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I met his gaze, letting him see the defiance there. "I've spent my entire life being treated without dignity. What makes you think your threats mean anything to me?"

"Very well," he said, drawing closer, voice smooth but sharp as a blade. "Isolation it is." His eyes fixed on me one last beat before he dropped his arm and turned away, boots echoing through the chamber walls.

The door slammed behind him with finality, the lock sliding into place with a sound like fate sealing shut. A cry escaped my lips as I sank to my knees, the weight of failure crushing me.

My heart, rattling with hope only moments ago, stilled into a quiet rhythm. Silence spread through the space, encroaching on me like an invisible weight. I sank to my knees as the tears began, letting my face slide against the cold stone floor.

I stayed like that for days as the realizations tumbled in—how I would never get a chance to tell Raine goodbye, that I would never have a chance to tell her how much she really meant to me, as my friend. Osta’s final expression haunted me, along with Laryk’s hesitation, and Ma’s heartbreak when she learned her worst fear had materialized… It all paralyzed me with a type of panic I’d never truly known until that moment.

Not until I realized I’d never see any of them again.

CHAPTER TWO

SIX WEEKS LATER

There had been no moreattempts to visit me, no more interactions. Only the occasional slip of food under the door, the sound of keys turning in locks, and the oppressive quiet that settled in and never left. Six weeks of being locked in this cramped room with nothing but stale air, occasional meals that tasted like sand, and the constant faded light trickling in from the window.

It had become clear that I’d never have another chance at escape while Aether was around. And he was. Always and insufferably. Around. That golden mind pulsed through the air like an invisible weight, and I couldn’t escape it—couldn’t escape the man who loomed like my own personal sentinel, onyx hair catching the light, falling into that unnervingly perfect face—sharp angles and full lips that rested in a brutal kind of neutrality. Looking at him felt like stepping too close to the sun.

There was only time—too much time to think about things thatwere so painful they threatened to tear me into pieces. People and places that were so far out of reach, I had begun to question whether they had ever been real in the first place: Laryk’s piercing emerald eyes, Ma’s hibiscus-stained hands, Osta’s innate optimism that I had always taken for granted.

I’d had dreams—in the beginning. Flickers of things, scenes set in the place I used to call home. Flashes of faces, sudden glimmers of the people I’d left behind. People who probably thought I was dead. It was hard to know, hard to discern whether those were anything more than my own consciousness tormenting me with past glances, sights I had once witnessed myself, or if they were more than that—tangible things happening in real time, glances in mirrors, maybe even memories from strangers. My focus pulled them to me with desperation, injecting them into my mind. I’d given up trying to figure them out. It hurt too much. And as my hope for escape, for rescue, dwindled, so did the dreams. My mind had gone as gray as the landscape surrounding this tower.

Three roaring knocks shot through the room then, icing my veins in an instant. I hadn’t seen another soul in so long. When the Umbra brought food or new clothing to my room, it was always pushed under the door, or set inside while I was sleeping.

No one ever knocked.

I pushed myself closer to the wall, leaving the light of the window and pressing my back against the cool stone surface, heart slamming through my chest, forcing a gasp into my lungs. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been aware of its beating at all.

A woman stepped through first, her stride measured but unhurried. Aether followed, lingering at the threshold, his golden eyes flicking toward me for only a moment before he turned his attention to the hallway beyond.

The woman stopped, scanning the room briefly before her gaze landed on me. She tilted her head, a lock of jet-black hair shifting against her jawline. Leather armor hugged her frame, her silhouettestudded with steel. A dozen daggers glinted against her torso, the blades reflecting the dim light. The handles were carved with unfamiliar symbols. Some looked worn, others ornate, and one appeared to be made of bone, its pale sheen sending a chill down my spine.

“I’m Vexa,” she said simply, her tone light but steady. She stepped farther into the room, her boots barely making a sound against the floor. “And you are?”

I opened my mouth and then closed it, so shocked by the sudden intrusion that I didn’t know how to respond. Unsure of whether I should even respond at all. Guilt tugged at my spine at the thought.

“Does she speak?” Vexa asked, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Aether. He didn’t turn.

“Look, I know you probably don’t particularly love being locked in this tower, but I think you’re smart enough to understand we won’t be making any changes to this situation—” She motioned around the room with wide eyes. “Without some kind of conversation. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, but for the love of?—”

“Give her more time.” Aether sighed with frustration, cutting Vexa off. “She’ll crack, eventually.”

“Aether. No one asked for your input,” she hissed back, sarcasm drenching her words as her attention returned to me. “What can we call you?”

For some unfathomable reason, I gave in. I gave in to the small sliver of distraction she was offering. I gave in to the desperation gnawing at my tongue.

“Fia,” I said, the word tasting unfamiliar.

Her violet eyes, swirling with dark tendrils not unlike my own, sparked with surprise.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on why, exactly, I wasn’t rushing at her, begging for answers of my own. Perhaps it was because Iwouldn’t believe her either way. Or perhaps it was because I had once again made peace with an old friend: avoidance. I didn’t let myself think too hard about it. I didn’t let myself think too hard about anything now.

“Fia. What an odd name,” she murmured, turning onto her side, a victorious smirk etched into her lips. “You hear that, Aether? I win. Now we do this my way.” She let out an amused chuckle as a vein in Aether’s arm pulsed, his muscular frame still taking up the entirety of the doorway.

“He’s a sore loser.” She shrugged. “I guess he was just going to leave you up in this tower until you fell apart. Which wasclearlygoing well.”

My eyes shot to Aether as a spark of anger licked through me, nearly making me stumble from my place at the window. The last six weeks had been a monotonous string of numbness, where nearly all of my emotions had dwindled into nothingness. As I glared at him, I let that anger take its hold. It felt warm. I wanted to latch onto it and never let go.