Iris~~

The moment we're led from the Senate chamber, Lorelei, Basile, and Andrew are taken away, leaving me alone with two Veil.

"Where are they going?" I ask. The Veil instead begin chatting with each other.

I look away from them and to the door and pray that in the next second it will be opened by Jonas.

I didn't want to leave him, but if I had put up a fight, what would that have meant for him? How would they have punished us?

It's a few minutes before the door does open, and Jonas walks out. Alone. He offers me a smile I can see through.

"This way," one of the Veil, his red hair falling in curls to his shoulders, says and starts
walking. The other with cropped black hair falls in behind me and Jonas.

"Where are Basile and Andrew?" Jonas asks me.

"I don't know."

"Are they okay?"

"Do you care?"

He's silent after that.

We head up a flight of stairs, and it isn't until then that I recognize the path we're taking.

How could Amoria let Lorelei and Illias go free? They served Odette. Even if Amoria doesn't care about the blood on her hands, if it weren't for the Society, she would have ended up exposing the Amoris to the people of Earth.

We come to a stop in front of Jonas's door, and I'm grabbed from behind by the Veil with short hair while the other opens Jonas's door.

"Inside, please, Preeminence."

Hesitating, Jonas looks back at me. I jerk in the Veil's grip, but he grabs onto me with both hands and yanks me back.

"Inside."

Jonas's gaze drops to my arm where my Mark is exposed.

"Jonas?"

His eyes flick up to mine. "It's okay." He turns to the Veil holding the door. "I'm going. Don't hurt her."

The Veil nods, and Jonas steps inside his room.

"Get off me." I jam my elbow into the ribs of the Veil. His grip slackens enough for me to take two steps forward before he hauls me back.

"Iris." Jonas holds up his hand, palm facing me. "It will be all right."

Anything else he might want to say is cut off by the Veil slamming the door in his face and locking it.

He wasn't locked up before dinner.

I struggle against the Veil, causing the one with red hair to also grab hold of me. One on each arm, they drag me away from Jonas's room, up and down hallways. What was discussed after I was led out of the Senate chamber? Will I or any of his family see Jonas again? What if his gentle attempts to calm me so I'd go was to keep me away from whatever he knew is coming?

I have to get back to him.

I dig my heels against the floor, but it's too polished, too slick, and I only manage to create a small amount of friction. Not at all enough to slow the Veil.

Ahead, Erik rounds the corner and freezes. "What's going on?"

I tug at the Veils' hold. "They locked Jonas in his room."

Erik takes a step forward and hesitates.

"Interfere, Mr. Blackwood," the Veil with black hair says, "and you jeopardize Ms. Torellae's mission."

Erik's face turns to stone, and he takes a step back.

"Erik . . ."

He looks away.

The Veil usher me forward, but before we'd reach Erik, they take us down a hall to the left.

The Veil who locked up Jonas leans down until his lips hover just above my ear. "My cousin guards Odette Clarignon's cell. He says she never stops talking about the raggioet. I'm sure if it meant shutting her up, my cousin would love for Clarignon to get her hands on you."

At those words, I break.

My knees buckle as my chest seizes, but they don't care. They pull me along as if I'm nothing—I am nothing to them.

When we reach my room, they toss me inside and slam the door.

I find it locked when I try the handle. My hand shakes as I pull it back toward me.

They aren't going to give me to Odette.

He was joking. She's a prisoner.

But so was Lorelei until she proved useful to the Order.

And now I'm a prisoner.

I turn away from the door. On the mahogany bed is a silver box, the kind expensive
dresses arrive in.

My ballgown, I think warily as I approach the bed. This means they plan to keep me alive until then.

I raise the lid and drop it back down onto the box.

Red.

I stagger back, my hands falling to my side.

All I could see was red.

Jonas. Was he gifted a suit in the same color? Red: Amoria's color of mourning. The color the dead—the Expired—are buried in.

What if the ball is meant to celebrate our deaths?

My breath comes out shaky. I have to get out of here.

In a few strides, I reach the door. I rattle its handle, pound on the wood, scream until the tears run down my eyes. Begging, pleading, crying for someone to let me out.

If the window opened, I'd climb out of it. But I already know it doesn't. One of the first things I did when Jonas and I were alone in here before dinner was to check for possible exits. There's only the door. The air vents aren't large enough for me to squeeze through.

I'm trapped, imprisoned.

I slam my palm against the door.

No one's coming.

*****

I fell asleep at some point. I don't remember trying. I only know because grayish light comes through the window—the last I remember, the sky was black—and because I'm on the floor beside the door.

I must have screamed myself to sleep. It's fitting I suppose that for a baby who didn't cry at birth, that I'll do a lot of it at the end.

Iris.

No. I grasp at my Mark, but it's not burning. It hasn't burned too much since landing on Amoria. The Order expected me and Jonas. Our presence didn't confuse their subconsciouses.

Iris.

No.

I grab at my head, at my hair.

Get out.

Iris.

It's like she's here, at my ear.

Haunting me.

Odette.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

It's not real. She's not here. She's not real.

Iris.

Now her voice is at my other ear, like teeth dragging through my eardrum.

She's locked away.

It's my mind. Only my mind working against me. Betraying me. Making me believe things that aren't true.

Iris.

Go. Go away.

Please.

It doesn't matter if I know it's not real, that Odette is only a figment my mind has conjured up.

It doesn't matter because I'll still believe it.

Every time.

Iris.

My nails press into my temple.

Iris.

Jonas.

Iris.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Iris.

Jonas.

I guess this means Bently will be pouring two drinks.