9

“I ’m scared,” I admitted to Roman that evening.

We were sitting on a blanket in front of the fire he’d built. Outside, the wind howled and a branch or something kept knocking against the cabin roof. It wasn’t a storm, not yet, but a bitterly cold wind had started blowing in during the afternoon with gale force strength.

We’d spoken at length over dinner and I’d told him about Axel and everything I’d learned. I’d always known the Rehab Center was a place of nightmares, but now I knew exactly why.

My gaze met Roman’s in the crackling firelight. “What if we fail? What if we don’t get Daniel out in time?”

His jaw squared. “That’s not an option.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself. We can’t fail. That is not an option. That is not going to be Daniel’s fate. I won’t allow it.” I drew in a shaky breath. “But I’m not the bigger-than-life hero everyone keeps making me out to be.”

Roman’s jaw cracked into the semblance of a grin. “Not everyone, only this Axel guy. Should I be worried?”

I slapped his arm. “Roman, I’m serious.”

“You’re stubborn.”

My chin went up. “Are we trading insults now?”

He shifted closer and kissed me on the mouth, a slow, tantalizing kiss that stroked me with desire. “You’re determined to feel solely responsible for Daniel’s situation, and his fate, and it’s not on you. Not even a little.”

“You’re not helping,” I murmured against his bristled jaw.

“I would be, if you weren’t too stubborn to hear me.”

I pulled back to look at him. The look in his eye was heated from our kiss, from the promise of the night, but there was also grit and steel there. He wasn’t teasing.

“I feel responsible.”

“You didn’t lock him up. You’re not sending him to rehab.” He brushed his knuckles across my cheek, his gaze washing me in warmth. “You didn’t even spearhead this rebellion. You spoke your truth, and you wanted change. That doesn’t make you guilty for everything these Sisters of Capra do.”

He wasn’t enamored with the Sisterhood. He was a warden, unaffected by Capra politics, and he’d never brought the council rules into our home or marriage. But he’d developed a personal dislike for the Sisters of Capra, and Geneva. I was in no position to try and change his mind. I had my own doubts, no matter how hard I tried to balance the bad with the good.

“I am responsible,” I said softly. “It’s not about feeling guilty, Roman. I’m responsible for Daniel’s fate because I’m the only person in a position to help him.”

Roman and I exchanged a look of frustration. The wardens weren’t prepared to help. Roman had said as much over dinner, but now he elaborated. “I knew it was a slim chance, anyway. So long as Capra operates efficiently and keeps delivering the goods, they refuse to get involved.”

“How altruistic of them.” My sarcasm was dripping. “They’re happy to trade ovarian eggs from The Smoke, and medical and technical expertise from Capra, but they can’t be bothered to step in when shit hits the fan.”

Roman’s brow quirked. “Do you really want the wardens to interfere in Capra business?”

“Do you always have to be the voice of reason?”

A baritone chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You must understand, those are the boundaries on which the Eastern Coalition was founded. Capra was always meant to be a self-governing town, an experimental capsule left to its own devices. The Smoke provides additional resources, and acts as an outlet for the overflow.”

“Overflow?” I scoffed. “Those are people you’re talking about, citizens kicked out of town.”

He let my protest ride. “The Wardens offer protection from the wilds. We have a decent-sized man-force and stock of weapons, but we’d be overrun if the barons attacked with their hordes. Trade is our best weapon. It’s how we keep the wilds at bay. It’s why the barons are happy for us to preserve this little slice of civilization instead of decimating it. They benefit from all Capra has to offer, too.”

I rolled my eyes. “What about The Smoke and those union families that run The Smelt and The Break? Isn’t that what you wanted? For the wardens to step in and clean up the corruption?”

I didn’t mention the underground human trafficking ring that had taken Amelia from him.

That’s where Roman’s mind went, anyway.

His eyes darkened. “That’s one good thing that’s come out of the Capra Rebellion. If it can happen in town, it can happen in The Smoke. The Protectorate is afraid the union families will get ideas about grabbing more territory, or wrest power from them completely. They’re scrambling to take back control of The Smelt and The Break.”

Relief hit me from all sides. This was what Roman had always wanted, to get rid of the families, to stop the human trafficking of young girls and whatever other nefarious power they wielded. “That’s good.”

“It’s also keeping the Protectorate busy and out of Capra business. Despite the clearly established boundaries, the Protectorate have always aligned themselves closely with the council.”

That could solve a problem I’d been putting off for another day. “Are you saying it’s safe for Daniel and the heirs to stay in The Smoke once we break them out?”

“The Smoke was always safe for them,” Roman said.

“But not safe for Capra,” I argued. “I trust Daniel implicitly, but some of the others…the Otter heir in particular, he’s bad news. He’ll try to enlist the aid of the Protectorate to restore the council. I have to be honest, I haven’t figured out what we should do with them.”

Roman gave that some thought. “No guarantees, but the Protectorate is going to war with the Grabough and Hanson families. They don’t have the capacity to take on an agenda from any of the heirs as well.”

“Not right now, perhaps, but what about later?”

“That depends on the timing, and how the Sisterhood develops their relationship with the Protectorate,” he said. “Once the politics in Capra has settled, I doubt they’ll rock the boat.”

Everything was lining up.

Now we just needed to get Daniel and the others to The Smoke.

But first, there was one more thing I had to tell Roman about. I didn’t want to. We’d only just made peace between us, and we’d never see eye-to-eye on this. Julian Edgar could rot in hell for all I cared, but Roman believed the system was bigger than the individual.

I couldn’t keep this from him.

No more secrets.

“Julian Edgar was admitted to rehab this morning,” I said. “Ward Z.”

Roman shoved both his hands through his hair. His masks were all down tonight, and his expression was pained. “We have to get him out, too. We have to get them all out.”

The councilmen belonged there.

They deserved everything they had coming to them.

Even Ward Red.

I wasn’t a monster, but a mist of fury and revenge invaded my head whenever I thought of Julian Edgar and his cronies.

They’d taken my choices. They’d murdered the hope of me carrying a baby of my own flesh and blood in my womb. They’d taken too much from all of us.

And let’s not forget, there was nothing rehab could do to them that they hadn’t sanctioned, hadn’t condemned countless women to.

“The councilmen have too much power,” I said carefully. I didn’t want to fight about this. “I won’t release them into The Smoke. They’ll claw their way back into Capra, with or without the Protectorate’s help.”

“I don’t like it, but I hear you. Rescuing all the councilmen could be too dangerous. I can’t manage five of them, but I can manage Julian Edgar.” His voice brooked no argument. This wasn’t a matter for debate. “I’ll take him into the wilds.”

“Okay.” I didn’t agree, but I would do this for Roman. “We can include Julian in the rescue mission, if it all works out. But there’s only one plan, we’ll only get one attempt at this, and I won’t jeopardize Daniel.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Roman stood to fetch a bottle of wine and we spent the rest of the evening strategizing. Our plans were loose, mostly vague options thrown into a pot, but it was a beginning.

We refined the plan over the next two days as I familiarized myself with the layout of the rehab building and coaxed further details from Axel.

The graveyard shift was our best window of time, when the rehab center was manned with a skeleton staff. No receptionist on duty and only the one guard stationed there. The overnight ward nurses. The on-call doctor, possibly, depending on whether he decided to be on-site that night…or if we were particularly unlucky and he was called in for an incident.

According to Axel, Ward Red was usually locked down overnight and my security card didn’t give me—or any of the other nurses—access. Thanks to Roman’s insistence that we include Julian in our plans, this was a major hiccup.

After more persistent digging, Axel mentioned an intercom system between the nurses’ stations. He’d been telling me about an emergency. He’d needed a sedative for one of his patients, and he didn’t have access to the controlled-drug cabinet. He’d had to call the nurse from Ward Red out to get the sedative for him.

Slowly but surely, we were batting away potential problems.

By the end of the second day, Belinda and I had finished with Ward X. All but two of the women had been released. We didn’t feel they had a safe environment to return to.

Janice told us to leave it with her. “The council families have been relocated to the Legislative District, and there are several large homes standing empty.”

“That was quick.”

“The sooner everyone moves on from their old lives, the better,” Janice said. “And we’re repurposing some of the properties. Rose has established a halfway home for women at the Otter residence. That should be a good fit.”

That evening, Roman and I reached a disturbing conclusion. We’d been going around in circles with various plans, but only one was almost foolproof. It was simple. Brute force tactics. Our best shot at succeeding. But whichever angle I looked at it, I would not be able to cover my tracks.

I stared into the glass of red wine I was nursing in front of the fireplace. The storm had blown itself out before fully manifesting, but winter was here, and Roman had taken to lighting a fire for us each night. The cabin had heating, but this was more romantic. We were taking all the little moments we could get, in between strategizing this plan that was about to blow my world apart.

“There’s no other way,” I said. “Too much can go wrong. Besides, I’ve been thinking about this. It’s going to be obvious it was an inside job, and Geneva knows how I feel. She’s not stupid. She’ll put two and two together and realize why I wanted to be assigned to the rehab center in the first place.”

“She won’t have proof.”

“Trust me, that doesn’t factor into any of her decisions,” I said. “She locked up the heirs, not because they’ve done anything wrong, but because they may cause problems one day. The risk is too great all around. If I stay in Capra, she will have me arrested. And if we go with a weaker plan that protects my role in this, it could fail, and she’d probably come after me anyway.”

Roman and I drank our wine and thought on it, and he eventually conceded. “We have the apartment in The Smoke. You’ll be safe. The Protectorate doesn’t have the bandwidth for Capra’s troubles right now.”

“And even if they did, I’m handing them the heirs.” That’s where their allegiance would be right now. I would be safe. That wasn’t my concern.

There was also Roman to consider. He was my husband. We were irrevocably bound together in all our deeds—and misdeeds.

“What about you?” I asked. “Will this cause trouble for you with the wardens?”

“The wardens are committed to remaining impartial for the moment.” He didn’t sound concerned, but maybe he was downplaying it for my benefit. “I won’t throw it in their faces, and I won’t be acting in any official capacity as a warden.”

“Geneva won’t see it that way.”

“Geneva’s personal grudges won’t affect me.” He shrugged. “Besides, there’s no reason for me to be in Capra. I’ll put in for a transfer. That should make everyone happy.”

“Except for James.” The senior warden was fully invested in Roman’s personal future and ambitions. That’s why he’d brought Roman to Capra. He was in the process of stepping down and ushering Roman into his position.

“Except for James.” Roman cupped my chin and searched my eyes. “What about you ? You would be leaving Capra behind. Your family. Your friends. It will be a long time before you’d be able to return. Maybe never.”

Could I really do that?

For Daniel?

But it wasn’t just for Daniel. It was for all of them, all those lives destroyed by their fathers’ sins, by some perceived treachery that lay in their future. Even the Otter heir, who made my skin crawl, hadn’t done anything wrong. Not yet. Possibly not ever.

It was wrong.

We shouldn’t erase someone’s soul because of something they may or may not do one day.

“But I will get to live,” I said to Roman. “Daniel and the other heirs deserve that, too. To live, not simply to just exist as empty shells.”

It was decided then.

My heart was already aching for the people I’d leave behind. And for myself, if I were being honest—for my life in Capra.

But I would have Roman, and he was my home.

I would be okay.