Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dahlia
Afew days later, I wake to the pale grey light of winter leaking through the window and the muffled sounds of voices outside.
For a moment, I burrow deeper under the covers, chasing the last fragile wisps of dreams where I am not hopeless, not alone. Where silver eyes still watch over me and strong arms still wrap around me like I belong. Like I am his.
But then—a voice.
Every muscle locks into place, my breath turns to ice in my lungs. My body is already processing the danger that my mind is slowly coming to realize. I know that voice. And it has no place here.
“Ben,” I hiss. I bolt upright, my heart scrabbling against my ribs like a caged, frantic thing bent on escape. No. It’s impossible. But even as I think it, I already know the truth.
I throw off the blankets and stumble to the dresser, yanking out clothes with shaking hands. The room is freezing, but the chill barely registers. Adrenaline has wiped away the last traces of sleep, leaving me hyper-aware, my mind a frantic mess of questions.
How is he here? Why is he here? And how the hell did he find me?
I pull on thick socks, gloves, my parka—layering up as if armor could protect me from whatever is about to happen. But no amount of fabric can guard against the sickening, crawling dread twisting in my stomach.
By the time I lace up my boots, my fingers are numb—not from the cold, but from how tight I’ve been clenching them. I shove my scarf up over my face, drag my hood low over my forehead, and force myself to breathe.
I wrack my brain, trying to recall if I had told Ben the name of the guesthouse I was staying in. But I must have, because how else could he have found me?
I need to find Sita and warn her not to tell him I’m here. She was wrong. The gods haven’t smiled down on me. I’m fucking cursed.
Moving with slow, deliberate care, I crack my door open and peer outside. The bright glare of snow makes me squint, but the path to the lobby is clear. I slip out, keeping my footsteps light.
But the second I step inside, the air whooshes from my lungs on a startled gasp. Ben is casually sitting in front of the fire, a cup of tea in his hand like he belongs here. Like he’s been waiting for me.
My stomach drops as the world tilts sickeningly sideways. He looks exactly the same. Exactly the fucking same. As if he isn’t the shadow of a life I tore myself free from. But it’s the expression on his face that turns my blood to ice.
A smirk sits on his lips. Smug. Satisfied. Expectant. As if he knew I would come.
I rip my hood back and yank down my scarf, my voice like steel when I spit out his name. “Ben.”
His evil smile widens, slow and condescending. “Hello, Dolly.”
Rage flashes through me, hot and violent. “Don’t call me that.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Still so sensitive.” He tsks, then lifts his tea as if in a mock toast. “It’s good to see you, Dahlia. I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”
I cross my arms over my chest, holding myself back to keep from lunging at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He takes a slow sip, as if he has all the time in the world. Then, like he’s enjoying this, he says, “I’ve come to obtain the Silene vitalis.”
A sharp, dizzying rush of panic slams into me. No. No, no, no—
I school my expression, stalling for time. “Too bad you came all this way then, because I don’t need your help.”
He lets out a humorless chuckle. “I didn’t say I was going to help you. I said I was going to obtain it.”
This is so much worse than I could have ever imagined. I school my voice, remove all traces of emotion, and say, “You don’t even know where it is.”
His smirk doesn’t falter. “Lucky for me, you already found it.” He stands, zipping up his new, top of the line parka, and points to a logo emblazoned on the chest. “And unlike your feeble attempt at a one-woman research expedition, I have the backing of not only the university, but a pharmaceutical company funding mine.”
His eyes gleam with triumph. “Unlimited money. Unlimited manpower. You were right about one thing. Turns out that enzyme you stumbled on? Pharma is very interested in it. The drug they’ll develop will be worth millions. Maybe billions.”
It feels like ground has opened beneath me and is swallowing me whole, down into a deep, bottomless pit. He’s taking it. He’s taking everything.
Not just my research. Not just my discovery. But, more importantly, Eryon’s home. His last link to his family, his past, and his grief. His future. An unholy trifecta of exploitation.
“No,” I cry, horrified by the thought of pharma sweeping through Eryon’s caves, destroying his home, his paintings, the heart of the mountain where the Silene vitalis grows. I bite back my fear for my Yeti, but I can’t help but say, “This area will be ruined. The people, the environment—”
He cuts me off and says, “You still don’t get it, do you? You could have been something with my backing. Instead you’re nothing but a stupid fucking girl chasing stories instead of science. You should have stuck to plain botany, no one cares about people or culture when there’s money involved.”
Ben turns, brushing past me like I’m nothing. As if he’s already won. He knocks into my shoulder as he passes, spinning me around to look after him. But then he pauses at the door, glancing back with a wicked glint in his eyes.
“I’ve told you before, you really should secure your files better,” he says as if he just can’t help but gloat, and walks out, the door swinging closed behind him.
I can’t breathe. The walls press in, the fire flickering wildly in my peripheral vision as the realization crashes over. My files. He was in my fucking files. This whole time, after being so dismissive of everything I had ever worked on, he had been keeping tabs on my work.
Oh, Dahlia, of course he had, I lecture myself. He had always fallen back on me “helping” him with his, both when he was getting his degrees and as a professor. When in actuality, everything had been my ideas, my research, my hard work and long nights.
All those years, making me feel small. Doubting my research. Calling my passion for ethnobotany a distraction from the true science of botany. He never respected my work, much less me.
But even if he hadn’t respected it, he still used it. Just like he used me. I was always the brains. The talent. The one who did the damn work. And now he’s trying to take everything I have left.
I’m not a “stupid fucking girl.” I was always the woman with the brains in this relationship. And I need to be the brains now.
“Think, Dahlia. Think!” I coach myself out loud. I wrack my brain, trying to remember what I had typed into my notes when I had returned.
Sure, Ben has money. Resources. A team. But he doesn’t know where the special cave is since the exact location isn’t in my notes. But I do. I know I can find it again.
The faint flicker of hope flares in my chest as a plan forms. If I can get to Eryon first—if I can warn him—maybe, just maybe, I can fix this. I just need to find my way back to the main cave system and then make my way back through the tunnels.
The hope quickly dwindles, chased by fear and doubt. I can only hope Eryon will listen to me after I’m the one responsible for bringing this threat to his doorstep. My heart breaks for him as the price of this plant just keeps getting steeper.
I have no choice but to try. I sprint back to my room, hands shaking as I power up my laptop. I need my files. Coordinates, notes—anything that can give me an edge. But when I try to log in, a message pops up.
Access Denied.
Frowning, I check my internet connection and then carefully retype my password and try again. Frustration at wasting precious time courses through me. I know this is the password, I just logged in the other day.
Access Denied.
Frantically I try to reset my password, but when I enter my university email, the same one I’ve used for years, I get another error.
Unknown user.
“Unfuckingbelievable," I complain to the empty room.
He had the university lock me out. The realization slams into me like a physical blow. Ben didn’t just take my research. He took my identity, my work, everything.
The sound of voices has me pressing my face to the window, trying to see what is going on without running into Ben and risking another confrontation. As I see his large, well-outfitted group heading out, I hold my breath, waiting to see what direction they head in.
To my relief, they don’t head towards the river, rather they turn south where the more populated end of town lies. A slow, burning rage rises in me, steady and all-consuming.
He thinks he’s won. He thinks I’ll just roll over and let him take what’s mine. What’s Eryon’s. He thinks I’m the same girl he used to manipulate. The same girl who let him take credit for her work.
But I’m not a girl, not anymore. I grab my pack and shove some extra supplies on top since I don’t have the time to repack it. I stand tall and throw it over my shoulders, yanking the straps tight. I am a woman on a mission.
Ben may have unlimited money and manpower. I can’t help but sneer as I remember the condescending elitist tone he used. But I have something he will never understand.
I have Eryon.
And I’ll be damned if I let him take away the one thing in this world worth saving. The sudden threat has made me realize I love him, and I’m going to protect him. No matter the cost. He’s paid enough. It’s time for someone to show Eryon that he is worth saving, too.