bucket to relieve myself in the corner and a thin straw mat to sleep on across from it. How long does Ivan plan to keep me here? Do I even care? Even if he lets me out of this cell, it’s not as if he would let me leave the city.

  Has Eli woken up yet? Hopefully not. I cannot bear to imagine the betrayal he will feel when he does. The devastation. I remember the look in his eyes the moment he realized what I did. It haunts me. So desperate; as if he might compel the very universe itself to undo what I’d done. He should hate me after what I did but I know he won’t. Eli could never hate me. Prickles of pain bring tears swelling.

  I’m sorry Eli.

  I wasn’t strong enough to watch you risk your life for me. I was selfish. I took away your choice. I guess it runs in the family. I’m really no better than my brother but even still, Eli can’t die for me. He’s smart and strong and far too good. He deserves better than me but at the very least, he deserves life. I pull my knees up and rest my head on them as tears overflow, streaking down my cheeks and spotting the stone earth at my feet.

  The time passes in a blur. Without the sun or moon, I cannot distinguish day from night and I am taken back to the days with Jol. But back then, I had given up hope Eli would come for me. Now, I hope he doesn’t come.

  The nights grow colder but the guards bring plenty of blankets. They are rough and scratchy but get the job done as I spend my days huddled under them in the corner staring at the single torch across the way. Nothing moves down here except the shadows on the walls from that light. My mind warps them into figures and faces. Unsurprisingly, I see Eli more than anyone else. And it hurts. Even my subconscious wants me to suffer.