Chapter 18
A Glass Cage
As the men worked on their plans and preparation, Marigold explored the many hidden rooms of the lodge. She toured a wing she’d never visited before and discovered a stunning solarium.
The glass-walled sanctuary overflowed with impossible greenery and radiant blooms that somehow thrived despite the Arctic climate outside. Orchids preened in beaming jewel tones, so vibrant she had to touch petals to assure herself they weren’t fake.
“They’re magnificent, aren’t they?”
Spinning sharply, Marigold gasped in the sweet, humid air and backed into a large palm. “Who are you?”
The girl—because that’s what she was, barely past her teens with features that belonged in a Renaissance painting—sat curled in a white wicker chair, a book forgotten in her lap.
Dark hair fell like a curtain around her face, with eyes the same emerald green as Stone’s, flecked with molten gold that dimmed and brightened with every emotion.
“I’m Katya Volkova. And I assume you’re her.” There was a touch of wonder in her voice.
She moved closer, drawn in by her the fragile grace. “I’m Marigold. Though I suppose you already know that.”
“My brothers warned me that you were beautiful.” Her smile was tentative, like she’d forgotten how to use it properly. Brief and gone before truly there. “They also told me who your brother is.”
“Half-brother.”
“They said you’re estranged now, that he sent you away and you managed to escape.”
Marigold nodded. “That’s right. When I tried to stop him from hurting someone, he had me committed.”
“Because you knew what he was.”
Another nod paired with a small step forward. “He’s evil. What he did to you…”
She held up a delicate hand, so small and fragile. “I’m stronger than people realize.”
“Still. No one should have to suffer that way.”
“True.” Such a small word to carry so much weight. She waved a hand, inviting Marigold to settle into the chair across from her. “I come to this room to read, and to escape. Winter can be quite a prison around here. The solarium helps me remember that change will come.
The humid room buzzed with hidden sprinklers and small insects. It was as if they trapped a tropical summer within a bitter tundra. “I suppose this is where the flowers come from.”
“And the produce.” She pointed past the archway lined with draping wisteria. “There are more gardens that way. Everything we serve is farm-to-table, regardless of the season.”
Marigold leaned forward, angling her head to see the next room, but trusted Katya’s word. An awkward silence expanded between them. She folded her hands on her lap, no doubt wondering what they might have in common.
“Why did you escape the facility?” Katya finally asked. “Was it simply because you didn’t want to be locked away, or were there other reasons.”
“There were other reasons.” A knowing look passed between them.
Katya nodded. “I was sent away, too. But I had a choice in the matter.”
“How long?” she asked gently then said, “Do you mind talking about it?”
“I don’t mind. Six months. It was a private facility in Switzerland. Very discreet, very exclusive.” Katya’s laugh held no humor. “My brothers wanted the best care money could buy for their broken little sister.”
“You’re not broken.”
The words came out with more force than Marigold had intended, but she didn’t regret them.
She’d heard that particular lie too many times, had it whispered in her ear by orderlies who thought emotional damage was something that dehumanized a soul, as if her values could be medicated away.
“You sound like my brothers.”
“Well, that’s because I hear it from them too.”
“Before... everything... I used to love the gatherings,” Katya said softly.
“Not here—my brothers kept me away from their business. But I’d attend the masquerades on Isola Verde.
” Her laugh was bitter. “Their parties were beautiful on the surface. Venetian masks sipping poisoned wines, secrets traded like currency.”
“You’ve been to the other islands?”
“Most of them. The Nakamura gardens are actually stunning if you visit during the right season. And Bjornholm is beautiful when it’s not hunting season.
The Bjorn family has a daughter my age. Was my age.
She doesn’t speak anymore.” Katya’s fingers trembled on her book.
“That’s what these islands do. They take things from you piece by piece until you’re not sure what’s left.
My brother’s never wanted that sort of crime here.
They take pride in making sure every guest abides their rules. ”
Marigold lowered her gaze. “Until Jordan.”
“Your brother was never meant to be here. Hunter will never forgive himself for allowing him through the doors. But it was my fault for venturing out of my wing during a party.”
“None of this was your fault.”
Katya visibly drew in a deep breath, but remained outwardly calm. “It’s hard to imagine what I was like after. What I became. All of my innocence vanished in a blink. I was so ashamed, so afraid of what they would say, who they might blame.”
“Did they blame you?”
“Never. I think, on some level, my brothers’ devastation runs deeper than my own. They saw it as a personal failure on their part.”
She could imagine as much. All three men prided themselves on being great protectors. To have their little sister attacked right under their roof, in this fortress they called home, it must have been an incredibly humanizing moment for all of them.
“Life has a surrealness about it after something like that,” Katya continued. “Like a living dream. Or a nightmare.” She laughed without humor. “Sometimes I think I’m going crazy, lost within the strange thoughts running through my head.”
“I know what it’s like to live in an unfathomable reality,” Marigold whispered. “I know what it’s like to question yourself so much that you lose your grasp on life. Truth loses meaning, and lies carry a tangible weight. It’s like you’re falling every day, through time with no landing in sight.”
“Yes.”
“You can’t trust your mind.”
“But you feel it. Here,” Katya said, resting a hand on her chest.
Marigold nodded. “A fragile thread of a lifeline.”
She recalled how some days, her mind was so fried and her drug-induced haze was so heavy, she lost that thread back to reality. Days slipped by, without hope, and with every passing minute, she’d lost her grip on the truth, the likelihood of her staying in that hellhole forever grew.
That’s what happened to the residents there. They once cared, but over time, it became easier to give up. They would rather surrender to numbness than push through the fog to fight for their freedom.
It was the first time she found herself able to think about her time at Whitmore without the creeping panic she usually felt. “The more they tried to help me, the more I felt myself slipping away.”
“Sometimes, grief is so personal, we can only help ourselves,” Katya said. “It seems almost impossible to pick ourselves up when we’re at our lowest. I’ve learned patience like I’ve never known, and my brothers remind me every day to give myself grace.”
Marigold smiled and the image of the boys speaking with Katya in such a supportive way. She knew a side to them Marigold had yet to meet, a side she desperately wanted to know. “You’re lucky to have such kind, protective brothers.”
“I’m grateful for them every day. They never doubted me or blamed me for what happened. At the clinic, they said I was having delusions. Trauma-induced paranoia.” Katya’s fingers twisted in the silk of her dress. “They said memories aren’t reliable after too much emotional stress.”
“But you knew better.”
“I knew what he did to me.” Katya’s words were barely a whisper. “I knew how he smiled while he... I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight, couldn’t even scream. By crippling my other senses, he made my mind that much sharper. I’ll never forget what really happened that night.”
Marigold’s chest tightened with familiar rage. “I’m so sorry he did that to you.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her green eyes. “I typically stay in the east wing when they entertain. Stone vets everyone on the guestlist of every event, but somehow he got past their checkpoint unnoticed. When they realized he was here without the proper vetting, Hunter let him stay.”
Marigolds heart pinched for Hunter, imagining how much he must blame himself for what she went though.
“He wasn’t with the other guests when he found me. He also had everything he needed to do what he planned.” Her laugh was cold. “To think, I wasn’t even special.”
Marigold’s blood ran cold. “How did he do it?”
“Something in my drink. One moment I was laughing at his jokes, thinking how charming he was, how lucky I was that someone so sophisticated was paying attention to boring little me.” Katya’s voice cracked.
“The next moment I was drowning in my own body, aware of everything but unable to do anything to stop it.”
“I’m so sorry, Katya.” Her redundant apology felt so inadequate, but they were the only words Marigold had. Leaning across the space, she placed a hand over hers. “I’m so fucking sorry he did that to you.”
Her palpable sorrow gave way to a slow smile. “You swear like my brothers.”
“There are three of them and one of me. Swearing helps my street cred’.”
She laughed, the sound as melodic as chimes in a breeze. “You should hear them when they think they’re around people who can’t understand Russian.” Katya’s smile grew stronger. “Though I bet you understand more than they think you do.”
“I’m trying. Hunter gave me a book and he’s been helping me practice.”
“Hunter? That surprises me.”
“Why?”
“He’s not the most tolerant.”
“Oh, I’m well aware.” She thought back to the last time she was with Hunter, and how exacting he could be. “But I think he has a soft spot for me.”
“From what I hear, they all do.”
Marigold’s cheeks heated. “I suppose it’s strange for you to imagine the three of them with one woman.”