The fear hits me for the first time, a great sucking terror that swells from behind my sternum with the imploding gravity of a dying star. I’m leaving this cage to be trapped somewhere smaller.

“We will have an escape route in place for you. You have my word,” my mother says. There’s such certainty in her voice, like she thinks her words have weight—like she hasn’t broken promises before. “We will keep you updated every step of the way. Your only job for now is to play nice with your fiancé and get him to like you. Let him believe your loyalty to him is above reproach. It shouldn’t be hard for you to fake disdain for us. I know you find our methods distasteful. You may as well use that to win him over. Use whatever you must to entice him, but it’s in your best interest if his loyalty to you is more compelling than what he holds for his family.”

My father’s aura is swirling. There’s something he’s not saying.

“Understood, but it would be helpful if I know exactly what I was looking for,” I say.

He shifts, bringing his hands to his hips. “We need to know how they’ve truly survived all this time and if they have anything to do with Rochelli.”

I gasp. “You think they’ve been stirring up trouble with the rebels?”

“We haven’t been able to rule it out, and it would make sense for them to rally the unblessed. We have magic, but there are twice as many magic-less citizens in Lunameade as those of us blessed by the Divine.”

Rochelli is the name of the man who has been stoking the simmering rebellion among the common people who resent the blood tithe they have to pay to the Blood Well. Kellan and the city watch have been looking for him for months. There have been whispers of the rebel for years, but it’s only in the past year that he’s been a constant threat.

How quickly the people forget who keeps them safe. For all my parents’ flaws, they take the security of our people very seriously. Maintaining our wall and the magic that turns the hordes of Drained away requires an enormous expenditure of power. My father has carried on the Carrenwell line and that duty since his father died years ago. He bathes in our Family Well weekly so he can continue to do it, and I’ve seen how spent he is when he returns from securing our defenses. Usually, he can’t even walk into the house on his own. He needs my mother and Able to help him stumble down the stairs to the basement well so he can restore himself. Then he sleeps for a full day.

It’s only his incessant need to be seen strictly when he’s strong that keeps the people from understanding the cost. As if they are sacrificing everything and my family gives them nothing back. What are a few ounces of blood dripped from their palms into the Blood Well twice a month compared to a lifetime of safety within these walls? My parents didn’t create the tithes. They are a sacred ritual given to our ancestors by the Divine.

It’s not as if I don’t feel trapped here sometimes. It’s not as if our world is perfect. But I know for certain it’s better than what lies beyond the walls. It’s better than an army of drained ones who wouldn’t hesitate to suck them dry of every last drop of blood for the temporary high of feeling alive again.

“We’ve heard rumors that one of the Havenwoods is blessed by the Divine of Endings,” my mother says.

“With what kind of power?” I ask.

My father shakes his head. “We don’t know, but the rebels have also chosen Asher as their Divine patron. It could be a coincidence, but it’s worth investigating.”

“So, make my husband like me and find out what he knows about the rebellion discreetly. I can do that.” I fold my hands and summon all my anger to bolster my courage. “If I do this, I want my freedom when I’m done. I want to take the tunnel key and the help of my siblings to take it out of the city. I think I’ve earned some peace, have I not?”

The question is directed at my mother, but my father holds up a hand to silence her agreement.

He’s always doing this—stepping in when my mother has things in hand, looking for a chance to fight with me.

“You think you’re so much better than us.” My father spits out the words like they taste bitter.

“No, I don’t.”

“You do—with your attitude and your endless sneaking around. You think you know something we don’t.” He gives my mother an expectant look.

Her gaze drops to the floor. “You can be a bit rough with us⁠—”

“I don’t think I’m better than you,” I say. “I think we’ve been speaking your language my entire life and neither of you have bothered to learn mine. I’ve been forcing myself into a family system that doesn’t fit me, but the two of you have only ever seen me as a problem to solve, rather than a person to try and understand. Not once have you asked me to collaborate. You’ve commanded me around. The reason you think I’m better than you is because I’ve ceased begging you to care. You won’t or can’t give what I want and I’ve learned to stop wanting it altogether. The two of you have nothing to offer me but grief and weakness.”

My mother looks stricken, but my father’s face is beet-red.

“You will do this,” he says.

The only thing that keeps me from arguing is the threat in his eyes. “I will. Because I choose to. Because I know what’s at risk. Because this will be the last thing I do for you or this family, and when I am done, you will leave me in peace. I will earn the tunnel key and my freedom and I’ll get it without argument.”

My parents look at each other warily. After an agonizing pause, my father nods.

“Fine. If you wish to abandon your family when this is over, that’s on you,” my father snaps. “Divine deliver us from ungrateful daughters who don’t understand the precarious place this family is in.”

I ignore the prayer even though it chafes. Today is too important to take the bait.

“Perhaps you could enlighten me as to the peril of the situation. Do you believe the Havenwoods are a threat?” I know the ethos of this family is that everyone is a threat, but I want to understand if he sees that threat as specific or more general.

He crosses his arms. “I believe that Mountain Haven might be outside of our walls, but they were still our people. I had a responsibility to them. I failed them ten years ago, and I can only assume they place blame on me.”

“Even though you were here in the city.”

“They had been asking for help manning their wall,” he says curtly.

“And you didn’t grant it,” I finish.

He pauses for the briefest moment, and I know there’s something he’s not saying. My father straightens. “They’ll be here any moment. There will be time for more questions later.”

He storms out of the room with my mother on his heels, and Gaven smirks at me from the doorway.

“Seems like that went well,” he says, leaning against the doorframe.

“Will you be accompanying me to Fallen Hold?” I ask.

“You should probably stop calling it that before you meet your new husband and in-laws.”

I wave a dismissive hand and pause in front of him.

“Yes, I’ll be coming with you. I’m your bodyguard. Where you go, I go. It’s a non-negotiable for your parents.”

I hate the relief I feel knowing he’ll be there.

Gaven straightens and tilts my chin up to see my face in the light pouring in the window. “Your eyes don’t look right.”

I swat his hand away and pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about. “I’m fine. I feel better than I did last night. You can stand down.”

He nods. I thread my arm through his, and he leads me down the stairs to the first-floor hallway and toward the sitting room. My heels click on the marble tiles.

A strange, nervous rumbling settles in my stomach at possibilities I hadn’t even considered until now. What if he’s old enough to be my father, like my last husband? What if he has terrible, barbaric forest hygiene and rotting teeth? All I know about him is that he has magic that won’t be disclosed until the marriage contract is signed.