Chapter 2
NIGHTFELL
Pain.
It was all Vesperin Vox knew.
She was awash with sensations. Hot. Cold. Burning. Frigid. Shivering.
Electric.
Her body jerked.
She felt hands on her, stilling her, furious voices, concerned voices, worried voices. They spoke in tandem with each touch, coming to her in discordant snapshots:
"She’s seizing."
"Roll her on her left side!"
Something pried open her jaw. Her teeth clicked, jaw sore and locked. Fingers fit between her lips, then something soft and thick.
"Bite down—it’ll help."
Her body jerked. Again and again and again.
Her entire right side burned, locking up like her jaw. She was aware of it, felt it, but could do nothing to stop it or loosen her rigid limbs.
"No, no! Not your tongue." The fingers returned to her jaw, digging into the space just below her ears until her lips parted. She released a painful wheeze as her eyes rolled behind her closed lids. "Bite down on this."
Something rested against her lips, and she felt that strange, soft thing on her tongue. When the next wave of shaking gripped her, she rode it out, molars grinding down on the thing in between her lips.
Her back bowed. It felt like currents of lightning raced under her flesh. When more hands were on her, she gasped brokenly. She thought she told them, Stay back… don’t touch me. But the words were all in her head, echoing in her broken mind.
She couldn’t talk. Couldn’t move.
A prisoner of her own mind.
Masculine voices washed over her. She recognized them. She knew she did. She wanted to call out, beg for help.
"Vesperin, please—"
"Don’t do this to me."
More seizing. Her back bowed. Her spine felt like it might snap from the pressure.
"Will she be… okay?"
Darkness.
"…hospital?"
"No. They can’t know."
"Then what the fuck do we do?" She knew that voice. Peppermint and red eyes.
Her fingers twitched.
Sifting through her thoughts was like trying to sift through each grain of sand on an endless beach. They fell through her fingertips, scattering in the wind and disappearing at her feet.
"If we take her to a hospital—they’ll know. They’ll find her again. She will be killed!" The voice softened with anguish. A name came to mind. It took her a moment to grasp it, but when she did, she shuddered with a sob. Lucien.
"We don’t know it was them—"
A dark laugh. "We fucking know. Don’t lie to yourself. It was them. Sabine and Talor."
The words broke through her jumbled-up thoughts.
Electricity. Brown eyes. Freckles.
No—
Her body locked up again as more seizures gripped her. White dots sparked in her vision.
And she fell entirely into the darkness.
A gilded vase filled with Nightfell roses was arranged on the tabletop.
Vesperin eyed them with a sigh, one finger pressed on top of the book in her lap.
She was being gifted to the finest man with the deepest pockets. And without a say. Hadn’t she given enough?
She had bled herself dry for the cause.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
With a low sound of rage, she stood, throwing the book down. The hem of her gown brushed the floor. The fabric stifled her, clinging to her skin.
Her eyes swept over the room. The wooden walls, the bookshelves, the table, the small couch. The rug was plain, if a little dirty. She guessed even rebels didn’t have money nowadays—no wonder she was being sold to the highest bidder.
At the mere thought, anger filled her.
She couldn’t do this.
She slammed her palms against the door with a cry. "Let me out! I know you hear me! I can’t believe this!" she yelled. "After everything I’ve done. And you plan to trade me like I’m—like I’m nothing." It was too much to wrap her head around, even with the month she’d been trapped in this room.
Her hand dropped to the doorknob. The brass was cold. She didn’t try it, knowing it was locked—it always was.
The first few days of her imprisonment, she’d run her nails over the wooden grains of the door, searching for a weak spot, which had left her hands ruined and bloody, filled with splinters.
When Aliscent had come to bring her food, she’d merely looked at the blood dripping from Vesperin’s fingertips and tsked. He won’t like it if you hurt yourself.
Vesperin had tried to throw a pot at her head, and Aliscent had deflected with her Stella, sending it shattering to the ground with swirls of air.
Aliscent was her godmother, or so Vesperin had thought—until she’d betrayed Vesperin by offering her up to one of the benefactors of the resistance. In exchange for a handsome donation, confidential information, and a supply of medicine, food, and arms.
The resistance.
Vesperin had been born into the cause by well-meaning parents, until they’d been killed in a bombing, leaving Vesperin an orphan, raised by her mother’s best friend, Aliscent Reveria.
Iron Veil, the capital province on the planet of Brassalon, was due for a change in authority.
Famine, overworked slaves—all because the leaders wanted more, more, more.
Never satisfied. Always pushing. They’d grown too greedy, forcing workers to keep long hours at the steam mills that powered the trains through the city and beyond.
The resistance had been slowly moving, growing more violent as the regime began to turn to worse means of ensuring their rules would be followed.
It had only taken a few well-placed bombings at the mills, and the regime cracked. That had been the start.
The fight was being drawn out—between those too cowardly to join sides and the regime that seemed always one step ahead of the resistance.
We can’t fight forever, was what Aliscent had told her. Vesperin needed to be self-sacrificing, to give up this one thing to help everyone.
Vesperin being given to an inside man of the regime would secure their spot for intelligence, which could allow for well-timed attacks so they could finally get ahead and win.
All she’d have to do was give herself over to a monster.
The doorknob rattled and clicked as it opened. Vesperin stepped back, blindly reaching for the steam-powered lamp on the wooden table by the door.
Aliscent stepped inside, wearing a brown dress with a white cravat cinched at her neck, as well as a leather-style corset. Her godmother’s blonde hair was swept off her shoulders, and she wore iron goggles pushed up to her temples, which sent the straight strands into a disarray.
"You need to stop fighting. You’ll wear yourself out, Vesperin," said Aliscent. "He won’t like a weary companion."
"Companion," Vesperin scoffed. "We both know I’m nothing of the sort. He will use me and hurt me. He works for the regime. He doesn’t care about me or our cause."
"Do you know why he asked for you?"
"Does it matter? He agreed to take me in exchange for helping the resistance. No nobleman would do such a thing." Vesperin’s corset cut into her ribs with each breath. "Please. Don’t do this to me. What about my parents? My mother—what would they think of you using me like this?"
There was no reasoning with Aliscent. This would happen. They both knew it. Each word Vesperin said was in vain.
"We will be eternally grateful for your sacrifice, Vesperin. I like to think your mother and father would understand what I’m trying to do here. One for the many."
Like Vesperin’s life wasn’t as important as the rest—she should be the sacrificial lamb offered up to whoever was willing to pay?
"When you die and go to the Stars, if you ever see my mother again in another life, I hope she spits in your face," Vesperin said softly.
A look of grief flashed over Aliscent’s face as she turned to the door. "I hope you’ll understand. Aetherborns are rare, women rarer still these days. We have to use whatever we can."
A forged-iron carriage came for her the next evening.
The heavy clouds of smog from the factories clung to the entirety of Iron Veil like a sickness. She wiped the sleeve of her gown on the glass.
Vesperin watched through the window as a man stepped from the carriage. He wore a black suit, a tie around his neck, slightly loose, as though he didn’t know how to tie it properly himself.
So he was one of those types, then? A pampered boy playing the role of a man.
His eyes cut up to the window, as if he sensed her staring at him. His eyes were brown, with freckles scattered over his cheeks; even through the fog, she saw his handsome features.
Aliscent led her down the steps of their base—a warehouse they’d refurbished to maintain some modicum of a home. It left a strange impression, with rugs scattered everywhere, leaking ceilings, and pipes overhead. It had been the place she’d called home the longest.
Outside, mist clung to her skin like the fog that drifted over the gravel drive. Birds chittered in the woods beyond. Their base was far from the city, with no one around.
The man stood before the carriage, two horses kicking up gravel and huffing at his back.
As the fog drifted over the drive and the sun cut through the clouds for one moment, she saw his face in startling clarity.
He was so handsome. A soft smile played on boyish lips. He straightened his tie, a cane in his gloved hands.
"This is Vesperin Vox." Aliscent placed her hands on Vesperin’s shoulders and shoved her forward. She tripped in her iron-tipped heels.
The man inclined his head, soft brown hair falling over his forehead as he did so. "Charmed." He extended a hand toward Vesperin.
Aliscent forced her closer.
When Vesperin was in reaching distance, the man took her bare hand between his gloved ones.
The leather of his gloves was warm from his skin, and he smelled nice.
His thumb rubbed over her wrist, and his eyes dropped as she winced.
Not all of the cuts on her hands from her escape attempts had healed.
"What is this? You’re hurt?" he asked Aliscent, but his eyes were trained on Vesperin.
"It’s nothing," answered Aliscent. "Merely a little misunderstanding over her duties to you and the resistance."
He hummed, sounding unconvinced. "Are you cold?" he asked when she shivered.