Chapter 2

A s Gideon made his way through the corridors to the east wing of the Tower, his blood was fizzing.

His father had called him son . His commander had called him son, and it annoyed Gideon that it meant so much to him. It shouldn't. It should have been a normal thing, but it wasn't. That annoyed him because the minute he had left the Commanding Office, he knew he had been played.

Viktir had played his weakness too, not just Emara's.

Somehow, he always felt exploited after leaving the Commanding Office. The paper in his hand felt wrong. The treaty between his clan and House Air burned his hand like he was holding a hot spindle.

It just felt…wrong.

How could it feel so wrong when it was something that he had been willing to fight for not long ago?

Finally standing outside her door, he knocked three times and called her name. "It's Gideon. Can you let me in?"

The Gods only knew how many times over the last few months he had begged outside this very door for her just to talk to him. He had tried so hard. He had tried everything he could. He had to smooth things over between them. It was an order.

The handle turned quickly, and Artem Stryker opened the door. He shook his newly tattooed head—an inked arrow flew through the shaved part of his hair—and pulled a face that gave a warning. "Tread lightly, my man. Tread lightly."

Gideon nodded and walked past the warrior who deserved more credit than he was getting right now. Artem was practically a one-man-band of protection at this stage. With Magin gone and Torin's absentee nature, Artem was holding the fort together for the Empress of Air.

Gideon's gaze found her instantly. Emara lay curled beside the big bay window, perched against an array of coloured cushions. She didn't take her gaze off the city view as he came into the room.

She was in her favourite thinking place.

She didn't even cast her eyes over him as she said, "If you came here in your father's shadow to coax me into signing that Gods-forsaken treaty, you can see yourself out, Gideon."

Gideon centred himself and placed his hands (and the treaty) behind his back. "I am here to check if you are all right after…after that meeting."

She turned to face him then, rage still burning bright in her eyes. "Do you think you would be all right if the commander threatened to use your weakness against you?"

"He already does." It was out his mouth before he could stop it. "He does it every day."

She stilled, her eyes finding something on her hands. "I am sorry, Gideon. I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," he insisted, walking a little closer. "I don't like what he did in there either. I don't agree with him using your secrets against you. It's a dirty move. I hate how he does that. I wish I could change it."

Gideon could feel Artem stiffen behind him. He was one of the protectors of Emara's secret. "I know," was all she said before looking out at the city below again, the wetness of her eyes highlighted by the lowering sun. "I hate that he has something over me. Something that I can't change."

Gideon nodded and walked over to where she lay against the backdrop of the Huntswood. She looked so at home. "He told me after you left that courting is over, but I am sure I can push it out for another month or two. We don't need to rush anything. We can make this work. But we need to come up with a plan. Maybe you could fake an illness for a few weeks."

Even if it wasn't what she wanted, even if he wasn't what she wanted, he would still do it to protect her. He would do anything to protect her. A dull ache lingered in his chest.

A horrible laugh left her throat; it didn't sound like her. "Gideon, my time of pushing this inevitability back has come to an end." Her eyes met his, and like always, his heart hammered in his chest when she did. "And you know it too. This haunts my every waking moment, and just when I think I am done with the pain of my nightmares, I dream of this too." She splayed out a hand, acknowledging the paper that he thought he had hidden behind his back. "This is my true nightmare. It's not my choice. Torin gave me that choice back, and your father has ripped it away. He talks of my blood…he is the monster."

Gideon stood before the stinging in his heart took over and his eyes found his boots. "I wish I was him. I wish I could be my brother for you, but I am not. I am so sorry for that."

Emara's head turned so quickly to face him. "Please don't say that. You shouldn't be sorry. You don't want this either." She stood, the sadness overwhelming her eyes. "I can see it on your face, Gideon. It is killing us all, not making us stronger. You don't want this. None of us do."

Shit, only Thorin knew what he wanted. His heart was being pulled in every direction possible.

"All I want is for you to be happy and safe," he whispered, more than aware that Artem Stryker's eyes were on his own boots now too.

Emara's throat bobbed. "Maybe if I—we could just get through to Torin, maybe if you told me—"

"No, Emara." The voice belonged to Artem, and he began to walk forward to stand near Gideon. "We are not telling you where he is. He'd kill us. He doesn't want you to know. You need to stop asking us."

Hurt splashed across her face, and it was so painful to see her heart continuously break.

"We made a promise to him, Emara." Gideon's voice was so small he didn't recognise it. "We promised him that if he left the Tower, we wouldn't tell you where he was. It's not safe for you to go after him."

Emara bit her lip and folded her arms around herself. She seemed to ponder over thoughts, and Gideon wasn't sure if he liked it when she was quiet. He shot a glance at Stryker; his expression was puzzled, confirming that he was in the same boat.

Seconds later, she had moved to her bathing chamber and come back out fully cloaked. She brushed past Gideon's shoulder, and Artem began to move after her.

"Excuse me." Artem pulled on her cloak, and she turned to him with fire lighting in her eyes. "Where do you think you are going?"

"I need to see him, Artem. If I am signing any treaty, I need to speak to him first. I need to see it in his eyes that he has truly given up the fight."

The fight for them.

Gideon moved then too. "You won't find him." He managed to put himself in between the door and the Empress. She walked towards Gideon anyway. "Emara, listen to me. You won't find him."

She halted. "And why is that, Gideon?" She looked around. "Because you all hide secrets from me?"

"Because you have no idea where you are looking." Artem grinned dangerously.

That didn't faze her. "Then I guess I will start with the taverns in the markets. Surely, I will hit a bullseye at one point."

"You won't," Gideon interjected. "It's not safe in the markets for an empress. Not alone."

"Then come with me."

"No," both hunters said, unified.

She let out a frustrated breath. "I am done pretending that I am some unskilled witch who can't defend herself and that he is not out there hurting, possibly drinking too much, and on the route to self-destruction after having declared a civil war against his father. I have sat here for months and played the role of the self-controlled empress, and I have been nothing short of miserable. As I was reminded tonight, I am a half-breed, not a full-blooded witch, which means I need to fight a little bit harder than everyone else here for what I want. And I will put up a fight a little bit longer because Torin did that for me when I needed him to." Her voice broke, as did Gideon's heart. "I must fight for him. I can't pretend that he didn't make promises to me, Gideon; I am sorry, but I can't. Your father is putting you in the crossfire of that and it is not fair." She paused. "And if Torin no longer wants to hold up those promises, then my heart will break, but at least I will know for sure and I can fulfil my duty . I need to hear it from his own mouth. If what we had wasn't real, he will let me go. And if it wasn't real, then I will let him go too. But you need to let me try and get through to him. Please."

Artem shook his head and then gave Gideon the eye.

And maybe she was right. She had a huge point. How could he go through with a marriage if Emara loved his brother, chose his brother? How could he sleep next to her at night and give her everything a marriage had to offer if her heart was spoken for? If her heart would never be his? He would have no other way of finding out if Torin just lurked in the shadows of his union. If his brother would always be the other person in his marriage, could he really go through with it? Would that really be the best alliance for his clan?

But what other option did Gideon have?

If the Gods had willed Emara and Torin struck by fate, Gideon had to know too. He had to test it properly.

Maybe he should tell her.

"He's not in the taverns, Emara." Gideon hung his head.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Artem placed a hand on his shoulder and patted him down. "Hold on there, buddy, we are not giving in to her that easily. That's what she wants. I've put up a fight for months. I am not going to let you ruin that because she has batted a few eyelashes."

"Giving in to her?" Emara reeled. "Batted a few eyelashes?"

Artem spun. "Yes, giving in to you. Luckily, my heart doesn't lie with you and therefore I can think straight and not with little Arty." He threw a look at Gideon, and Emara pulled a disgusted face. If it weren't such a serious conversation, Gideon might have laughed. Artem glanced back to Emara. "That's what Gideon is about to do here, give in to you, because the Blacksteels seem incapable of standing up to you. But I won't falter. My brain is stronger than little Arty is—which isn't so little, by the way."

"You really are revolting," Emara scoffed.

Artem turned back to Gideon, unfazed by her repulsion. "Torin will fucking kill us if we tell her where he is, never mind allow Little Miss ‘ I Want To Wander About Without My Guards Because I Am A Big Strong Empress ' to head into the underground alone."

Gideon straightened as Artem stiffened.

"The underground?" Emara exclaimed.

"Fuck." Artem ran a hand down his face that was covered with a detailed skull as he turned ghostly white.

"Well done on containing that top secret information, Stryker." Gideon clapped his hands. "You did such a marvellous job. Maybe you should worry about yourself next time and not about me since you and little Arty are absolutely shit at keeping secret information secret! "

Artem threw him a rude gesture and looked down at his pants. "He didn't mean that. He's just an angry Blacksteel."

Emara's hands flew out from under her cloak. "Are we talking about the same underground that runs below the city?" Her eyes bulged from her face. "Where trade dealings the markets won't even allow take place?"

"Shit, shit, shit." Artem inhaled and then exhaled, scratching his head. "Can you not just forget I said that?"

"Artem, this isn't funny. Why is Torin underground in the tunnels? What is down there for him?" She looked from Artem to Gideon, who both stood quiet. "Answer me."

Wind blew through the room, hot and heavy, bristling Gideon's hair and touching his skin.

"Emara, you don't want to know what Torin is doing down there. It's not important," Artem tried to reason with her.

"It's not important? Are you joking right now? Of course it's important; nothing that happens down there is legal and everything that happens is dangerous, so I think you will find it is extremely important to me. If he is making some kind of dark deal—"

"Look"—Gideon stepped towards her—"how about Artem and I go and give him a message from you?"

"Over my dead body are you going to see him without me. This is my fight." She placed her hands on her hips.

"It might be your dead body if you get caught in a brawl in the fighting pits."

Gideon let out a sigh and pinched his nose. "For fuck's sake, Artem!"

"I've done it again, haven't I?" Artem sighed, cringing.

"Yup." Gideon let out a long breath.

"This is witchcraft," Artem challenged and pointed at Emara, who had gone scarily quiet. "She is doing this to me. I am normally good at keeping secrets but Little Miss I Need to Know Everything just has a knack for ripping the secrets from my tongue."

Gideon rolled his eyes. "She's hardly ripped the secrets from your tongue, Stryker."

"The fighting pits?" Emara had paled. "The fighting pits?"

"Emara, let me explain." Artem tried to block her exit to the door now too.

She batted one hand and Artem's monstrous body was moved aside like a feather in the wind. He slammed against the wall, and her eyes pinned on Gideon. "Move out of my way, Gideon Blacksteel, or you are next."

Gideon cursed under his breath and moved to the side as Emara blew the door open with one flick of the wrist. She peered over her shoulder and stopped as she left the threshold of her chambers. "You are either with me or you are not. And if Torin finds out you have let me go to the pits of the underground myself, I don't fancy your chances. He is still my lead guard."

Gideon cursed again, and Artem mirrored him as he pulled himself upright. They both gave each other a look that said the same thing—this was going to be a disaster—and followed her out the door.