Chapter 19 Isolde #2
I reach for him, touch his jaw. “It’s okay,” I say, even though it isn’t.
He leans in, rests his forehead on my knee. For a long time, neither of us moves. “I’ll run you a bath, okay? Just… let me hold you for a minute.”
The world outside is silent, thick with the kind of dark you only get in places untouched by city light. The only sound is Rhett’s breathing, slow and heavy, and the faint hum of the heater.
I don’t realize I’ve almost fallen asleep, until the gunshot cracks through the night.
Rhett’s head snaps up. In one motion he’s up, shoving me behind the bathroom door. “Stay here,” he hisses, then bolts down the hallway.
The house explodes into motion. Caius’s voice is a bark, all command and anger, as he calls for Slade. There’s another gunshot, then a third, muffled but close.
I crouch behind the bathroom door, heart slamming, nails digging into my palms. I count the seconds, try to steady my breath, but it’s useless. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to fight.
I do nothing.
After a minute, the noise stops. Footsteps echo down the hall—Rhett’s, fast and uneven. He bursts into the bathroom, face wild.
“Are you okay?” he says, checking me for wounds I don’t have.
“Fine,” I say, but I don’t sound fine. I sound like I’m about to puke.
He pulls me up, tucks me against his chest, and walks me out, apologizing that the bath will have to wait.
Downstairs, the main room is back to its cold, tense normal.
Caius stands by the wall of monitors, Slade at his side.
The two militia guys are on the screens, walking the perimeter, rifles at the ready.
Ophelia is in the kitchen, pouring water into a mug. She looks up when she sees me, nods, then sets the mug on the counter.
Caius turns, hands folded behind his back. “The shots were a warning,” he says. “We get a few now and then. Kings trying their luck. We’re not in immediate danger, but we should be ready to move. They’ve been more frequent lately.”
Rhett’s grip tightens on my waist. “Where?”
“Pineridge,” Slade answers. “I have a place there. Noah has cabins and can set you all up until you decide if you want to stay permanently. But it’s safe. The Kings won’t venture on Noah’s land, it’s beyond their scope.”
Rhett glances at me, then back to Caius. “What about the Board?”
Caius smiles, thin and hard. “They’ll look for you if they figure out what you’ve done. They won’t if you figure out a fall guy. Either way, you’re not safe there. Not in the long term and neither is she.”
There’s a long silence.
Ophelia brings me the mug, sets it in my hands. “Drink,” she says, and I take a small sip. It’s sweet, herbal, the taste weird but comforting.
Caius moves to the fireplace, staring into the unlit grate. “You can come with us,” he says, not looking up. “Both of you. No questions, no strings.”
Rhett is about to say something—accept, maybe—but I cut him off.
“We need to go back,” I say.
The room goes silent.
Rhett looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Caius actually turns, eyes narrowed. “Why?” he asks.
I swallow. The words hurt, but I force them out. “Because running doesn’t stop a damn thing. If we want to end it, we have to cut the rot out from the inside.”
Caius laughs, a single harsh bark. “You think you can take the Board?”
“No,” I say, honest. “But I think I can make them bleed.”
He studies me, really studies me, like he’s seeing something new. “You’re insane,” he says, but there’s respect in it. “I like that.”
Rhett pulls me closer, his arm almost crushing my ribs. “You sure about this?” he whispers.
I look at him, then at Ophelia, then at the whole fucked-up tableau of monsters and survivors and misfit royalty.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m sure.”
Rhett kisses my forehead, his breath shaky. “Alright, wildcat. Do or die, I’m with you until the end.”
Caius nods, satisfied. “You’ll need allies. Slade will get you what you need—money, new IDs, whatever. I’ll reach out to some friends. People who hate the Board more than you do.”
Slade grins, teeth sharp. “Consider it done.”
“Come, let’s make some plans.”
Rhett stares at me and Ophelia giggles. “Go with him, Rhett, she’s fine with me, trust me.”
He sighs, kisses me and trails after Caius. As they go, Rhett looks back at me, eyes full of worry and pride and something like love.
Ophelia and I are alone in the kitchen. She sits across from me, folding her hands on the table.
For a minute, we say nothing.
Then, she asks, “Why do you want to go back?”
I stare into the mug, watching the steam fade. “Because I can’t live with myself if I don’t try. My sister—” The words catch. “She died for nothing. I can’t let that be the end.”
Ophelia nods. “I get it.”
I look up, surprised. “You do?”
She smiles, tired but real. “Yeah. My whole life, people expected me to break. To roll over and let them win. But I never did. I just… found something worth surviving for.”
She touches her belly, rubs the skin in slow circles. “Maybe that’s what keeps you going. Not hate, not revenge. Just… the need to be more than what they wanted from you.”
I don’t have an answer for that, so I just sit, letting her words settle.
Outside, the wind rattles the glass. The snow is coming down harder now, coating the world in white.
For a moment, I feel calm. Not happy, not safe, but calm.
It’s enough.
Ophelia stands, stretches, and moves to the window. She stares into the darkness, her reflection ghosting in the glass.
I finish my tea, then follow her, standing side by side, our bodies barely touching.
“We’ll win,” she says, quiet but sure. “I’m sorry we can’t come with, but I need to keep my baby safe. Nothing else matters.”
I nod.
“We’ll get enough revenge for the both of us, and all the girls who came before.”
Ophelia smiles, and the two of us watch the night, waiting for the storm to pass.