Undergrounders were accustomed to possessing very little, but the unit used to jail Ryker had nothing but a thin bedroll on the floor, a partitioned area with a toilet, and a small wash basin. Anything sharp, heavy, or that which could be used as a type of weapon had been removed, including linens or furniture. No table, chair, nothing.

Ryker sat against the corner on his worn bedroll, resting his forearms on his crossed legs. He barely acknowledged Kanden or his mother with a cursory glance, and he completely ignored Olivine.

Taking in the sparse room, Kanden frowned. "Where is everything?"

"We needed somewhere to place the prisoners," she replied, blasé to the inhumane conditions.

"But it's empty."

Olivine's features curled into a sneer as her steely gaze sought to suck the warmth from the room. "So? They're criminals. Why do they get to enjoy comforts while the rest of us mourn and bust our asses with extra work?"

"It's barbaric," he snapped, curling his fists. "We are not going to become monsters."

Dropping her voice, she growled into his ear, "This wouldn't have happened if they hadn't incited that violence. They are guilty; not us. He and anyone else who encouraged the people to react violently deserve to rot."

Kanden held his breath and stopped himself from lashing out. Ryker often said the same about the Elites; the only difference was he had joined the losing side. Kanden could have easily been in his place if Father hadn't survived. Instead of Ryker forced in this prison, it would have been him huddled in the corner on a bedroll.

"We don't know what he did," he retorted, putting space between them. He wanted to tell her to keep her biased opinions to herself, but he couldn't say with any certainty if her peers shared her sentiments. There had been rumors in the past of Enforcers trying to beat a confession out of people, but again, it was all hearsay. But her attitude indicated some of those previously executed might not have been guilty of their perceived crimes.

Rumi watched the change behind a wary mask, tucking her hands into her long sleeves. A few seconds into their pause, she said, "May we have chairs? My knees aren't what they used to be, and Kanden shouldn't be aggravating his injury."

When Olivine rolled her eyes and strode to the door to speak mumbled instructions to the guards, Rumi whispered, "Sometimes, it is best not to cross fire with fire. Show a little respect, even if the other person doesn't deserve it."

He was about to ask what that had to do with chairs when Olivine and the guards brought in a quartet of chairs. All showed signs of wear and tear, but only one wobbled, which they predictably placed beside the bedroll. As the two sentries shuffled back to their post at the door, Olivine addressed Ryker and pointed to the unbalanced seat. "Get up, and don't try anything. I'm not crawling to your level to speak, you understand?"

Ryker rolled his eyes but used the wall to heave himself up and take the rickety chair, keeping his hands in sight at all times. As Kanden, Rumi, and Olivine sat across from him, he scoffed. "I'd welcome you to my humble shithole, but it appears you've already made yourself comfortable."

Pink burst across Olivine's cheeks, making the rest of her skin appear translucent in the dim lighting. Aside from her visible annoyance, she didn't take the bait as she took a comfortable stance and planted her feet on the floor. "If I were you, I'd cooperate. You're lucky the younger Calvorite took pity on you."

The younger Calvorite is right here, you stupid bitch.

A gentle touch from Rumi's steady hand doused Kanden's inner fire before he could blurt something he'd later regret. She gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head as if she'd read his mind, nonverbally commanding him, Don't.

So he didn't.

Ryker merely blinked and sucked in his cheeks while folding his arms. His messy hair curled around his ears and at the nape of his neck, highlighting the angular features in his gaunt face, brought on by sickness and malnutrition.

Unable to catch Ryker's eye, Kanden traded glances with Rumi, who sighed. The bunched, coarse fabric of her skirt in her fists was the only outward sign of Rumi's agitation. She sat straight as a rod, perched on the edge of her seat and kept her chin parallel to the ground. Ryker wouldn't meet her gaze either, but he hunched forward beneath her disappointed stare. "Ryker, we only want to understand why you did this."

His nose twitched, signaling a quiet anger Kanden knew well. Ryker was shutting down; closing himself off and building a mental wall to keep everyone out. When he got like this, no one could reason with him.

Kanden scraped his bottom lip between his teeth until they swelled. Now he was there, with Ryker, he didn't know what to say or ask. Not with Olivine salivating for a confession and Father on bed rest, blitzed out of his mind. Even Yasmin would have been preferable. At least she seemed more level-headed.

Ignoring the she-devil to his right, Kanden tapped his boot on the dusty floor. "If you won't talk about the riot, at least tell me why you lied. You owe me that much."

Ryker shook his head. "Not with her in here. The enforcers will twist anything I say and use it as an excuse to publicly vilify me. If I'm gonna die anyway, I can do it with my dignity intact."

"You aren't in a position to make demands." Olivine's words carried a sharp edge, reminding everyone who was really in power. "People are dead because of you."

Rumi snapped her head to the right, glaring across Kanden's lap. "Bastion said to bring an enforcer, but that does not give you a right to harass my son. If you refuse to cease your hostilities, then I will request someone else."

With Olivine wearing an equally outraged scowl and staring from Kanden's other side, he scooted his chair backward. He didn't want to be caught in the crossfire, especially between two angry women. "You won't find any sympathizers among the enforcers. Ask whatever you need now because you probably won't have another chance once the tribunal sentences him."

Kanden's stomach clenched at the insinuation, but he had to believe Father would keep his word. "You're wrong," he said past the expanding lump in his throat, fighting the panic threatening to escape. He dipped his head at her withering scowl, but continued. "The verdict must be decided by a panel of at least three to five judicial members. They must hear all evidence and remain impartial."

"He was part of their cause," she snarled, pointing at Ryker. "He's all but admitted his guilt during that farce of a trial, almost had your father killed, and now you what to defend him?"

He shook his head and kept his voice even. "No. I want the truth, but I won't get anything if you intimidate him. If you won't leave, go stand by the door or something. I'll sit here all night if I have to, and you can explain to my father how you let your pride stand in the way of justice."

Rising to her feet, she bent forward until their noses were centimeters apart. Her steely irises were like tempered metal — unyielding and cold. "I will stand at the entrance, but don't expect me to leave that traitor on his own with anyone. That includes you, Calvorite. I respect your father, but you need to listen to your head instead of your heart. He can't be trusted."

Kanden flinched when she raised her hand, worried she planned to strike him but was met with a whoosh of air when she spun and went to the door. There, she leaned against the wall for support, crossed her ankles, and examined her hand as if she hadn't a care in the world. Her posture gave her away, though, in the way her arms tensed under the fabric of her black uniform or the slight heave of her chest when she inhaled. Her baton hung from her hip, marred by scratches and an unidentifiable substance.

Facing forward again, Kanden observed as Rumi made the first move. "What are you thinking? How long have you been part of this underground resistance?"

Ryker said nothing, and Rumi sniffed, prompting him to glance up and away again. He jumped when she released a choked sob. "Damn it, just tell me!" She rubbed her sleeve across her cheek. "What ever made you think it was right to harm others? Children died in that riot!"

"I never wanted that to happen!" Tears pooled in his dark eyes, but refused to fall when he finally looked up. His shoulders jerked in unison with his choppy gasps, like he was struggling to contain his emotions. "I didn't know anything was going to happen." He buried his face in his hands and coughed. Then he scrubbed his sleeves over his skin until his face turned red and he dropped his hands. "I swear on everything good I had nothing to do with this."

Kanden believed him, the previous deception be damned. Strong emotions made Ryker uncomfortable — he'd tolerated Kanden's low moods for whatever reason — but he never, ever cried in front of people. He displayed silent anger on occasion when Sabre or other elites flouted their status, expressing himself through closed and coiled body language. Sometimes he'd display aggression when people annoyed him. But to weaken himself with tears? Never.

"But you know who did," Rumi replied, hanging her head when Ryker closed his eyes. "How long have they been planning a coup? When did you become involved with them? What did Kanden ever do to deserve you stringing him along and toying with his feelings? I raised you better than this."

Questions spewed relentlessly, reducing Ryker to nothing as he cowered in his chair. Tears fell and snot flew as he fell apart, and suddenly, Kanden didn't want answers; not like this. Seeking answers wasn't worth the cost of his emotional well-being.

"It's okay," he said suddenly, grabbing his chest. His heart slammed into his rib cage so hard, he lost his breath. "I don't need to—"

"It was right after Dad died," Ryker interjected. He reached for Kanden but stopped when his gaze traveled toward Olivine, who watched with rapt interest. Swallowing, Ryker softened his voice, spilling the entire story between hiccups. "It wasn't fair. He worked so hard in those tunnels, only to get sick from poor rations and toxic air. But he found something."

Rumi touched her fingers to her lips. "Ryker, Devri was a good man, but he had an over-active imagination. People searched for those hidden passages, remember? They don't exist."

"Wait." Kanden lifted his hand and furrowed his brow, thinking about those schematics and hidden access points. Working his mouth, he tried to articulate his questions into coherent words. "What tunnels?"

Was it possible they were the same? Kanden hadn't known Ryker well enough at the time to ask, and the latter never spoke of Devri.

Ryker shuddered and moistened his lips. Gaze unfocused and directed downward, he waved his hands. "Um, it's been so long, but he used to tell me stories about our ancestors' descent into the caverns. They didn't know when they could go out, and before they died, the Founders were rumored to have hidden any exit that could kill our only chance for survival. No one knows for sure, but it's speculated they left instructions; either for the Council or their families. I guess no one really knew until now," he finished, giving Kanden a meaningful look.

Nerves jittered and muscles tensed as Kanden fought to maintain his composure. He did not want Olivine overhearing anything that could point her in the direction of those schematics.

Rumi saved him from responding by throwing her hands in the air. "Half these tunnels collapsed or were blocked off decades ago! There's no telling what he saw, but it wasn't a damn exit."

He shrugged, apparently opting not to argue before changing the subject. "Anyway, I found it through the parties in the old abandoned mines. That's where I was introduced to people who knew other people. We were all miserable in one way or another, and they made me feel valued."

Kanden did the math in his head. Ryker would have been around fifteen when Devri got sick. Ryker was only three years older, and Kanden was too young to remember much of the older man. Only that he always looked tired under all the dirt and grime. But all this time, and no one knew any better.

"Seven years," Kanden drawled. "This group has been around for at least that long, and you knew. Was I an easy mark for you to burrow into the higher social circles?"

The following wince answered the question perfectly, hitting him square in the gut. His head swam, threatening to send him to the floor in a faint. Seven years... three of which had been spent together, and he never once suspected. Had defended Ryker's honor to the reward of proving everyone right: that his boyfriend was a social climber who had conspired to overthrow the leadership.

His first instinct was to cry, but no one survived long without developing thick skin. Tears didn't solve their problem. No, no, he needed to think. To be logical and rational. He rocked back and forth in his chair, softly smacking his wrists against his forehead.

"I'm so sorry."

Ryker might as well have been in the Overland for all the attention Kanden paid, lost in an unraveling spiral of emotion. Anger, confusion, despair, irritation at himself for being so stupid... That's all he was: stupid, just like everyone had said time and again since the time he was old enough for conscious thought.

His rib ached from the motion, but he couldn't stop the jitters in his hands any more than he could silence hundreds of unfiltered thoughts overwhelming his poor brain.

When someone tried to pry his wrist away, he batted their hands, locking himself into his mind, where no one could get inside. His thoughts offered safety from everyone else. This time, when a stronger grip took his other wrist, he jerked his arm, rubbing his tingling skin from where the physical contact lingered. "Don't touch me."

"Kanden, sweetheart, you need to take a deep breath," Rumi instructed.

He couldn't. He didn't want to.

"Kanden. Look at me."

Only Ryker's soft words, spoken like a whispered command, proved effective in pausing Kanden's turbulent thoughts. Shaking, he managed to open his eyes, but he wanted to run. From Ryker's confession and anyone present to see him unravel. He wanted to be alone but there was nowhere else to go.

"Listen," he commanded, taking Kanden's wrists and looking him straight in the eye. "I love you." He enunciated each word with conviction and unwavering certainty. "You were my target three years ago, but I left the cause after only a month with you. Your mother was kind and you were so good; I couldn't betray you and Ivarra. Not after what you've both done for my family."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" He would have understood. Or he would have tried. Anything was better than learning like this.

Ryker frowned and shook his head slowly. "Because I'm a coward. And truthfully, I do resent your privilege and the others who flout it. I hate your father for always treating me like nothing, for hurting you every time he called you weak or something offensive. I know he's your dad, but what loving parent tries to convince their child to change? You know they'll expect you to have an heir, and the Founders never would have allowed us to be together."

Everything he said was true, though Kanden had defied the expectations anyway, assuming he and Ryker had been fine. Their love hadn't been a secret, even if they endured verbal abuse for it. Being gay wasn't even a crime — the offense had been seeking a relationship with someone outside their social station. Most people didn't care about same sex relations as long as someone provided a child, and it had never once occurred to Kanden that they wouldn't raise a family together if he'd been inclined to procreate.

All this time, while he had thought things were okay the way they were, with Kanden taking care of Ryker and Rumi's needs, he hadn't considered his boyfriend's struggles.

Relaxing in Ryker's grip, he leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. "You really didn't know?"

Ryker shook his head. "No."

Curling his fingers over Ryker's hands and keeping his eyes closed, Kanden steeled himself for one more answer. "Did you have an affair? Blaze and Zephyr both insinuated as much."

Scooting back but keeping their hands linked, Ryker scoffed. "No. I can honestly say I did not."

"Then why would they say it?" Kanden demanded, unwilling to let this go until he knew everything. "You go to the parties, and word gets around."

"People gossip," Ryker stated in an annoyed tone. "That doesn't make it true. Sometimes, when the rebels wanted to talk, they'd use different people to approach me. Men, women, didn't matter — it added to the perception we were having fun, and every now and then, someone would greet me with a touch or a kiss even though I made it clear I didn't like it. They said it was more convincing, and I left it alone, but I never once returned the gestures."

That seemed plausible enough. Ryker wasn't the overly affectionate type, especially in public. But it was so easy to listen to everyone else when they said the same thing, whether they were friends or rivals. Whether it was true remained to be seen, but Ryker hadn't hesitated with the details. All Kanden could do was take his word for it, but was that enough?

Olivine shifted nearby, startling Kanden. In his moment of fight-or-flight, he'd forgotten everyone else existed. She angled her chair so she could face them all equally, studying Ryker with open curiosity in her curved brows and wide eyes, replacing her earlier hostility. "Ryker, would you be willing to give us names? We need to know the full scope of who and what we're dealing with."

"No."

Rumi and Olivine both gaped. Kanden wrinkled his nose. "What? Why? You didn't orchestrate the mob, so—"

"I'm not outing people just to save myself." Anger burned behind his eyes as his mental walls went back up, and he folded his arms across his chest. "Besides, I couldn't tell you who actually participated. I was bedridden after being poisoned, remember?"

Rumi raked her hands through her hair. It had come out of its tie, hanging limp and tangled over her shoulders. "Ryker, Bastion is willing to hear you out." She raised her hand and glared when her son opened his mouth to interrupt. "I am still speaking, and you will listen."

Ryker backed away and promptly closed his mouth.

Not missing a beat, she continued. "Withholding their names is a form of abetting the rebels' crimes. If you truly want change and to do the right thing, you'll start talking. You picked a side, and now there are consequences to pay. The least you can do is accept responsibility for your actions. You shame yourself."

Gods, this woman was terrifying. Perhaps her calling should have been in security.

Hands on the edge of his seat and backing into his seat, he nodded quickly. "Yes, ma'am."

Kanden took this as his cue to give Olivine and Rumi a chance to question Ryker. Now that the brash enforcer didn't appear ready to carry out her own justice, he stood. "I'll give you all some privacy. Please don't harm him," he pleaded quietly.

"I won't," she promised with a heavy sigh. "If he's willing to speak, I'll listen, but I can't speak for the council."

It was the best Kanden could ask for. Nothing was guaranteed, but the assurance helped. Looking at Ryker, he said, "I can't tell you what to do; only you can decide what's right, but if I were you, I'd cooperate."

As he moved to leave the room, Ryker stopped him. "Can you forgive me?"

Ryker's dark eyes were so earnest and vulnerable, seeking absolution Kanden wasn't sure he could give. So much trust had been broken, and it wasn't something they could rebuild in a snap just because Ryker was sorry. However, it was a start in the right direction.

"I love you," he said, because that wasn't a lie. "But I can't answer that question." His eyes burned as Ryker's hopeful expression failed, but Kanden couldn't force himself to make an empty promise.

When he could no longer bear the crushing disappointment reflecting in Ryker's eyes, Kanden left as fast as he could shuffle, passing the guards at the door and wandering into the tunnels with a heavy heart.