I lie on the floor with my butt against the wall and my legs sprawled vertically. At first, I lay on the cold, stone floor in boredom but when I rested my feet on the wall they gradually found their way upward until I discovered this curiously comfortable position.

  I toss a small pebble about the size of a marble, which loosened from the brick wall, up into the air, catching it on its way down. I can catch the perfectly smoothed stone with my eyes closed—the weight of it having grown familiar after all this time. But it’s more interesting to watch it fly high then come crashing down into the palm of my hand.

  I hear Jaxon’s footsteps approaching. Finally.

  His visits are the highlight of each day which I know is all part of my brother's scheme. The fact irritates me, but I've learned to live with it. Some small part in the back of my head wonders if I could use Jaxon. Get him to free Thomas, but the thought doesn't last. Jaxon would never. No matter how well we get along, I can tell the trust between us is broken forever. Besides, he's never gone against Ivans orders. Not even once.

  “I was thinking,” I say, catching my pebble and throwing it back up, “maybe you could talk to Ivan and tell him—”

  “Tell me what?”

  I miss my catch at the unexpected voice and jerk my head around, wide-eyed.

  Ivan stands in front of my cell. I lay frozen for several moments before slowly pulling myself from the wall and sitting up.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, trying not to choke on the question.

  I don’t know where the rush of sudden fear comes from but I feel like he wants to shoot me or something. How long was it since he threw me down here? A month? Several weeks at least. And never once did he come to visit me. So why now all of a sudden? Did Jaxon say something?

  “The real question is why are you here?”

  Maybe he can just shoot me. Because I would rather have that than be forced to apologize for something he drove me to do.

  “I’m here because you wouldn’t just let me leave when I told you I wanted to.”

  His face turns bitter. “And here Jaxon was saying how much progress you were making.”

  I go back to my position from before, done with this conversation. “Yeah, well”—I toss my little rock and it kisses the ceiling before landing in my palm—“maybe Jaxon just likes me.” Unlike some people.

  “And what about you? Is it mutual?”

  I catch my pebble and stop. I could lie. If he thinks I fell for Jaxon, I could get out of here, which brings me one step closer to Eli. And if this world has taught me anything it is that people believe the lies they most want to believe. Ivan must be pretty desperate to visit me down here.

  No. I will not lie. Not about Eli.

  My fist tightens around the stone and I cut him a glare. “Never. I will always love Eli.”

  I don’t care if I rot in here forever. I'll never lie about Eli. Some tiny piece of my heart still hopes for reconciliation between Ivan and Eli. It’s stupid, I know, Ivan made his position clear. But my heart doesn’t care about logic. I guess it never really did.

  The cell door grates open and a guard waltzes in, yanking me up.

  “What are you doing?” I scramble to collect my feet beneath me as chains slam around my wrists. “Hey!”

  I try to get Ivan’s attention. Or the guards’ attention. Anyone. But they are deaf to my cries as I am driven from my cell and down the prison halls. I pass Thomas on the way and relief washes over me. He’s still alive. But he looks wretched. I guess weeks of prison will do that to you.

  As we pass through the door to the outside world, I cram my eyes shut. White light sears my corneas as if someone were stabbing them with red hot pokers. I suck in a breath between clenched teeth and let them drag me forward. After my eyes adjust, I stumble along through the city. I can’t help but blink at the clear, blue skies overhead. I think I forgot what the world beyond that dingy cell looked like. It’s so…vast. I feel overwhelmed. As if I could float away any moment.

  We pass the town square. No chopping block or ax man, so I guess this isn’t an execution. Yay. As we reach the town entrance, my heart skips a beat. Ivan wouldn’t be kicking me out, would he? But the gates are closed, even the metal grid gate is shut. Instead, we climb steps to one of two twin guard towers lining either side of the gate.

  At the top, Jaxon stands waiting. He stares at something beyond the edge and Ivan walks up beside him, hands behind his back. I shift uncomfortably in the winter chill. It’s different from the dull, coldness of the dungeon. There’s life in the breeze up here, even if it bites much deeper.

  “Tell me what you see,” Ivan demands.

  With a frown, I take a step closer and follow his gaze, hearing a sound in the background I never noticed until now. A faint roar like the ocean in the distance. Then I see its source.

  There, along the bare treeline are hundreds of men dressed in battle armor, stomping in a terrifying, rhythmic fashion. One glance tells you what they are: raiders. White, red, and black warpaint decorate nearly every face, and they are armed with every weapon imaginable.

  A man on a white horse leads them. He races across the line of warriors, shouting as he goes. The men raise their guns and swords, letting out a battle cry as he passes. His face is painted: half a light brown, and the other half a pale blue.

  I recognize him immediately.

  “Eli.” I breathe the name.

  Relief floods me and I want to cry. He’s alive. He’s safe.

  Even from this distance, I know it’s him. The way he holds himself on a horse. That focused gaze, steady and confident. And deadly. His mask of shame is gone, replaced with a declaration of war.

  “You see what he is?” Ivan spits the words. “Is this the man you claim to love?”

  Icy dread clamps around my heart, squeezing until I can hardly breathe. What is he doing? But then I remember.

  I promise to stay by your side. I will do whatever it takes to remain with you, always.

  I lean on the wall, pushing myself forward as though I might be able to call him with my gaze. I want him to see me. I want him to know I’m okay. To know that he doesn’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.

  “Let me go to him.” I spin to Ivan. “I can talk to him. Get him to call this off.”

  “Are you insane?” Ivan waves a hand at the scene before us. “Do you hear yourself right now? He’s a raider, Tasha.”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “He just wants you to let me go.”

  “Let you go”—his brows jump up—“so he can smile as he kills you in front of me? I don’t think so.”

  “Gah!” I struggle with the chains on my wrists, frustrated with them. “This isn’t about you, Ivan!”

  His eyes narrow to slits. “No, this is about you having a death wish. One I will not be complicit in. The evidence of what he is stands right before your eyes and you still refuse to believe it!”

  “No! What you see is a man keeping his promise to me.” My vision begins to swim and I silently curse my leaky tear ducts. “A promise to stay with me no matter what. It is your stubbornness, Ivan, that will get innocent men killed in this war. Just let me go.”

  Ivan glares at me and I let him, turning instead to watch Eli in the distance. I had given up hope of seeing him again. But never in a million years did I expect this. Reverting to the thing he hated most. I guess we both felt trapped these last few months, only while I spent my time spilling my guts, he was growing an army.

  “You’ll marry Jaxon.”

  “What?” My head whips around to meet Ivan’s cool look.

  “Sir?” Jaxon speaks up.

  “Like hell I am." Disbelief and disgust hit me like a sledgehammer. "You can’t do that.” I wrestle with my shackles as my gaze searches for Eli down below.

  “You’ll thank me one day. Jaxon, take her back to her cell.”

  “Sir, I don’t think this is—”

  “Do it now, Jaxon. We’ll talk later.”

  Jaxon goes silent, his face falling back into that neutral, unreadable mask. He comes around to me but I step back. “This is cruel, Ivan. If Uncle could see you now, he would be ashamed.”

  Ivan turns away, marking the end of the conversation. The king has spoken. I shake my head in disgust and step ahead of Jaxon back the way we came, leaving Ivan alone on the wall.

  “No offense, Jaxon, but I’m not marrying you, you know that right?” Clipped frustration comes through in my voice despite my attempt to quell it.

  “Really? I’m shocked. Devastated, even.”

  I would laugh at his impassive tone if I weren’t so angry at Ivan. The man is losing his mind, surely.

  “It’s this hatred he has for Eli. It’s making him insane. He needs to let it go.” I say, squeezing my fists in frustration.

  “You are asking him to condone a life between his sister and his worst enemy.”

  “Eli is not his enemy.”

  “That might have been true for a time, but not anymore.”

  I stop in my tracks and feel Jaxon ram into my back. His startled hands touch my shoulders as I spin on my heel to face him. “No. Even now. If you let me go, I’m certain Eli will find a way to call this off. Eli is not the enemy here.”

  Jaxon takes a step back. “Even if I wanted to, you know it’s not up to me.”

  “And if it was?”

  I can’t help the desperation leaking through my words even as I try to temper them.

  Jaxon’s veil of indifference settles firmly in place. “Miss Volkov, please allow me to escort you back to your cell.”

  I glower but stalk off toward the prison. “You know, Jaxon. I would like you more if you thought more for yourself and behaved less like my brother’s loyal dog.”

  When we reach the prison cell, a wooden bathtub greets me. A simple stool with a towel, fresh clothes, and soap sits beside it.

  “What’s this?”

  Jaxon gives me a bored look. “Why, Miss Volkov, I would think you would recognize a bathtub—”

  “Really, Jaxon?” I cut him a scowl as a guard ushers me inside. “I’ve been down here for a month, and now Ivan suddenly cares that I smell nice?” Unless…“You have got to be kidding me. He’s serious about this ridiculous marriage. He’s been planning it.”

  Jaxon remains silent as the prison guard removes my cuffs. The bars swings closed and I stare in disbelief at the tub and then the clothes. A dress, by the looks of it.

  “He can’t do this.” The shock from earlier returns. “I mean, this isn’t even how marriage works. It’s not something you force on two people. This isn’t the Middle Ages. Does he know nothing?”

  “You forget your brother has grown up in a world where marriage is a fantasy, not reality. And here, his word is the law.”

  I scoff, but Jaxon’s words stick in my mind like wet tree sap to skin. Ivan really believes he can command me into a marriage with whoever he wants. At first, I found his attempts to pair me off with Jaxon hilarious but now I struggle to quell the sudden rising panic in my mind.

  I dip a finger in the water. Cold. I have half a mind to stay dirty just to spite my brother; the problem is, I’ll spite myself in the process. Months with no bath will make you feel just as grimy on the inside as you are on the outside.

  “So what?” I ask when Jaxon remains quiet. “You’re not going to fight him on this? You can’t possibly think this is a good idea.”

  Jaxon lets out a sigh, putting his hands on his hips. “When it comes to you, I’m afraid what I have to say matters very little to your brother.”

  He is giving up. I resist the burning urge to scream. “Well—” I toss a hand into the air. “Won’t it be quite the sight as the bride is handcuffed and dragged to the altar? Picture-perfect wedding right there, don’t you think?”

  His silence says all I need to hear. My frustration builds and I grab the bar of soap, chucking it across the small cell. It bounces off the wall, leaving a small white mark. From the corner of my eye, I see Jaxon start to leave.

  “Wait.”

  He stops and I take a deep breath. “Tell Ivan I want to speak with him. Please.”

  Jaxon thinks for a moment before giving me a small nod and continuing on his way.

  There is one more thing I can try.

  ~~~

  The dress’s soft white fabric hugs my form and waves around my ankles with every step. Wearing something so close fitting feels odd after all this time, and I catch myself swaying in it. It’s like a very, very long shirt, but tighter at the top. I used to wear dresses occasionally, usually when I beat up Ivan’s bullies. Something about dishing out justice in a summer floral dress and sneakers seemed to rub salt in their wounds.

  “You look beautiful.”

  I turn to see Ivan standing in front of my cell. When he arrived, I do not know. The dress is more of a distraction than I expected.

  “Thanks.”

  He shifts in place, holding his hands behind his back and glancing around the cell. Is he uncomfortable? I tilt my head and narrow my eyes.

  “What do you see when you look at me?” I ask.

  “You’re my sister.”

  “No. Not what I am. What do you see.”

  His blue eyes stare as a moment passes between us in the dimly lit space. But stillness has a way of stretching time into something much longer.

  “Do you see your sister?” I take a step closer. “Do you see a helpless woman?” Another step. “Or do you see an enemy?”

  “I see someone I will do anything to protect.”

  “Really?” I raise a skeptical brow. “Protect me from who exactly?”

  “You know who.”

  “Oh, you mean Eli?” My lips purse and I cross my arms at Ivan, trying hard to keep the bite from my words. “That’s wrong.”

  I step close, cranking my head up to see him. Nothing but iron bars between us now.

  “If you open this door, it’s not Eli who will find me, but I who will find him. I would go to him without a moment’s hesitation.”

  My raw honesty has its intended effect. His discomfort is palpable. Tense jaw. Tight shoulders. Hawkish eyes gleam with the same hatred I remember the night he declared Eli’s execution.

  I could lie to him. Tell him what he wants to hear. Promise I’ll stay by his side forever. That I choose him over Eli. But then it would mark the destruction of us—brother and sister. And if by lying, I actually succeed in getting back to Eli, it would shatter any hope of reconciliation between the two of them. Because at least right now there is this connection between Ivan and me, held together by honesty. If I lie to him—use him and betray him like that—then even if I find my way back to Eli, there is no line in which to pull Ivan back to me.

  “Vanny.” I reach through the bars to place a gentle hand on the side of his shoulder. “The person you’re trying to protect me from is myself. It’s killing me, Vanny. Please.”

  The unexpected tears don’t surprise me. I can never tell when I’ll break down these days. Ivan stands there, strong and smart, and capable. Everything I could ever hope for him and yet, so much less than the boy I remember.

  “I know what he did to you. How he betrayed you. I’ve seen the monster, but that’s not all there is. All I’m asking is that you trust me—trust my judgment. I promise this will not be the end. You will not lose me.”

  Something soft glimmers in his eye. He reaches up and touches his hand over mine. The sharpness from earlier is replaced with a tender look. There it is. That line of connection between us. He knows I’m speaking the truth.

  “In the morning, you will not stay here anymore,” Ivan says. “After the wedding, you will remain with Jaxon.”

  I rip my hand away as if a wild animal just snapped at it. Horror twists at my insides as Ivan’s hand slowly closes to a fist before falling to his side. I look at the stranger before me with a mix of confusion and disgust. He would gouge out my eyes to save me from going blind.

  “You’re too late.” My words catch Ivan before he leaves and I hold up Eli’s ring on my finger.

  “Marriage isn’t a ceremony. It’s a promise. And I’ve already promised myself to Eli: mind, body, and soul. Love is not something that can be commanded, only given. And we’ve given ourselves to each other. Nothing you do can change that.”