Word Count: 2101

~Aesira

I roll over onto my side, my eyelids heavy as I blink them open.

I barely slept last night. Everin's words kept echoing in my mind, over and over.

Had he told them to me at any other moment, I might have thought he was playing around, taunting me. Like this is just a game, that there isn't anything real between us.

But last night, he was another male entirely. One of predatory focus and assuredness that has offered me no room to excuse this away.

It is getting impossible to run from the truth between us.

Forcing my eyes open all the way, my attention snags on a piece of paper on my bedside table. Leaning up on my elbow, I grab it and study the hurried scrawlings.

Meet me outside, urgently. There is a carriage waiting for you

Everin

My eyes widen. Shit.

Scrambling out of bed, I dress quickly. All fatigue has vanished from my limbs as I shove my feet into some shoes and dash down the hall.

This is where Everin finally does away with me. Instead of killing me off, he banishes me to the furthest reaches of his pack where I will spend my time cloistered by guards.

My heart pounds in my ears about as loud as my footsteps do on the stairs as I scale downward.

He can't do this. All because I broke into his office last night? He told me it didn't bother him — I thought I was off the hook.

I stop abruptly, right at the foot of the stairs.

This must be about what he said to me last night. He's realised I'm a forbidden distraction related to his biggest enemy, and has decided space between us is necessary.

Maven suddenly rushes past, strands of warm brown hair spilling from her updo.

I chase after her, falling into step beside her. "What is happening?"

"I have no idea." Worried lines are etched into her face. "All I know is he has a transport prepared outside."

A new wash of horror drenches me. He hasn't even told Maven, his assistant, what's going on? This can't be good.

"Is he having me moved somewhere else?" I ask anxiously, trying to keep pace with Maven as we breeze through the halls.

"Possibly. I don't know." She glances at me, brows meeting in accusation. "Did you do something to upset him?"

I wince. "Oh you know, only breaking into his office last night."

Maven stops, grabbing my arm. Her filed nails press into my skin through my blouse sleeve, but I know better than to disentangle her from my body when she's like this.

"Why would you do that? I was starting to tolerate you," she snaps before tipping her head back in a groan.

"I...it doesn't matter, it's done now." I gently pry her hand off me.

The blood suddenly drains from her face. "One of the guards mentioned the transport could be going to the prison."

"Oh fuck," I whisper, alarmed.

Without another word exchanged, we continue off down the hall. Outside, it's a mellow day, swathes of light grey clouds pooling around the sun. It's far too normal of a day to be taken to death row.

Everin is speaking to one of his guards near one of his sleek transports, the black lacquer exterior reflecting the sun.

"You can't be serious," I snap as I approach, fingers already bundling into fists.

He drags his gaze away from his guard, pinning me with it. My stomach immediately tightens beneath his scrutiny as I try my best not to recall last night.

'I would make you feel how much I hate you, how much I loathe you for making me feel this way.'

"What?"

"You're really having me sent away? Or are you going back on your word and having me executed for treason." I'm so angry I want to shove him, demand why he is recanting.

He holds his hand up as I stand near, looking as if I'm nothing more than an incessant fly buzzing around his head.

"You are far too dramatic," he drawls. "I am taking you to the prison, but not for the reason you think."

I pause, the anger melting into wariness. "Oh. What then?"

"I'm taking you to visit your death row inmate," he states blandly.

He's taking me to visit Lincoln? The thought is immediately sobering, my anger draining away in a constant ebb.

"Seriously?"

He opens the door to the carriage, nodding inside. "Get in, before I change my mind."

I gape at him as he steps inside, keeping the door open expectantly.

This is probably a trap. A final, devastating trap that will spell the end of my relationship with Lincoln, and probably my life.

But what if it's not? What if I really get to see him?

Before Everin can realise his charity, I drag myself into the carriage, sitting opposite him.

He doesn't acknowledge me as it starts off, looking with cool indifference out the small window.

I let my gaze travel over the hard lines of his face, that seem even harder today. A storm has rolled over his expression, setting in all vicious and unrelenting. He's deeply unsettled, and I fear I have everything to do with it.

"So you've figured out who he is?" I ask, once the estate gates have closed behind us.

"No. I'm having any inmate on death row, who came from your fathers pack, line up in a common space, with guards there, of course." He waves his hands. "You may select your lover and speak to him in a private room."

It's all I can do to stare at him wordlessly for a long moment.

He still won't look at me. His shoulders are tense beneath the fabric of his tailored coat. It's an awfully official choice of garb for a day like this...

"No way. This is your way of identifying him," I accuse.

"I won't be inside the prison," he murmurs.

I don't buy this sudden act of kindness for a moment. "The warden will relay it to you."

His attention sweeps to me. The intensity of it pushes the back of my head against the carriage seat, as if I don't have the strength to endure it.

"He won't. I'm not seeking to know who he is, I'm simply allowing you an opportunity to see him briefly," he explains, eerily calm. "I've reviewed every case on death row and don't believe any of them to be worthy of release. So I'm offering you an opportunity to say goodbye."

My answering exhale deflates my entire chest.

Goodbye.

Were it not for the plan I've been conjuring, I might be sad. Vaguely, I thought there might be a chance Everin would pardon him, but I deep down, I knew he would never.

Anyone who has served in my father's army is worthy of execution, in his mind.

"How can I trust—"

"You can't, but you have to. Otherwise you will not see him at all." He hesitates for a moment. "I hope you trust your lover, for you'll be alone in a room with him."

I frown. I trust Lincoln far more than I trust Everin. I've known him for so many more years, and he's never ended the lives of many of my fellow pack members.

"Of course I trust him. He would never hurt me," I murmur, wrapping my arms around myself.

Everin doesn't look convinced. "Very well."

"Why are you doing this?" I question. "Is this because of last night?"

He flinches at the mention, his eyes darkening. Even more so than usual, he is recoiling into himself, retreating further away from the vulnerable male I've been seeing more and more glimpses of recently.

"Let's not speak about that night ever again, shall we?" His jaw sets in a rigid line, the very ends of his messy hair brushing against it.

"I'm serious...why? I mean, I broke into your office. You don't owe me this gesture." It's so sudden, so shockingly generous. He doesn't have to give me an opportunity to say goodbye, but he is.

Because some part of him, however deep down, cares about me.

He doesn't look at me, only out the window, but his face softens a touch. "Let me do this for you, Aesira. Please."

I don't say anymore. I won't question his charity.

True to his word, Everin doesn't enter the prison with me. I'm escorted by four guards who flank my shoulders as I enter into the gruesome building.

It is large and no doubt crowded with mostly my father's men. I can hear the sounds of the inmates as I'm led into the main entry point, their yells making my skin crawl.

When Everin's pack burns, the innocent ones will be free.

The warden introduces himself to me — he's a troublingly austere, unamused male. He leads me into a room deeper in the prison, where a number of inmates are lined up, including Lincoln.

He's to the left, his face brightening upon seeing me.

My knees almost weaken to the point of collapse. He looks just as I knew him months ago, from before he was taken. I'm transported right back to the devastation I felt when father told me of the capture the moment I look into his light green eyes.

Losing someone I cared about so much was hard. Seeing him again...it sates all those feelings of longing, of missing him.

But there is something missing. I can sense it in the depths of my stomach almost immediately, but I cast the matter to the side.

"I cannot pretend to know why our Alpha is allowing this to occur," the warden says from beside me. "But you shall select the male you wish to convene with, and one of my guards will escort you to a private room."

I dip my head. "Thank you, warden."

The warden departs, leaving me to gesture at my lover.

"Come, Lincoln."

Him and I are both led from the room, and down a narrow corridor. The guard unlocks an office-like room, and we step inside.

I wait patiently while the guard unlocks the shackles from around Lincoln's wrists, freeing him.

This experience has aged him, but only a bit. He is still handsome, even beneath the stubble on his chin that is unfamiliar to me. He's tall, and well-built beneath dark, uniformed clothing he is required to wear.

The moment the guard closes the door behind themselves, I collapse into Lincoln's arms.

"Holy fuck, I missed you," he breathes into my hair.

I nod vigorously, unsure of what else I should do. "I missed you too. So much."

He pulls me back, gripping my shoulders tightly so he can assess me. I suddenly wish I put more effort into my outfit this morning.

His eyes raise to my face, half buried beneath the locks of his light brown hair. "How much time do we have?"

"I'm not sure. As long as we need, I hope," I offer weakly. I need time to convey my plan to him, to ensure he knows I'm not going to let him die in here.

"So I have time to fuck you?" He looks down over my body again, eyes alight with desire.

Neither him nor I have had much action recently. I know I feel pent up, and the ritual with Everin the night of our wedding only seemed to fuel my sexual frustration.

"Here?"

He flashes a grin. "Where else, Sira?"

The nickname bites into me. I don't want to have sex with him. Not here, not anywhere else. That drive for him has vanished entirely.

The way Everin made me feel last night...I never once felt that with Lincoln. There is something about Everin's hatred for me that is fueling his need for me — it mirrors my own, and I'm addicted to it.

I want Everin to carry out his threats. I want to feel his hate for me.

Whatever was between Lincoln and I has fizzled out entirely. It does not mean I don't still love him, nor that I want to let him die in here. I will save him.

"Lincoln," I breathe, resting my hand on his shoulder. "We need to talk."

🩶••🩶

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~Midika 💜🐈‍⬛