Time dissolves. There is only the fire popping in the hearth and the wind screaming outside. Every hour feels like a century. I listen to the forest. Every snapping twig sounds like a boot step. Every gust of wind sounds like a helicopter.Paranoia,Sterling called it.Survival,Alaric calls it.
Around 3:00 AM, the fever takes him again. He burns against me. He tosses and turns, fighting invisible demons. "Vance..." he mutters. "Greedy... stupid man..." Then he goes still. He looks at me. His eyes are clear for a second. Lucid.
"Elodie."
"I'm here."
"The file," he whispers. "The black file."
"I burned it. You told me to."
"Not that one," he groans. "The Trust. The Fray Trust."
"What are you talking about?"
He tries to sit up, but he’s too weak. He collapses back, his head resting on my arm. "Why do you think... they want you?" he asks. His voice is barely a breath. "Why do you think Vance wanted to marry you? Why did your father want to lobotomize you?"
"Because I was a liability. Because I was broken."
"No," Alaric laughs, a wet, dark sound. "Because you are the Landlord."
I frown, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead. "Alaric, you're delirious."
"The land," he insists, gripping my hip. "Hallowed Halls. The estate. It doesn't belong to the Corporation. It doesn't belong to the Board." He looks deep into my eyes. "It belongs to the Fraybloodline. Your mother... she was a Van Der Hoven. The land was her dowry. Put in a trust for her firstborn."
The world stops spinning. "What?"
"Your father... he managed the trust. But he couldn't sell the land. Not while you were alive. Not while you were... competent." Alaric coughs, his body seizing with pain. "If he declared you insane... he became the executor. He could sell to the Syndicate. They want the minerals, Elodie. Rare earth. Billions beneath the asylum."
I stare at the fire. The flames twist and curl. My father. He didn't hate my music. He didn't hate my panic attacks. He cultivated them. He needed me broken so he could steal my birthright. He sold his own daughter for a mine.
"And you?" I ask, my voice hollow. "You knew?"
"I found out," Alaric admits. "When I bought the facility. I saw the deed. I saw your name." He closes his eyes. "I came to Vienna to see the owner. To assess the... asset." "And?" "And I saw a girl playing Chopin like she wanted to tear the sky down." He sighs. "I fell in love with the Asset. And I decided... to steal her."
"You kidnapped me to steal the land?"
"No," he whispers. "I stole you to keepthemfrom killing you for it. If you are dead... the trust dissolves. But if you are missing... the land is frozen. They can't touch it. And they can't touch you."
"But they know I'm alive now," I realize. "That’s why the 'Buyer' wants me secure."
"Yes," Alaric rasps. "As long as you breathe, you hold the keys to the kingdom. You are the Queen, Elodie. I’m just... the guard dog."
He passes out again. I lie there, staring at the ceiling of the cabin. The Queen. I own Hallowed Halls. I own the cage I was locked in. And Alaric... Alaric destroyed his career, his reputation, his life... to hide me. Not just because he was obsessed. But because he knew that if I stayed in the world, I would be slaughtered for parts.
A tear slides down my cheek. I am not a victim. I am a prize. A weapon. A vault. And everyone wants to break me open.
CRUNCH.
The sound is distinct. It is not the wind. It is not a branch falling. It is a boot compressing snow. Heavy. Deliberate. Outside the door.
My eyes snap to the entrance. The fire has burned down to embers, casting long, menacing shadows. I check Alaric. He is unconscious. If I wake him, he will try to fight, and he will die. This is on me.
I slide out from under the blankets. The cold air hits my naked skin like a whip, but I don't feel it. I am running on pure cortisol. I pull on my breeches. My boots. I don't bother with a shirt. I pull on Alaric’s leather jacket. It swallows me, smelling of him and blood. It feels like wearing his skin.
I grab the SIG Sauer. I grab the flare gun.
I move to the window. It is covered in grime and frost. I use my sleeve to wipe a small peephole. I look out.
