She listens to the silence, waiting for it to speak to her, for the Reaper to come or for the thump of a heart to sound in her ear. But neither makes a sound, and she's left with this deafening silence.

Alicia knows she needs to move, some quiet voice in the back of her head hissing that she needs to get up and keep going. She ignores it, hating the note of desperation in that voice.

She's familiar with such a thing, familiar with desperation as it clawed at her insides, demanding her attention. Half dead in an alley with her blood slick between her fingers. Within the light of her mother's kitchen, trying to muffle her screams as she pulled a bullet from her thigh, blood gushing and her mind dizzy. Back then, she listened to its voice so easily.

She doesn't know where she sacrificed more; fighting in the slums or trying to forget the fighting. Neither compares to the smothering quiet she hears now with her ear pressed to her brother's chest.

She's been here before, her father in her arms, bloodied and broken, died protecting her because she couldn't fight, because she was trying to play the hero, trying to pretend she isn't the monster she knows she is. Kathryn too. Choking on her own blood so Alicia didn't have to.

This time is no different.

Alicia lifts her head, eyes wet with unshed tears as she drowns in the past and the present.

That voice tells her to survive, to keep fighting. She thought she'd cauterised her survival instincts, but nothing will ever be so easy for the wicked.

Alicia closes her brother's sightless eyes and looks upon his beaten face and is only able to see the brother that protected her, that always made her laugh even when hunger clawed at her stomach.

He wasn't meant to be the one that didn't make it home.

She doesn't know how long it takes for her to pull away from him, knowing she can never let him go. But something in her helps her get to her feet, and it's not the desperation she once clung to.

Kieran wouldn't have wanted her to abandon this fight, no matter what happened.

She can't feel her body as she finds the knife that he was looking for and moves to the window. She can't glance back, can't see him lying there and know she's leaving him behind when all she wants to do is join him.

She doesn't belong in the Light, and that's the only reason she doesn't look back. She knows she can't follow him.

Alicia wedges the knife into the window, prying it open with numb fingers, trying to see through her tears.

They were all supposed to make it.

Alicia crawls through the window once she has it open, icy air embracing her, the smell of dirt and grass replacing the stale air of the cellar.

She'll come back for him, she promises herself this much.

Alicia stumbles into the land of hills and fog, freedom feeling like nothing but more chains wrapping around her neck.

She can't move at first, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest and she nearly crumbles, nearly sinks down into the mist to let it consume her.

But loss is a familiar burden to bear, an old lover, the kiss of death upon her cheek almost sweet.

This world never deserved a man like Kieran. She never deserved him.

Her family is what kept her alive in the slums. Her brother had a vision, and she owes it to him to realise his vision.

Fix Muovea, save the slums; what was once their home. It was the only reason she strove to be queen, the reason her brothers went to war. The Zalana's bleed so others don't have to.

Alicia runs through the hills, ice crawling into her bones, the breeze snapping at the bloody shirt. She doesn't register the pain in her ribs, doesn't register the cold that sinks deep into her skin. If she learnt anything through her years of struggle and survival, it's that physical pain is far easier to bear than what tears at her heart.

But she pushes it all down, deep down where she knows it won't stay buried for long. She's always been so good at burying the pieces of herself she doesn't want to see.

She needs to focus. She needs to get to that farm and save who she can before the grand duke can hurt more people because of her. She needs to stop him from getting his hands on Samantha. Light help them all if such a man controlled an army of immortal warriors.

Running without looking back, Alicia stumbles upon the farm as dawn breaks. There's smoke blackening the sky, darkening the golden glow of the rising sun.

Alicia's hand covers her mouth as she approaches, trying to smother the cry that begs to be let out. She slows to a walk as she nears the carnage.

Bodies litter the field, crows already pecking at their cooling flesh. Bile burns the back of her throat as she enters the farm, blood staining the floorboards, the stench of gunpowder and metal hanging in the air.

Amongst the dead are some of the duke's soldiers.

She was too late and she... she did this. She gave these people up to the grand duke and now she doesn't even know whether Oliver is alive of not.

Alicia stumbles out of the farm and retches onto the grass, her hands against her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks.

There are many, many moments in her life that are to blame for why she doesn't belong in theLlight. Every horrid deed is known by the Reaper and nothing she will ever do will make up for them. But this... this is one such deed.

Never have I ever killed innocents.

Alicia wipes her mouth with a bloody sleeve and whispers into the fabric, "Liar."

She did this. Now she has to find the others, stop the duke. She has to begin fixing some of things she's wrought. She has to make this spilled blood mean something, because so much of it never has.

The Reaper walks with Alicia through the fields, watching her, waiting for her to fall and never get back up.

She does fall.

But she stands and keeps going.

He makes a disgruntled noise every time she gets her feet back under her, the ravens caw their disappointment as they fly over her, swirling and watching with black eyes. They taunt her every ragged breath.

Join me, the Reaper seems to breathe down her neck, a gentle caress along her spine. You belong with me, within my darkness, within my shadows, and sins.

She does, but not yet.

She sees her brother, left to that cold stone like he never mattered. But he does matter, and that's why she can't give in yet. For him, she keeps going. For her father, she keeps going. For Kathryn, she keeps going. For Oliver, she keeps going. For the nameless faces that died at her hands, she keeps going. For those innocents she damned, she keeps going.

Alicia grits her teeth and doesn't stop. Even when her wounds weep. Even when the crushing loss demands her to acknowledge it.

She shoves her hair from her face, her abrasions and bruises aching with every huff of her breath, dried blood flaking from her face. But she sees the wall ahead, the dark stone brightened beneath the streams of sunlight that break through the clouds.

She blinks and focuses on her goal ahead, the pain coursing through her sharpening her senses. There's still a chance to save Muovea from the herd, and she has to see it through.

As she nears the wall that surrounds the capital of Muovea, Alicia thinks on what such stone has always meant to her. Mere shade from the summer sun, stories to scare children, hope and dread, but now it's the only thing standing between Muoveans and a herd of the undead sent from the very bowels of the Reaper's den.

If they don't stop them here, then they will all die, immune or not.

Alicia crests the hill that overlooks the train-yard, her breath sharp in her throat and her every muscle tearing itself apart beneath her skin. But the pain, the exhaustion, the memory of Kieran broken in her arms, it all disappears when she looks down at the train-yard and witnesses further the extent of what her treachery has caused.

The grand duke has the rebels cornered, dozens of soldiers by his side with guns aimed at the submitted rebels. Through the tunnel, beyond the wall, fighting can be heard, and judging by Samantha's absence, Alicia knows it must be her and her Ghuls keeping the herd at bay. When they breach the walls, the rebels will be the first to die.

With panic gnawing at her insides like a dog on a bone, Alicia starts down the hill, knowing she needs to do something. She caused this, she has to fix it.

Before she can take more than a few steps, something latches onto her wrist and then she's being yanked to the ground, a gasp leaving her lips as she rolls through the tall grass onto her side. She's faced with fiery locks and Galya with a finger pressed to her lips. Alicia halts, staring at the woman with wide eyes.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Galya hisses.

"What's going on?" Alicia asks as she shuffles onto her stomach to get a view through the grass at the scene before them.

"They're at a stalemate," Galya murmurs, picking up her revolver. "Sergey wants Sam but she's outside the walls. Now he has the rebels and exiles as his hostages." Galya flicks her pale green eyes to Alicia. "When Sam comes back, there's going to be a bloodbath on both sides."

"Where's Oliver?" Alicia asks next, struggling to swallow everything happening but knowing she needs to.

Galya blinks then shifts, glancing behind them with a frown. "He was looking for you. He didn't free you?"

Pressing her lips together, Alicia tries to bury her urge to vomit. He's still with the Ronavics. She doesn't trust the duke's word enough to believe he wouldn't go back on it. Oliver and his family may very well be getting tortured and killed.

"I'm going to put a bullet in his face."

"What?" Alicia asks, forcing herself back into the mess she's currently in.

"The duke," she elaborates with a wave of her gun. "If I shoot him in the face now, then all of this will be over."

"If you shoot him, his soldiers open fire on the rebels. No."

"Then what do we do?"

Every plan, every idea, every hope that Alicia has had, has been crushed and thwarted. She had faith in people to do the right thing for Muovea, but she should have realised when she was an eighteen-year-old girl wielding her pa's revolver and cleaning the blood from her hands that there is no right thing. There is no faith. There is no such thing as luck or good deeds or hope. There is greed and there are monsters and that's the stitching that holds Muovea together.

So, when she looks at Galya, stares at the desperation in her eyes like she's staring into a mirror, she doesn't have an answer. She tried to be the one with the answers and people died.

Maybe it's the fate of all of them to be consumed by the Reaper.

She hears the beat upon the dirt first, a drum within the earth, trembling the ground beneath them. Turning, Alicia spots an entourage of carriages and horses rushing towards them, kicking up dust on the gravel.

As she stares at them, struggling to decide whether to run or demand Galya begins firing, she spots the crest on one of the carriages, inlaid with gold on the dark wood. The royal crest.

Her eyes widen. Sebastian is here.