CHAPTER TEN

I wake up tangled in bedding, forehead damp and body wrapped in the warmth of the light streaming through the window. The room spins as I twist in the sheets and stretch my arms above my head, noticing Cassia. She sits on the edge of the bed, legs folded beneath her and a book in her hands. I’m back at the castle, but I can’t remember how I got here.

“Cassia?”

She jumps. “Hey.”

“You’re okay. Is Eric—”

“He’s fine,” she says, uncrossing her legs. “How do you feel?”

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror opposite the bed. My hair is a frizzy mess and my eyes look dark and sunken. I brush the bruise on my cheek. My skin feels tender—like it’s been scrubbed. “How’d we get back here?”

“Elias said you passed out. Again.” She frowns. “He carried you back and I bathed and changed you. I hope that’s all right—you were just covered in so much blood, and I assumed you’d rather it was me instead of Eric or Elias.”

Pictures stitch together in my mind, bile rising in the back of my throat. I scramble from the bed and rush to the bathroom door, throwing myself over the sink as my stomach empties itself. My mind flashes with pictures of Darius’s body, dead on the forest floor.

“What happened, Milena?” Cassia sweeps my hair back from hanging in my face.

“I killed someone.”

“He would’ve killed—”

“I knew him. He was my friend. He was just a kid.”

It didn’t feel real last night. But now, leaning over the sink, I feel it—the heavy weight of both grief and guilt pressing on my organs. It doesn’t matter how hard Cassia scrubbed my body, blood has found its home in the lines of my palms, and it’s not the kind that can be washed away.

“The first few times are hard.” Eric appears in the reflection of the mirror over the sink. He lingers in the doorway, a solemn look on his face.

“What?”

“It gets easier with time.”

“Murder? It’s not a hobby I intend to continue.”

He raises a brow. “You think any of us do? You think we wake up in the morning looking forward to that sort of stuff?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“Get over yourself.” His voice is so low it’s nearly a growl. “They aren’t people, they’re hollowers, and they kill us all the time. You’ll kill again and you’ll get to the point where you won’t even care.”

“Stop it, Eric,” Cassia says.

“You know I’m right, Cassia. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you didn’t talk for days after you first hurt a hollower. Now you can do it in your sleep.”

“What is wrong with you?” I spin around to glare at him. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Ignore him.” Cassia glares at him. “Did you come here to antagonize her or is there something you wanted?”

“Elias wants you to get a message to the elders,” he says. “He’s going to see them.”

“He’s planning on leaving? So soon after what happened?” She moves to the door. “Let me talk to him.”

“Cassia—”

“Why is he going to see them, anyway? Which, by the way, he still hasn’t mentioned what Ana wanted to talk to him about before we had to leave so abruptly.”

Eric stops her in the doorway, uncharacteristically gentle. “Leave it, Cassia, you know he won’t want to talk about it.”

“He never wants to talk about it.”

“Contact the elders.” He puts a hand on her shoulder. “Please.”

She sighs. And for the first time since I met her, vulnerability peeps through her hard exterior, silver eyes shimmering in a way that reminds me of a child—of Darius. Eric steps out of the way to let her past, looking at me over Cassia’s shoulder with something other than distaste for once. A question presses at the back of my mind, one that, deep down, I already know the answer to. “Is Ana dead?”

“Yes.”

I remember last night very clearly. Ana leaping across the clearing, Elias holding her body in his arms. The same way he held me when he came across Darius lying dead on the forest floor, his blood coating my arms. But in the pain I felt after what I did to Darius, I forgot all about Elias’s wounds. How could he hold me that way when his Ana was murdered because of me? How could he even look at me? I blink back the blurriness in my eyes, wanting more than anything to find Elias and apologize, because there must be some part of him, deep down, that knows this is my fault.

I don’t hear Eric leave, but soon I’m all alone in the bedroom, deserted to be with my thoughts, and my heart aches. I don’t know what it’s like to have a proper parent, or what it’s like to feel unconditional love, but I know what it’s like to look up to someone so much you see them as a father. And even though Charles never cared for me, even though he’s hell-bent on murdering me, the thought of watching him die the way Elias had to watch Ana makes me waver on my feet. You can’t easily force yourself to hate someone you grew up trying so hard to gain love from. Emotions don’t work that way.

~

When I was eleven, Flo and I tried to climb a tree guarding the village because we thought we’d be able to see the hunters. We snuck out of the kitchen and hid behind a tomato patch, tearing our dresses on the rough bark as we tried to tug ourselves up to straddle the top. With blooded knees and scratched arms, we slung our legs over the top of the branches and gazed out into the forest. The wind tossed our hair around our faces. The forest was a never-ending sea of green.

I still remember the look on Flo’s face. Her freckle-covered cheeks were tinged pink, her hair lit from the sun, burning like a flame. We were invincible. Nothing could touch us. It was Cynthia who found us and screamed at the top of her lungs for us to get down, threatening to confiscate the board games that we so dearly loved. But we didn’t come down; we didn’t want to. With Charles and the hunters gone, there was no authority. We could do what we wanted.

It turned out to be a bad choice. When Charles got back just before nightfall, Cynthia was about ready to hack the tree down herself. Flo climbed down first, head hung in shame as Cynthia shouted at her, but my descent wasn’t so elegant. When I was halfway down, my legs slipped off the stick jutting out and the foundation beneath me snapped. My arm broke when I hit the ground, an excruciating pain shooting from elbow to wrist.

I remember screaming, scrambling across the ground as I held my arm to my chest. But the clearest memory of that day is of Charles standing over me, eyes mossy and lips tight. I begged him to help me, to carry me to the tunnels and tuck me into bed. But he only stared and stepped back. He told me that I had to suffer the consequences of my actions—my disobedience. And now, in the castle with the very creatures Charles taught me to fear, I can’t push the memory from my mind. The prospect of seeing him again calls up bitter memories, painful indications from my past that alluded to the idea that he never loved me at all. Signs that were so blatantly clear and scattered all throughout my childhood, that I cast aside, chose to ignore. And I can’t help but wonder if I am partly to blame for the position I’m now in. It’s not the only thing that I’m to blame for.

The library door is already open when I reach it, the stone transitioning to a worn carpet. I had spent the remainder of the morning in my bedroom, knees to my chest and back pressed against the wooden headboard, as I thought of Elias, Darius, Charles, and Ana. I peer around the door. Elias leans against the wall by the fire, his eyes on the flames. He looks like some sort of painting that should be hung next to the extravagant artworks lining the castle walls.

“You can’t say anything.” At the sound of Eric’s voice, I leap back, gripping the door. Eric paces behind him, pausing when Elias doesn’t answer.

“All this time … why did she lie to us?”

“You know why.”

“But now we know the truth. I can’t keep this to myself.”

“Yes, you can.” The fire crackles in the silence that hangs between them. “Elias, you have to.”

“But—”

The door creaks and they both spin toward me. I freeze, blood running cold.

“Milena?” Elias calls.

“Oh, sorry, I was … I was looking for you and—I just got here.” From the looks on their faces, neither of them believes me. “I wanted to talk to Elias.”

The air is thick with tension. “Eric, can you see how Cassia’s getting on?” Elias asks. Eric opens his mouth to protest. “Please.” With a sigh, Eric brushes past me and leaves the room. I stare sheepishly at Elias, stepping farther into the room and taking a seat on the burgundy sofa. The bookshelves trap us in a cocoon of warmth. Elias picks up the book on the couch beside me so he can sit down, holding it tightly in his lap. I peer curiously at the cover—it’s old and musty.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Better.”

If he notices my lie, he doesn’t point it out. “Good.”

Silence stretches between us. I have so much to say but I don’t know where to start, because any sort of apology gets stuck halfway down my throat. It doesn’t feel like enough. Nothing I say could ever be enough. “I wanted to thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for bringing you back here. I told you the hollowers wouldn’t take you.”

“That’s not what I was going to thank you for.” With a surge of courage, I shift closer, watching closely for any signs of irritation. But he makes no effort to move away, his eyes softer than I remember. I don’t have the courage to say what I really want—that I’m sorry about Ana, that I’m thankful he held me together when he must’ve felt like falling apart.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me, you know.”

I hold my breath at the tilt of his head, the slight lilt of his mouth—a nearly there smile. “What?”

“I see the way you look at me, Milena. The way you talk to me. You’re afraid of me and you don’t need to be.”

I don’t know how to respond. What he’s said is both right and wrong. There’s something about Elias that makes me feel secure, like nothing could ever touch me, and at this moment I trust him to protect me. But I know the reality of my situation—I saw what he did to those hollowers in the forest. Elias protects me because he needs me, and the second he discovers information that implies he doesn’t could be the moment my life ends. I’m not afraid of Elias. I’m afraid he’ll stop protecting me. “I’m not scared of you.”

“The pounding of your heart suggests otherwise.”

“Maybe you do scare me, a little.” A lie. But it’s much better than the truth.

“I won’t ever hurt you,” he says.

Sounds from the village waft through a gap in the windowpane. Laughter and joy swirl in the wind and fills the air. And as I stare at Elias, I believe him, despite the fact that I watched him tear a head from a body. And that terrifies me.

“Before we left the mountains, Ana wanted to talk to you, and then you wanted to leave straight away. Did she say something?” I ask.

“Ana couldn’t help us like I hoped,” is all he says. I watch him as he talks about her, noting the way her name rolls off his tongue while his eyes remain vacant of feeling. It irks me to see how well he can hide his emotions.

“Cassia told me that Ana raised you.”

“She took me in when my parents were killed.”

The revelation doesn’t surprise me, but in a way, it makes me feel less alone. He was an orphan, just like me. “I’m sorry that she died.”

“People die every day,” he says, voice hard and cold. I frown, staring at him. He’s careless with his words, seemingly unaffected by the death of the woman who raised him.

“That’s an awful thing to say.”

“It’s true.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t get to be sad,” I tell him, shifting so that I’m facing him. “Elias, I—”

“Don’t say it, Milena.”

“You don’t even know—”

“You’re going to apologize like it’s your fault.”

He can read me like a book while I can barely decipher one thing from his expression. “Elias,” I start, “she raised you and they killed her because—”

“It isn’t your fault.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “They wanted me.”

He shifts closer and puts a hand on mine. My first reflex is to flinch, but his hand is warm and gentle as it smooths out my fist until my palm is laying flat. He opens the ragged book in his lap and places it in my hand.

“Here,” he says, drawing away as I hold the page and smooth out its edges. On one side, is what appears to be some sort of list—a combination of words I can’t read. The other is a drawing of a woman with long, wild hair and eyes that seem to shine even through the drawing. “This was an old, spare book Ana gave me. She had a few drawings in here but let me use the rest of the pages. I didn’t know she still had it.”

“This is amazing. Did you draw it?”

He stares at the drawing through half-lidded eyes, nodding.

“It’s beautiful, Elias.”

“She was beautiful, incredible. She taught me everything I know today. She protected me when I had nobody else.” His eyes seem distant, like he’s not sitting in the library with me but is somewhere with Ana, in his childhood. Lost in a world that’s not our own. “And then she grew old and I became strong, and I vowed to protect her the same way that she protected me when my parents were killed.” He looks away from me, to the window. “This is my fault, Milena. This isn’t on you and it never was. Ana is dead because I didn’t protect her, and that’s on me.”

He’s wrong. He had an opportunity to trade my life for Ana’s and when he didn’t, they killed her. The fact that he’s blaming himself for her death shakes me—that’s too much of a burden for somebody who doesn’t deserve it. “You can’t mean that.”

“I do. And I mean it when I say that I won’t let the hollowers get to you as they did her.”

“Until you realize the reason they want me doesn’t affect your village, right? It wouldn’t be logical to keep me safe when so many others are dying in my place.”

“No. It wouldn’t be logical.” He didn’t say it, but he may as well have. I was right: my protection is conditional.

I look back at the book in my lap, eyes slightly blurry as I try to make out the words on the second page. “What’s this?” I pause in thought. “They key … ingrebiance?”

His smile is so warm it transforms his entire face. “The key ingredients.”

“Oh. I’ve always confused the d’s and b’s. They look really similar.”

“I think I like ingrebiance better, anyway.”

This time, I can’t hold back my smile. “You must think it’s pathetic I can’t read at twenty.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all. Did nobody in your village know how to read?”

I shake my head. “Most of them learned in school but Charles pulled me out and got me to work in the kitchen when I was young. I wonder if it was because he didn’t want me to read about everything he was hiding from me,” I say, leaning back so that I’m not so close to him. “Flo could read really well. She would always read the ingredients out to me when we made stuff together.”

“Who’s Flo?”

The thought brings an acid taste to my mouth. “I thought she was my best friend. Who she really was? I don’t know.” The fire crackles in the corner, embers spitting out onto the stones around it.

“The one with the red hair?” Elias says. “The one you protected that night, the one you risked your life for? That was Flo?”

“That’s the one.”

“Did they treat you well?” he asks. “Was your childhood … okay?”

“I don’t have anything else to compare it to.”

He shifts closer, just a whisper away. “I’m sorry all this happened to you.”

His apology feels so sincere, filled with emotions I can’t interpret. “It’s not like it’s your fault.”

I know that I should lean away, that I should remove myself from the situation before I get even more tangled in him, but at this exact moment, the only thing I can think about is how close we are and how warm I feel. Because even though our lives are different, when he looks at me, it’s like he understands what it’s like to not belong anywhere.

“Elias, I wanted to thank you for last night. If you weren’t there … if you hadn’t …”

“Don’t thank me.”

“I want to.” My eyes go down to his hands, clenched in his lap, then back up to his face. “I’ve never felt so safe in my whole life, and I know you’re just doing it because you have to, but I—”

“Milena—”

“—I needed someone last night, and you were there. Even after what happened with Ana, even though it was my fault—”

“Stop.” I freeze as his fingers brush my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. “Stop it, you don’t owe me any apologies.”

Goose bumps rise along the back of my neck. He’s so close—if I leaned in, our noses would brush. And even though I know he could give me to the hollowers at any second, I want nothing more than to be closer to him. But the reality of our situation is like a slap to the face. Elias’s guardian died in place of me; it doesn’t make sense that he doesn’t resent me, even just a little bit.

“How don’t you hate me?” I whisper.

“I couldn’t hate you.” His eyes search my face, expression desperate. “I can’t. Even if they did kill her because of you, I couldn’t hate you for it because—” There’s a cough at the door. Elias leaps away from me so quickly a whoosh of air blows my hair around my face. Over his shoulder, Eric stands in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?” He shoots a pointed look at Elias.

“Nothing.”

Eric looks at me and I shrink into the couch. “We should talk, Elias.”

“About what?”

“You know what.”

Elias doesn’t even look at me before getting up and exiting the library, brushing past Eric and leaving as fast as he can, like he can’t think of anything worse than being here with me. His departure stings, his absence allowing thoughts I’d tried to repress back into my mind. I try to keep my face straight as Eric watches me from the doorway.

“Do you know where Cassia is?” I ask.

“Milena.” His voice is softer than usual. “It’d be better for everyone if you kept your distance.”

He turns and leaves the library and I slump back, the strange energy Elias filled me with feeling as if it’s seeping from my fingertips and dripping to the floor. And when I’m alone again, the thoughts I’d tried to silence crawl back in my head and the weight on my chest returns, the book discarded beside me. The cover is orange and tattered, a stark contrast to the small, paper books we had in my village—books I’d read with Darius when we were both learning.

If my knife hadn’t plunged into his stomach, what would have happened? Would I be with the hollowers right now or would I be dead? Or would Elias have saved me before they got to me? Did I really kill Darius for nothing? Does that make it worse? Thoughts race around my head, justifications and accusations that I can’t seem to organize or pull apart, but Darius floats at the center of them. Because even though he’s gone, his presence is heavy.

~

After wandering through the castle halls, I find Cassia in Elias’s office. She’s sitting at his desk, drowning in paper, and doesn’t look up when I open the door. “I was just going through Ana’s books and I thought—oh, it’s you.”

“Sorry. I thought maybe I could help you.”

“That’s all right.” She waves me closer, and I take the seat across from her. “I was supposed to meet Eric and Elias here. I’m just going through Ana’s books to see if there’s anything more about the sacrifice. We must be missing something.”

“You think that might help?”

“I don’t know, but it’s all we’ve got right now.”

She flicks through the pages, intensely focused. My mind brings me back to the mountain, when Ana had taken Elias outside to cover the paths. I hadn’t thought much of it until Cassia mentioned they were already covered, and then Elias’s abrupt decision to leave—it didn’t feel natural. “Do you know why Ana wanted to talk to Elias?” I ask. “When she took him outside.”

“They hadn’t seen one another for a while.” She shrugs.

“But didn’t you find it a little weird? You said yourself the tracks were already covered by the snow.”

“If I were Ana, I wouldn’t want to talk to my son with a bunch of strangers around either.” She looks up at me with narrowed eyes. “Milena, what’s this about?”

“The way she looked at me before they left, Elias’s decision to leave as soon as they’d finished talking … don’t you find it all a little weird?”

“Look, Elias is a mysterious guy, he always has been. It’s easy to think he’s hiding things, but it’s not always that deep. I trust him, and you should too. If he says Ana couldn’t help, then she couldn’t help.” Before I can respond, Eric shoves the door open, Elias a beat behind him. They both look surprised to see me there.

“Good, you’re here,” Cassia says. “I’ll send word to the elders that you’ll be visiting. But I’ve been going through Ana’s books. Have you heard of adrix?”

“Yeah, it’s an antibacterial medicine. I told you those books are useless, Cassia,” Eric says. “Even Ana herself said there’d be nothing in them.”

“Well, what would you suggest I do? We still have to figure out what the hollowers want from Milena, and these are all we have.”

“What we really need to talk about is what we’re doing about the hollowers,” he says. “They’re getting more confident. Who knows how long it’ll be before they try to infiltrate the village.”

“We’ll have to up security, maybe enforce an earlier curfew,” Elias says, moving to stand behind the desk. He looks at me. “Was your colony ever in contact with other hollower groups?”

“I didn’t even know there were others.”

“It’s strange,” Cassia adds. “They’ve never worked together like this before. It certainly increases the risk for us.”

“It’s only going to get more dangerous as long as Milena stays here,” Eric says.

Cassia raises a brow. “It’s not like she has anywhere else to go.”

“How long are we supposed to let this go on?” he says. “How many people are going to die if we keep her here?”

“You want to just give me to the hollowers?” I say.

“You want families to keep losing their loved ones because of you?”

“Eric, that’s enough,” Elias says coldly. “We’re not giving you to the hollowers, Milena. Ever.” Eric murmurs something beneath his breath about having to leave, and he twists on his feet, his shoulder knocking mine before he slams the door behind him. The room seems to shake. I wonder if I’m the only one who can feel it as guilt winds its way through me.

Cassia snorts. “And to think he could’ve been your second in command. You really dodged a bullet there, Elias. Why is he so worked up, anyway? He’s so angry these days.”

“Just ignore him,” Elias says.

“Oh, believe me, I do.”

Elias chuckles. Cassia’s smile widens as she swings herself over his desk, mumbling something more about Eric’s temper.

“He has a point, you know,” I say.

“Who? Eric?” Cassia says.

“Maybe he’s harsh in his delivery, but he is sort of right. The longer you keep me around, the more everyone here is at risk.”

Cassia leans against the desk. “You’re saying we should give you to the hollowers?”

The last thing I want is to go back to the hollowers, but the thought of more people dying in my place is almost more frightening. “I don’t want to go with them. But I would understand if you didn’t want me to stay here anymore.”

Elias sighs, stepping forward. “Eric is wrong. You have a place here, Milena, no matter what anybody says.” I can’t look away from him, because for the first time in so long, I feel a sense of belonging. And the feeling is indescribable.

“What should we do?” Cassia asks quietly.

“We’ll have to enforce a lockdown. Make sure nobody leaves the village territory without permission.”

“What about the night of the First Run? We can’t enforce a curfew then.”

Elias pauses in thought. “We’ll celebrate inside the village this year. It’s too dangerous to do it outside, even during the night.”

“What is the First Run?” I ask.

Cassia scribbles something on the paper on the desk. “Shifter tradition, all the kids shifting for the first time go on their first run. We celebrate beforehand with a bonfire and music with the entire village. It’s the biggest event of the year.”

“When is it?”

“End of the week,” she says, looking at Elias. “I’m going to arrange something about the lockdown. Do you want me to get back to the elders to let them know when you’ll be there?”

He shakes his head. “That’s all right, I can do that.” Cassia nods, bustling for the door with an armful of paper and books. She smiles as she passes me and pulls the door shut behind her much more delicately than Eric had.

“Don’t worry yourself over Eric,” Elias says without looking up, continuing to fiddle with the papers on his desk. “He’s just doing what he thinks is best.”

“I know,” I say. Eric’s perpetual bad mood doesn’t affect me anymore. The moment I accepted that he doesn’t like me it stopped bothering me. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking about all the reasons why he doesn’t like me. And honestly, it’s getting harder and harder not to agree with him. “Is the First Run compulsory?”

“Compulsory?”

“Like … do I have to go?”

He smiles and his entire face brightens. “Not if you don’t want to. But it’ll be safe. The hollowers won’t get in.”

“It’s actually not the hollowers I’m worried about.”

“The shifters?”

“I don’t exactly fit in.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Not always.”

I step forward and rest my hands on his desk. “What are you doing?”

“Paperwork,” he says. “Nothing you’d find interesting.”

“You’d be surprised. Anything is more interesting than sitting around doing nothing.” I pause. “Not that I don’t appreciate being here or anything, I didn’t mean it like—”

“Do you have any hobbies?”

“Hobbies?” I don’t know why, but the thought of carrying out regular tasks is unfathomable. I’m in a different world now, a world where none of that stuff exists.

“Hobbies. You know, activities done regularly in one’s leisure time for pleasure—”

“I know what a hobby is.”

“That’s a relief,” he says. “I was starting to think the hollowers banished you to cleaning in every spare second you had.” I notice the look in his eyes, the slight tilt of his lips. He’s teasing me. “So?” he asks again. “Is there anything you’d like to do while you’re here?”

“What sort of things? Like painting or writing?”

“Painting is all right. Though I’d suggest reading before you get to writing.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks and I let out a nervous laugh. “Good idea. Reading then? It would be nice to learn.”

“That could be arranged. Anything else?”

I remember racing down the mountain face, feeling utterly useless as that man grabbed my ankles and dragged me along the ground. Though the idea of having to fight for my life petrifies me, I know it’s important. It’s possible that Elias won’t protect me one day, and when that day comes—

“I want to learn how to defend myself,” I decide. “In case things don’t work out here.”

Elias’s smile slips away. He turns around, opening his desk drawer and fiddling with the contents.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m getting the key to the training room.”

“What, now?”

He looks up at me with a grin and my stomach somersaults. Elias has always been beautiful to me, but before, he was unreachable. Now, standing there and smiling at me, he’s beautiful in a whole new way—where I don’t have to worry about him snapping my neck. “Why not?”

~

The training center, as Elias called it, is underground. And though I spent half my life hiding from supposedly ravenous creatures in a dark tunnel, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more terrifying. The center is an area larger than the courtyard of my old village, an elaborate obstacle course stretching around the perimeter of the room—ropes, rock walls, and bars line the course, with soft black mats beneath each obstacle. Everything is black—the walls, the obstacles, the mats on the floor. The only color is the silver of the blades on the weapons lining the walls, too many for me to count. Machetes, daggers, swords, bows and arrows—a collection I couldn’t dream of ever needing to use. And staring at them now, I wonder if this is a good idea after all.

“Why do you have so many weapons?” I leave Elias by the door to walk the length of the wall. “Can’t you just shift?”

“We can’t shift when we’re kids, so we have to learn how to fight. And even after that, we need to be able to protect ourselves during the day, when shifting isn’t an option.”

“And the extensive obstacle course? You plan on climbing mountains too?”

“Purely for endurance. Most battles are lost because you don’t have the strength to keep up with your opponent.”

I remember how my lungs burned as I sprinted down the mountain, the way my legs threatened to give out on me. The thought that this is my reality now is hard to swallow. Back in my village, I thought the most physical activity I’d get to do was hunting a few animals to bring back for a meal. I want to learn to protect myself, but actually being here in front of all these weapons and obstacles is overwhelming. And Elias being here doesn’t help to calm any of my nerves.

I look at the weapons again, eyes landing on the smaller ones. “Should I pick one?”

“Eager, aren’t you?” Darius’s cold, lifeless body flickers on the backs of my eyelids. “No weapons for now.” He puts his hand over mine and guides it to my side and away from the weapons. “I don’t want you to accidentally trip and shoot me with an arrow.”

“That’s fair.”

“First, you need to work on your endurance.”

I don’t even try to stop my groan from escaping. “You want me to practice running?”

“Most of the people you’ll come up against will have had a lot more training than you. Your best bet is always going to be running away, even if you do have a weapon.”

“And what if they still catch me?”

“We’ll get to that later. For now, try this endurance course,” he says, nodding toward it.

A wooden ladder leads to a platform about five feet off the ground. My stomach plummets when I put my feet on the first few rungs, memories of climbing trees with Flo filtering through my mind. Finally reaching the platform, I cling to the wooden pole for support, trying not to seem nervous when I look down at Elias. “That wasn’t so hard.”

The left side of his mouth tilts up. “You haven’t even started yet.”

I face the course, rubbing my hands on the black pants Cassia loaned me as I stare at the first obstacle. It’s some sort of rope swing, multiple strands of rope hanging from the ceiling and no other way across to the next platform aside from swinging. “Can’t be that difficult, right?” I reach for the first rope, my feet leaving the platform, and dangle in midair, trying to use my body to swing to the next one. I get three ropes in when I completely miss and drop to the black mats with a thud. Elias appears above me, slightly blurry.

“You have very poor upper body strength,” he says plainly. Cynthia used to say the same thing to me when I would be scrubbing pots and she would tell me to use elbow grease. Elias leans down and pulls me up by my forearms. “You can take a break if you want.”

“No. I’m fine, really. I need to finish.”

Taking a deep breath, I clamber up the ladder again, this time making sure to properly swing myself to create enough momentum and reach the next rope. I successfully make my way to the next obstacle, a balancing pole, from which I promptly fall twice, making my abdomen burn. And then the next one, a speed run to avoid getting whacked by a swinging pendulum that knocks me to the ground. By the time I reach the end of the course, it feels like hours have passed. I collapse onto the ground, arms like jelly.

“That wasn’t so bad,” I say, a smile crossing my face as Elias appears standing over me.

“How does your body feel?”

I laugh, flipping over so that he’s no longer upside down. “Never better.”

“Good. Do it again.”

The smile immediately drops from my face. I wait for him to laugh—he doesn’t. “What?”

“That was only the practice round, Milena. You’ve still got three more to go.”

My legs are weak and my arms feel like they’ll give way simply holding a glass of water above my head. I want nothing more than to lie in a warm bathtub, close my eyes, and succumb to fatigue. But there’s a gleam in his eye, something that stops me from walking right out the door and going to sleep. Like he’s daring me to try it again. And so, with shaky arms and quivering knees, I push to my feet and hobble back to the beginning.

~

My nightmares are filled with red. Darius’s hands scratching at my throat; my stained fingers at his chest, widening the gaping hole there. He screams and cries. His eyes roll back in his head. His family stands over his body, wailing. Bodies press down on top of me. My fingers scrape at skin, drawing blood. And then my dagger is lodged in their chests and they’re falling over, blood seeping into the white of the snow. Over and over and over.

I wake in a layer of sweat. My legs are tangled in a rope of sheets and I clutch at my throat, twisting at the red painted against my eyelids. Stumbling from the bed to the bathroom, I knock my head on the doorway and lean over the sink, pushing my sweat-drenched hair from my face as voices echo in my head. My hands shake as I turn on the tap and splash icy water on my face.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Milena?” I freeze, then splash my face once more, trying to compose myself as I pat it dry. When I open the door, Elias is standing there with a fist raised as if he’s about to knock again. He enters, eyes immediately darting around the room as if surveying for some type of threat. “What happened?”

“What?”

His eyes scan from the tip of my head to my feet. “I heard you screaming.”

I fidget with the hem of the shirt I’m wearing, feeling incredibly uncomfortable as I stand in front of him, my hair a wild mess and my mind still shaken up. “I’m fine. I had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“About Charles?”

“Darius.” I sit on the edge of the bed, pulling the sheet up over my bare legs before looking back at him. “Eric says it gets easier with time … killing. But I don’t want it to get easier. I don’t want to kill enough hollowers that it has to get easier.”

Elias snaps to, coming to stand in front of me. “Don’t listen to Eric.”

“But—”

“It affects him the same way it affects everyone else. It never gets any easier, you just get better at dealing with it.”

“That’s horrible.”

“That’s life.”

“I don’t want that life. I don’t want to kill anyone.”

He lets out an exaggerated breath and rubs the back of his neck. “And I hope you don’t have to. But it isn’t that simple; sometimes life chooses for us.” The silence that fills the room is comfortable, any awkwardness stolen by the hum of energy that follows Elias wherever he goes.

“What’re we going to do if the other elders can’t help?”

“Don’t worry yourself over that.”

“Of course I’m worried about it. Do you have a plan? If they can’t help?”

“I don’t know, Milena.” He shakes his head. “But we’ll figure something out.”

It’s unreasonable of me to expect Elias to provide me with all the answers to my questions, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting him to.

“You should get some sleep,” Elias says, letting go of the bed frame. “You must be tired from your training today.” My body aches and my muscles cry, but I know that I won’t sleep, not again. “Good night, Milena.”

I don’t want to be alone. But my pride is greater than my fear, so I bite my tongue to keep from asking him to stay. “Good night.”

~

I don’t see Elias or Eric for the next four days. The hollowers don’t make any moves; Cassia spends half her time organizing the First Run ceremony and the other half helping me train. Each morning she comes to my bedroom, brings me breakfast, and instructs me to meet her in the training center. Apparently, Elias signed me up to the class of fourteen-year-olds that Cassia usually teaches. And despite the brutal consequences felt after that first training session, a small part of me hopes to see him there again.

But he never comes.

“Try to punch anybody with that and you’ll break your hand.” I face Aliyah, a petite brunet with impressively muscular arms—the exact kind of upper body strength Elias taunted me for lacking. There are three instructors for this class: Cassia leads it, and her shifter friends Aliyah and Bastian help out.

“What’s wrong with it?” I ask.

Aliyah steps toward me, nodding to the group of kids standing in front of Cassia, all making identical fists. “Do it like that.”

Since Cassia leads the group, she’s usually busy with the kids, and Aliyah or Bastian gets stuck with me—the least competent in the group. But I don’t mind—the welcome I got from the two of them was much warmer than the whispers and stares I got from the kids.

“Knuckles folded over your palm, thumb crossed over your fingers,” she reminds me, demonstrating with her own fists. I copy her movements, flashing a smile as I mimic the kids in front of Cassia. I lead with my hips and throw my fist at Aliyah, aiming for her throat—the soft parts of her body, just like she taught me. She catches my fist before it hits her, lowering it and smiling. “Better.”

“Better than what?” Bastian says as he comes toward us with a glass of water, wiping his hand on his forehead. “A six-year-old? Because that’s not much of an accomplishment.”

Bastian is a mousy-brown, stocky man with a large nose and a very strong jawline. He’s the polar opposite to Eric—I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bastian without a smile.

“Hey,” I say defensively. “I’m trying.”

“Trying to give a high five?” I punch his arm but he doesn’t even flinch.

Cassia comes over to us, wiping her hands on her pants. “Everything all right?”

The kids are packing up their things and starting up the twisting staircase that leads to the foyer. Bastian flicks my cheek with his thumb. “I’m just giving Milena some helpful tips.”

“You and I have very different definitions of helpful.” I laugh.

“You guys want to get some lunch? I’m starving,” Aliyah says.

Bastian stretches his arms above his head and starts for the exit. “I’m in.”

Aliyah looks at Cassia while putting her hair into a messy bun atop her head. “Cass?”

“Can’t. Elias has me running all over the place trying to organize the First Run tonight. Maybe next time.”

“Milena?”

I hesitate. Honestly, the thought of going into the village petrifies me. I know what people here think of me, and I can ignore it so long as I stay in the castle. But venturing outside means immersing myself in the judgment and hate. Thankfully, Cassia comes to my rescue. “Milena’s helping me,” she says. “We’ll see you at the ceremony tonight.”

Aliyah sighs, mumbling something about Cassia always being too busy before disappearing from view. “You really want me to help you?” I ask.

Cassia nods. “I’m getting bored out of my mind all alone in that office. Your company will be much appreciated.”

“Where is he, anyway?”

“Elias? He and Eric went back up the mountain. They’ll be back tonight in time for the ceremony.”

“Back up the mountain? What? Why?”

“They went to get Ana’s body, to bury her.” She pauses. “There were also more books there. They might be important.”

“When will he leave for the coast?”

She shrugs, brushing her hands on her pants. “We’re trying to plan his trip to the elders but we have to be careful. We don’t want to lead the hollowers to them and get more people killed before we get there.”

“What do you think?” I ask. “Do you think the hollowers are just mistaken?”

“I don’t know.” She sighs. “All I know is, it’s a lot of fuss over someone if you aren’t one hundred percent totally confident.”

I mull over her words as we clamber up the stairs and spill into the foyer, following her as we make our way through the labyrinth of rooms toward the library. I know she’s right. I might not be a wisper, but that doesn’t mean the hollowers have made a mistake. Why go through twenty years of raising someone you’re only going to kill if you aren’t positive that you need them? It seems like a lot of hassle over a maybe.

Once we’ve settled into the sofas in the library, Cassia gives me a few mindless tasks that don’t require reading. I can’t keep my mind from drifting to Elias. Right from the beginning, he was mysterious and filled with secrets. But the more time I spend with him, the more I feel like I know him. Little fragments of his personality shine through his hard exterior, and each little piece I hold close to my chest, afraid he’ll close off for good, like how I thought he might when he snapped at me in the forest.

You don’t need to know me and I don’t need to know you.

And now I’m afraid of Elias for a new reason. I’m not scared because I know he can rip my head off, or because he might stop protecting me. I’m scared because the more I think about him, the more wrapped up he gets in my heart. And just like those hollowers in the forest whose hearts lay separate from their bodies, I’m giving him the opportunity to rip mine right out of my chest.