Anchors
Knowing nothing would change was our greatest comfort and fear.W. Wells – 2132.09.21
Maia gasped as her eyes shot open. The needle in Hannah’s hand fell to the table under the soft, orange glow of an oil lamp.
“It’s okay,” Hannah said, wrapping her tight in her arms. “You’re okay now.”
Maia’s panicked gaze raced around the room, searching the shadows. It was familiar, even down to the cobwebs in the corner, untouched despite all the time that had passed. They were back at Rowan’s safe house.
She needed this to be real, but her mind was too fragile to trust. Slowly lifting her hands, she hesitated before gently resting her fingertips against Hannah’s back. Maia collapsed in relief. This was real. Hannah was safe.
The smell of vanilla surrounded her as the ache in her leg returned. She dug her face into her sister’s soft curls, fingers gripped painfully around the cloth of Hannah’s dress.
Hannah pulled away, checking the pulse in Maia’s wrist. “You need to relax.”
Her innocent words shredded into Maia, leaving her trapped between laughing and crying. Instead, she closed her eyes, focusing on steadying her breaths and taking inventory of her injuries. The cuts on her arms and hands no longer burned, and the sharp pains in her stomach had dulled to an ache.
“How long was I—”
“A few days here,” Hannah said, words clipped and tense. “Too long with Orion. They should have found you sooner.”
It worried her that Hannah wouldn’t say exactly how long. “What happened after you escaped?”
“Skylar brought us here.” Hannah’s gaze dropped to her hands. “There were only a few of us who survived the massacre.”
Maia’s stomach dropped. That’s exactly what it was. A massacre. By her bloody hands. “What did Orion whisper to you at Folly’s?”
The color drained from Hannah’s face, and she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She reached for her bag, removing a stethoscope. “You’re safe now.”
But she wasn’t. None of them were. Orion was still out there, and Tala still had control over Portico.
Hannah lifted her stethoscope, but Maia pulled away, looking her sister in the eye. “Tell me what he said.”
They stared at each other as if waiting to see who would break first. Hannah dropped her gaze, removing the earpieces. “He said—” her voice caught, and she forced herself to swallow. “He said he would send you back in pieces.”
Maia could still see the jagged mirror shards on the prison floor, and she realized he didn’t lie. He had broken her more than anyone could ever understand.
Hannah’s thumb grazed Maia’s knuckles. “Don’t,” she said, as if reading Maia’s thoughts. “I forgot how powerful it felt to walk next to you. But ever since they carried you back, that power ripples through this house—and through the hundreds of people camped outside ready to fight.”
“I can’t handle any more blood on my hands,” Maia choked. “I feel like I’m drowning in it.”
“If you need forgiveness, I’ll give it to you. I forgive you for everything you had to do to make things right.” Maia tried to look away, but Hannah followed her eyes. “But it doesn’t matter what I say, because eventually, you’ll have to forgive yourself too.”
Maia’s heart ached at her sister’s words. “I’m not nearly as forgiving as you.”
Hannah stood, smoothing her dress. “Good and evil are just a perception of circumstance, Maia.” Her eyes flickered to the mound of black cloth on the table. “Those people out there believe you’re the good in this, even if you don’t. I’m going to find you some food.”
The door closed behind her sister, and the silence that followed was terrifying. Maia stood, grateful for the pins and needles in her foot, anchoring her back in reality. She ran her fingers over the soft, black velvet bunched on the table, and lifted it.
Her jaw clenched as she took in the dress. Gold embellishments were stitched along the high neck and wrists of the long sleeves, like armor. This would have taken weeks to make, and a sob escaped Maia as she realized how long she had been imprisoned.
She fought the urge to rip it to shreds, allowing the fabric to slip from her fingers. The dress was an expectation she hadn’t realized until now. Despite being shattered, she was supposed to look powerful. To pretend she wasn’t the darkness she now embraced. Hundreds were gathered outside, trusting her to have the answers. Tendrils of dread crawled around her chest as she realized what was at stake if she failed. If she wasn’t enough.
Turning away, she bit down on her lip to keep from screaming. A vase filled with peonies sat on the vanity. Hannah’s way of saying she missed her. She didn’t deserve Hannah’s forgiveness. Not after the things she had done to survive.
Maia stormed forward, pushing past the ache in her heart, and gripped the vase. Unleashing a violent scream, she smashed it against the wall. Her arms flung across the vanity, sending the bottles and paperwork onto the floor next, before smashing the mirror with her fist.
The door flew open and Sky stood, weapon drawn, in the doorway.
“What happened?” he asked, searching every dark corner of the room. Briar stumbled in a few seconds behind him, followed calmly by Senna.
“Nothing, I just need a minute,” Maia said, trying to tame the embarrassment, rage, and adrenaline flooding her.
Senna took inventory of the destruction, closing the door behind her. “Put your gun away, Skylar.”
She eyed him like an exasperating child, picking up the waste bin and gathering the flowers from the floor. Sky seemed to realize what Senna already understood. He stalked forward, his face reflecting the same sharp edges Maia now saw in hers.
“This is enough!” He shoved Maia into the wall, pressing his arm against her neck.
Senna’s hand found Briar’s shoulder, keeping him from interfering.
“Are you fucking done yet?” Sky growled, face inches from Maia’s. “Or do you want him to kill you so you stop feelin’ guilty?”
“You can’t say I don’t deserve it,” Maia spat. “You, of all people, should know that.”
She wanted her words to be just as venomous as his, and they were. He threw her into the vanity, and she winced as her hip met the wood. There was a click, and the room stilled.
He pressed his gun into her temple, and for a terrifying second, she wanted him to pull the trigger. He saw it in her eyes, and that alone seemed to change everything.
“You think this is brave?” His voice cracked, steel eyes transforming into storm clouds, welling to match.
She had broken him. His walls now lay crumbled at his feet. He lowered his gun and reached for her, his thumb gently brushing away her tears. She wanted to scream that he was just as much of a coward as her, but the words wouldn’t come.
Instead, she dug her nails into his arm. The anchor she needed to push through the guilt stabbing her heart.
“We all deserve a chance at redemption, Maia. A chance to be better than what anyone, includin’ that voice in the back of our minds, tells us.”
The drop in Senna and Briar’s gaze confirmed the sad truth. Sky’s confession was something they all wanted to believe.
His hand trailed to the back of her neck, and he pulled her tight to his boney chest, his amulet digging into her cheek. “What’s brave is fightin’ to be better than the person you were yesterday,” he whispered, his breath soft against the shell of her ear. “Because eventually the pain dulls, and that voice quiets, and you realize that this darkness was nothing more than a moment.”
He pressed his icy fingers possessively into her back and neck, tempering the rage within her. It was the first time his touch didn’t feel suffocating. His need to keep her safe was his attempt at redemption, and the tragedy was that he chose her.
He pulled away, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “When the light finally breaks through, it’ll be so much brighter than it ever was. You’ll see. I promise, Maia.”
Sky turned for the door, and Senna caught his hand as he passed, exchanging a knowing look. He composed himself and gave her a nod before continuing out the door.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask if you were okay,” Senna said, putting the waste bin down beside the vanity.
Maia collapsed onto the edge of the tabletop. “I would have lied anyway.”
“You forget, I know what you look like when you lie.” She took Maia’s hand with a weak smile. It wasn’t the look of pity that Maia had expected, but an apology. “Which is why I knew you weren’t.”
Chewing the inside of her lip, Maia wondered if she was that transparent to everyone else. Briar lifted the dress from the floor, carefully laying it across the bed and taking a seat beside it.
Senna reached for one of the thick dreads Maia’s hair had become while a prisoner. “I thought if I kept telling you that you were—if I made you say it enough—that you’d overcome whatever was slowly shattering inside you.”
“I wish it would have worked too.” It was the truth. Without Senna’s confidence in her, all of this would have destroyed her so much sooner.
Her nail trailed along the scar on Maia’s cheek. “He’s right about the darkness, darling. But I need you to know you’re never alone in it.” Her eyes finally met Maia’s with the same fire and passion she’d had since the first day they met. “The war they’re planning downstairs is nothing compared to what you’ve already survived. You’re so much stronger than you think, and you’ll be unstoppable when you finally believe that for yourself.”
Senna gently squeezed Maia’s arms, and she looked like she wanted to say more, but instead, she turned, following Sky from the room.
It was quiet again, and with Maia’s adrenaline dissipating, exhaustion took hold. She no longer had Sky’s anger or Senna’s passion fighting the surrounding darkness. With a sigh, she glanced at Briar.
He remained still on the bed, eyes focused on his splinted fingers. The candle flickered on the table, a soft glow against his sharp cheekbones. She saw it—the light the blind man at the tavern had seen in Briar. The steady beacon that cut through the storm within her, calling her back home. She walked over, sinking into the mattress next to him. Her heart calmed as his arm slid around her shoulder, pulling her tight to his side.
“I’m going to kill him for what he did to you.”
“No,” she whispered, suddenly terrified at the thought of losing his light to the war awaiting them. “I need you to make me a promise, Briar.”
His body tensed. “Please don’t ask me to sit this one out, boss.”
“You can’t shoot with your splinted fingers, and I need to know Hannah’s safe.” She glanced up at him, matching the defiance in his face. “Promise me—no matter what happens, you’ll keep her safe.”
Red crawled up his neck, and the cut of his jaw told her he wanted to argue, but his defiance slowly turned into dejection, as if already mourning her.
“I won’t let anyone fuckin’ near her,” he said, tightening his hold around Maia.
She curled into him, shoulders relaxing. “Thank you,” she said, closing her eyes and drifting back into her darkness.
The smell of freshly baked biscuits greeted Maia as she staggered down the grand staircase the next morning. Garcia’s booming laughter traveled from behind the kitchen door, and she readied herself to pretend to be okay.
With a step forward, she sensed Aster before she saw him, sitting alone beside a burning fire in the parlor. His boot rested on his knee, finger running across his lip, lost in thought. Despite the worry knit tight between his brow, seeing him again took her breath away.
She moved towards him when the door to the kitchen opened.
“He’s probably still fuckin’ sulking over—” Rafe stopped in the foyer, eyes wide in surprise. “Maia.” He glanced into the parlor before tucking his hands into his pockets. “Uh, how you feelin’?”
Senna smacked his arm. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What the fuck are you supposed to say in this situation?”
Winter shoved him towards the parlor. “We’re glad to have you back,” she said, giving Maia a sympathetic nod. “Now, let’s talk.”
Senna linked her arm with Maia’s, easing her limp as they walked into the parlor. Maia dared a look at Aster, slowly lowering herself into the seat across from him.
He leaned forward, as if trying to close the space between them. “You were asleep when I got back last night. I didn’t want to wake you.”
His fingers twisted anxiously, eyes searching hers. She wanted to reach for him, but he had seen the blood she spilled at Folly’s, and she didn’t know if that changed things.
“I know why you’ve put this conversation off, Aster,” Winter said, her heavy boots stopping beside his chair. “But we’re quickly losing the advantage of surprise.”
Aster closed his eyes, dropping back in the chair with an exasperated sigh. His finger was back to his lip, gaze lost in the flames. “Surprise isn’t an advantage if your soldiers aren’t ready.”
“Don’t pretend to know my guards better than I do,” she said, her voice tight in warning. “If I say they’re ready, they’re ready.”
He turned to her, poised and confident in the same way he had been in Portico. Maia appreciated that sitting across from her, Aster filled the chair in a way Orion never did. Everything was different now. Everything but Aster.
“And the rebels?” he asked. Confusion twisted Winter’s translucent brows before she lifted her chin in understanding. “They’re under your command now, and there’s nothing to talk about until they’re ready too.”
“Our contacts on Canal Row confirmed Orion is now hidden behind Portico’s walls,” Rafe said, rubbing at his temple, elbow propped on the armrest of the couch.
“Does that change things?” Aster’s gaze passed between Rafe and Winter, allowing them a chance to decide.
Winter balled her fists as if fighting with herself. “No. It doesn’t.”
“If Orion is in Portico, then Senna and I can pull Mr. Foster from hiding. The rebels should also be back in a couple days with more weapons from a nearby cache,” Garcia said, hovering behind Maia’s chair. “We should at least wait until we see what they’ve found.”
Senna brushed Rafe off the armrest and took a seat on it. “My contacts confirmed support in the Coastal Region and Rocky Mount. I have more, closer to Richmond, but they aren’t as easily influenced without some sort of incentive.”
Micah removed a flask from his jacket, taking a sip and handing it to Sky as they stood by the same window that had once been Edward’s perch.
“I’ll give them some fuckin’ incentive,” Micah scoffed, resting his hand on his pistol.
Senna rolled her eyes. “If we can gain their support, we would have Tala and Orion surrounded.”
“You’re right. Let’s discuss what we’re willing to negotiate.” There was respect in Aster’s gaze, and Senna nodded with appreciation.
“What about the bounties?” Rafe asked, snapping his fingers for Sky and Micah’s attention.
“Is this motherfucker snapping at us? Nope,” Micah said, yanking the flask from Sky and wandering out of the room.
Sky sighed, rolling his neck. “We’ll know by the end of the week.”
“Tell me you’ve at least prepared your speech?” Winter asked, glancing at Aster out of the corner of her eye.
“How’s he gonna have a speech if we ain’t even got a plan?” Briar dropped into the seat beside Rafe, both of them taking up the entire couch.
“They’re not lookin’ for a plan, Harper,” Winter said. Her gaze softened as it met Briar’s. It was protective, like a mother with her child. She cared about him—about all her guards—and the situation seemed to be chipping away at her armor. “We know what we signed up for. We just need to believe what we’re riskin’ our lives for is important.”
His gaze dropped to his splinted fingers. She didn’t know he wasn’t fighting.
“The rebels aren’t here for Aster,” Garcia said, hand now resting on Maia’s shoulder. “They followed her.”
She tensed, panic slowly building in her chest. “No, they followed an idea. I’m not who they think I am. Not after everything I’ve done.”
Pinching his lips together with annoyance, Garcia stepped forward. “You need to stand together, Aster.”
“Don’t you dare talk about Maia like she isn’t here,” Senna snapped.
Gripping her knees, Maia fought through her racing thoughts.
The bottle of tonic gripped in her trembling hand.
Hannah begging her not to go to Portico.
Hope’s infectious giggles, and Mr. Kline’s final breath.
Rowan’s body swaying in the breeze.
All her memories and regrets swelled painfully in her chest.
The argument continued, but it sounded miles away. She forced a slow, shaky breath, but it did nothing to fill her lungs. She gripped the arms of her chair. Why couldn’t she breathe?
“He’s right,” Winter said. “You two are stronger together.”
Garcia’s pleading eyes were back on Maia. “They need you right now, even if—”
She could no longer hear him. He blurred before her, and all she could hear was her heart raging behind her bruised ribs. She already knew what he wanted—what all of them wanted.
Everything felt heavy. The weight of things done, and those still to come. The burden perched on her shoulders. She could give them every broken piece of herself, and they would still want more.
With a shaky breath, her eyes met Aster’s. She knew he could see it—the anxiety gripping her so tightly she could no longer breathe, the fear of dying from the erratic thrashing of her heart, the unraveling of every ounce of strength she had left.
“I need a moment,” he said, standing and offering Maia his hand.
She forced herself to move, wondering if she could even make it across the room on her unsteady legs. She was so fucking weak when they needed all her strength.
Aster tightened his grip around her trembling touch, lengthening his stride to hurry them from the suffocating room into the kitchen. The second the door closed behind them, he pulled her into his chest, allowing her to unleash.
Tears streamed down her face as she gasped for air, fighting to hold on to what little grasp she had on her broken thoughts. She had survived so much on her own. Pushed herself through everything that should have destroyed her, all for what?
Her legs grew weak, dragging them onto the white marble floor.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You don’t need to be strong right now.”
She choked on a sob, her white-knuckle grip on his jacket as she shattered in his arms. Every raw emotion she hadn’t allowed to heal, ripped itself from her all at once, leaving her terrifyingly vulnerable.
Another shock of panic rolled through her, taking her breath away. Aster’s warm hands were rhythmic, slowly caressing up and down her tense back to the slow and steady beat of his heart.
“I can’t do this.” Her words slipped through chattering teeth. She was shivering despite the sweat on her palms. “I’m so tired.”
“Then let me carry this for you.”
It was exactly what she wanted to hear, but the guilt took hold. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
She pinched her eyes closed, fighting another wave of panic. Her vicious thoughts had consumed every painful inch of her body, and Aster tightened his arms, fighting them with her.
“You don’t have to.” His voice was steady, his heart calm, like the low crash of waves on the shore, taming the storm within her. “Maia, I would carry all of it for you if it meant giving you even one moment of peace.”
The warmth of his steady hand, his arms wrapped tight around her, slowly eased the tension in her muscles. She took in another shuddering breath, pressing her forehead into his chest.
“We promised to stand together.” His thumb grazed her cheek. “Sometimes that means holding each other up.”
“So you can fall with me?” She shook her head, loosening her grip on his jacket. He needed to walk away from her, and she hated herself for not having the strength to do it for him.
He lifted her chin, his eyes open and vulnerable. “If I need to fall with you to help you back up, I will, because the thought of not standing beside you makes everything else feel unbearable.”
Maia stilled, his words stopping her heart completely. He waited, a hint of uncertainty now flickering in his gaze. Despite war looming like a cloud over them, she slid her arms around his neck, kissing him softly, choosing to weather it together.
“As long as I’m still standing,” she whispered, forehead resting against his.
His shoulders tensed as the significance of her words settled. There was a good chance she wouldn’t be when all was said and done. That neither of them would.
“As long as we’re still standing, Maia.”