Chapter 50
“Do not fear death.
Death is a friend to life—they walk side by side.
There is an end as surely as there is a beginning—it is the course of time.
Look now to the light and bear no more hardship.
In Anam’s name, may you rest at last.”
- The Rite of Passing (spoken only to death-bound souls)
Istirred at the sound of the handle turning.
At first, I didn’t open my eyes. I thought it was her again—Elspeth. Come to finish what she’d promised.
But the footsteps were too solid, too human. I blinked blearily toward the door and saw Rowan step inside. He wasn’t alone.
A man followed him—blonde-haired, broad-shouldered, with a hard face and dark eyes that scanned the room like a predator.
I tensed instinctively.
“Don’t panic,” Rowan said gently, crossing the room in quiet strides. “This is Sam. He’s a friend.”
Sam’s stern expression gave way to a warm smile as he tipped his head to me.
“Hello, Ms. Ashbone, it’s finally nice to meet the woman who’s got my cousin all stirred up.”
Rowan shot him a look that could’ve withered stone. Sam grinned brighter and held up his hands in mock surrender.
“I know his voice,” I said slowly, staring at Sam. “You’re the one from the hallway. I heard you before. You were talking about me.”
Rowan gave a single nod. “So you overheard. I thought you might have.”
I sat up, wincing. “What are you doing here?”
Rowan met my eyes with a steadiness that rattled me more than if he’d shouted.
“We’re getting you out.”
The words didn’t register at first.
“What?”
“You’re leaving the facility, Mavis. Tonight.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“You can’t just—how? Why now?”
He nodded toward the door. I turned and saw Renata standing watch, Naia at her shoulder. They were heavily armed, still as statues, eyes sweeping the corridor like wolves on the hunt.
“I’ve been planning this for months,” Rowan said. “That’s why I’ve been gone so much. Sam’s been helping me gather supplies and clear a path. Quietly. We couldn’t risk suspicion.”
I shook my head, dizzy with disbelief. “The doors are open… but we’ll die in that cold.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened. “They keep those doors unlocked as an illusion of freedom and choice. They know you’ll freeze to death—but only if you’re unprepared. We made it here alive, and I plan on leaving alive. All of us.”
Rowan crossed the room in a few long strides and knelt beside my bed. He took my hand, and for a second, everything else fell away.
“I won’t let you die here.”
“You should’ve told me,” I whispered.
He gave a strained smile. “It’s not that I didn’t trust you. I just didn’t want to fail you. If I had given you hope, only to strip it from you later, I couldn’t have lived with myself.”
I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. Not when it felt like hope was the only thing holding me upright now.
The halls were a labyrinth of shadow and silence.
Fluorescent lights flickered above, casting thin blades of white across the floor. Each step sent a jolt through my spine. I clung to Rowan, my legs barely obeying me. He didn’t rush me—he bore my weight as if it cost him nothing.
We stopped at a door just down the corridor. I didn’t recognize it.
“Whose room is this?” I asked, already dreading the answer.
Rowan didn’t answer.
The door opened without a knock. The light inside was warm, deceptively so. Dr. Sinters looked up from a datapad in surprise—and then alarm.
She didn’t have time to scream.
In a fraction of a second, Sam had a blade to her throat, his other hand fisting her hair and jerking her head back.
“Don’t scream,” he said coolly. “Not unless you want to drown in your own blood.”
Her eyes went wide, and her mouth froze in a silent “o.”
Rowan stepped forward. “Sit,” he said to her.
She didn’t move fast enough. Sam shoved her into the chair.
“We’re not here to play games, Doctor. We need answers.”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered.
Sam pressed the blade tighter. She whimpered.
“Mavis’ scans,” Rowan said. “What was on them?”
“They were normal—just signs of fatigue, maybe dehydration—”
Sam didn’t wait for the signal. He grabbed her hand and snapped one of her fingers backward with a sickening crack.
She shrieked, muffled by his palm.
Rowan’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. “Try again.”
Her chest heaved, face having gone pale, and panic surged in her eyes.
“She has tumors,” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.
Rowan gave Sam another glance.
Crack. Another broken finger and another muffled scream.
“There’s more you’re not telling us.”
Dr. Sinters’ voice was hoarse with tears. “She has dozens of them. All around her heart.” She sniffled. “I don’t know how she’s still alive.”
My breath caught.
Rowan’s voice turned razor-sharp. “Can they be removed?”
“No. Not now. Maybe a month ago—maybe. But they’re too far gone. Cutting them out would kill her.”
He went still. I saw his throat move as he swallowed the grief.
Dr. Sinters looked between us, eyes wide with something colder than fear. “You’re all going to hang for this. The Guild won’t stand for it. They’ll find you—and when they do, they’ll make an example out of all of you.”
Her gaze pinned Rowan. “Even you.”
Rowan didn’t blink.
He gave Sam a silent nod.
The doctor didn’t even scream. Sam twisted her neck swiftly, and she crumpled to the floor with a thud that echoed far too loudly in the small room.
Silence descended, thick and final.
Renata appeared in the doorway, her voice low and urgent. “We need to go. Now.”
So we ran.
Or at least—they ran.
Rowan half-carried me, his breath sharp and jaw clenched. I tried to keep up, but the hallway spun beneath me. My chest burned like fire, every inhale a punishment.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, over and over.
But I was slipping. I could feel it.
Everything went gray. Then black.
The last thing I remembered was Rowan’s voice, calling my name
And then—nothing.