ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

I awaken to find myself alone, the morning sun careening through the glass windows of my bedroom. The morning doves coo out on the balcony, a birdsong that eases me deeper into the sheets. They smell vaguely of a thief who makes his appearances in the night, like a fresh evergreen pine mixed with my sweet vanilla. When I close my eyes again, I imagine him still next to me, wasting his precious morning away for an extra hour of sleep.

Waking up next to Tobin would be a dream that can never exist. As the sun's rays brush against my bare skin, I cripple under the reality of what's to come. Tomorrow, I will marry King Leighton. Our kingdoms will form an alliance, a bridge that will end the unrest in our lands.

Despite the matrimony of marriage, I will still deny Leighton what he covets most. An heir. The symptoms of pregnancy are lingering—the exhaustion, the late period, the need to pee all the time—but there's no guarantee that I am truly pregnant, at least not until I confirm with Elena. Yet, I cross my fingers that the signs will continue to show and that there's this little miracle from Tobin inside of me.

Before I can redress myself into a robe, my bedroom door flies open, nearly bouncing off the hinges. It's not often someone intrudes my space, not even my own father, and certainly not when I'm only dressed in a bedsheet.

Elena storms in, closing the door behind her. Her tawny hair remains in a mess atop her head, and those green eyes fill to the brim with fear.

Her jaw clenches, and she sucks in a sharp breath.

Something isn't right.

"Elena?" I question.

"You need to get up now," she whispers, her voice shaking as she nears the edge of my bed. "Your father is expecting you at the entrance to the dungeons."

I scowl, my brows knit together in confusion. "The dungeons?"

"Your father knows, Imogen," Elena sputters as she enters my closet. She tears a simple dress from the rack, tossing it in my direction. "And he's enraged, more so than Leighton."

I stand up, forcing myself into the dress to make myself look presentable. "What's going on?"

"Tobin tried to assassinate King Leighton last night and didn't succeed," she confesses. "Leighton's men caught him before he drove the sword to end his life. They seized him and chained him down in the dungeon—"

"Tobin?"

With the mere mention of his name, my world shatters.

No. Not my thief. He's supposed to be the best in the lands, a criminal uncaught by the royal knights. Tobin never mentioned a damn thing about attempting to assassinate Leighton, never let a thought of his scheme slide through even the most foolish of whispers. No, he couldn't have. Not now. Not before the wedding.

Not when I could very well be carrying his child.

"Tell me he's still alive," I hiss. Attempting to kill the king will certainly send him to the gallows for a public hanging. They'll mock him, scorn him, make him regret the day he decided to kill the king of Adorid. Any man that goes against any crown will meet the gates of death. "Elena, tell me he's alive."

"Tobin still lives," Elena confesses, "although there's a knife wedged into his thigh."

"What?"

"You need to go down there now, because your father wants him dead this very minute."

I burst from my bedroom, spiraling down the corridors of the castle. If only I knew Tobin planned to take the life of the king who threatens to take mine. I could've helped him, let alone warn him not to take Leighton's life in hate, because it would only lead to this. I needed Tobin to be alive, to be free out in the wild. I needed to know that he was okay in order to carry his child in the Adoridian castle.

If only I could've given him more answers to his demands. What if I could've persuaded my father to help the son of Berin Parias? Now, my father wants him dead. Killed. Eliminated from this earth.

I turn into a dim-lit stone corridor, only to have Lorcan's arm swing around my back. The torchlight flickers off his dark skin, but those warm hazel eyes meet mine with such pity. Does he know of Tobin and I? Or does he just view Tobin the same way my father does, a pathetic fool who attempted to murder the king of Adorid at the worst of times?

"Can I see him?" I beg my father's second-in-command, knowing full well he knows who I mean.

"You need to explain this to your father," Lorcan speaks, his eyes warning me of what fury I'll encounter up ahead. "He's not impressed that you kept that measly thief a secret from him."

"He's not measly," I snap. "He's brilliant."

"Not brilliant enough to avoid being imprisoned."

Lorcan and I round a corner, only to be met with the rank moist smell of mildew and still water. The sounds of two voices bickering cut through the heavy atmosphere. One I recognize as my father, reaming at Leighton for trying to control the prisoner sulking in a cell down below, all while Leighton seethes at my father for allowing a thief to sneak into the castle.

Either way, Tobin is down there alone, locked up in filthy chains. Just the image of him in peril nauseates me, and I nearly want to turn back around the corner and vomit.

My father's grey eyes meet mine, holding no ounce of sympathy for his daughter.

"Where is he?" I demand, hoping the strain of fear doesn't warble my voice.

Instead of my father answering, it's Leighton that dominates over us with a thick shake of his head. "This is pitiful, you know. Four months ago you agreed to be my wife, and yet you tossed our betrothal away for that poor excuse of a man contained in a prison cell."

I hold my tongue as my throat falls dry. Leighton wants me to submit to him, to beg on my knees for forgiveness. I won't give him that, because I have no regrets for what I've done.

"I'll ask this once more," I say. "Where is he?"

It's now my father decides to snap. "He's locked up in the dungeon, Imogen. Right where he belongs."

"He doesn't belong there—"

"Damn it, he tried to kill the king of Adorid," my father retorts, brows furrowed in anguish. "What he's done is an inexcusable felony, one that must be dealt with appropriate measures."

Appropriate measures meaning hung by a noose.

"No," without thinking, I barrel towards the entrance of the dungeon, only to be held back by Leighton, my father, and Lorcan in unison. "I want to see him. He wasn't supposed to—"

"He wasn't supposed to what?" my father interjects.

How much of us does my father know? Does he know that Tobin and I fell in love, a love so boundless it trespassed into the boundaries of marriage? Does he think that Tobin and I were just friends, alliances in the midst of a turbulent war?

Leighton forces a sharp laugh. "I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but your daughter and the fool were in love. What he attempted to do upon me was done for her. Obviously, he wasn't impressed with the upcoming wedding."

"That's not true—"

"After we chained him, we stripped him of any weaponry and armour, and we found this around his neck," Leighton reaches into his pocket, pulling out that crescent moon necklace. My necklace. A necklace given to me by my mother on my seventh birthday, one that I gave to Tobin carelessly to sell.

My father's grey irises expand at the sight of that necklace. He knows that it once belonged to his wife, Adirya, and he knows she gave it to me years ago.

"That shouldn't belong to him, Imogen," my father mutters as he snatches the pendant from Leighton's grasp.

It shouldn't, but I trusted Tobin with my heart and soul, and I know my mother is looking down from the heavens above and shaking her head at the mess unfolding before us.

"I want him dead," Leighton spits out. "I can deal with the thief myself, if you prefer not to think about the man who's been whoring around with your daughter. The ways he can redeem himself are endless in my courts."

My lips part in shock, and my father's face drops several shades. Tobin made love to me last night, and the night before, and the night before that, but all of that was done to ensure that my little plan succeeds. Only, Tobin has no idea of what I'm doing. He has no idea how valuable of a role he plays, what role our child will play.

I grab my father by his bicep, spinning him around to meet his daughter's eyes. I've never seen his weathered features so stone cold, lifeless. He's like a statue ready to crumble as the chaos consumes our kingdom.

"You wanted to make things right again with Berin," I whisper to him, hoping he can see the light. "He's Berin's son. A Parias. You made a promise to him that you'd watch over his family. Spare him."

"That was years ago," he mumbles.

"Please," I beg once more, tears stinging my eyes. "Let me at least see him before you decide his punishment. Elena told me he's bleeding. I need to... I just need to know he's okay."

My father's expression continues to harden. "Is it true? Were you and him... connected in any way?"

"Let me go tend to him," only now, the request comes out in a desperate sob. "Even just for a moment."

Once again, I try to break past the barricade of men before me, but they hold me back. I raise my elbow and knock Lorcan harshly in the chest, but he's the one that embraces his arms around me, constraining me. His words come out in the briefest of whispers, an order I find myself obeying.

"Stop," he says, his words hardly making a sound. "He's taken care of."

Leighton folds his arms as another figure emerges from the darkness of the dungeons below: Gareth. Just the sight of those mischievous blue eyes and charcoal black hair sends pangs of anger through me. I should've brought my bow and arrow, because I'm not sure if I can trust Gareth around Tobin. Sure they used to be best friends, but that's long since frayed into whatever the hell this is now.

"This won't unwind our marriage ceremony," Leighton rouses. "You may be disloyal to the betrothal, princess, but I am willing to go through with the wedding if you promise me your full obedience."

I raise a hand, flashing a lewd middle finger to him before spitting at his feet. My father barks at me to behave, but gods, I almost wish Tobin succeeded in the assassination. It's clear this was Tobin's last chance at freeing me from the betrothal. He put all his coins in one basket without knowing my plans for what's to come.

Now, I don't know what to do. I don't know how to save him.

But I do know I have to go through with this marriage. This is for Lagulon. For my people. The cost of it isn't just my freedom. It's Tobin laying in the dungeons, his life teetering into the pits of hell.

"I'll marry you," I seethe, narrowing my gaze on the heathen.

"Good girl," Leighton crosses his arms behind his back, satisfied with my answer. "Orion, before we commence with the final wedding plans for the day, I want to ensure that our little prisoner is executed. Whether or not you want his blood painted on your grounds or mine, I want this sunrise to be his last."

"We don't have time for an execution," my father grumbles.

"You wouldn't have to worry about a thing. I'd have my men take care of it."

No. The last I need is Tobin to be handed back to Leighton, because this time, Leighton will show no mercy. Those whipping scars that mar his flesh will be the easiest of his trials. If my father decides to do it here in our courts, I'll be forced to watch the man I love have the life drained out of him, to have his blood spill onto Lagulonian soil. Yet, it's almost worse to send Tobin back to Adorid for the execution.

Something in the pit of my stomach winces at the thought of Tobin's demise.

I meet my father's cold eyes, silently begging for him not to sentence Tobin to death, but the words that leave his lips bring my biggest fear to life.

"Set an execution date for after the wedding," my father announces. When he gazes at Leighton, I know I've lost the battle to save Tobin. "Do as you please with him, but I want him kept alive until then. Just remember he is my prisoner in my dungeon."

I thrash within Lorcan's arms, only now, Gareth assists with taming my wild reprecussions. Within my screams for them to let me see Tobin, I hear my father order Lorcan to escort me back up to my bedroom, but I refuse.

Tobin is supposed to be safe, far away from the castle.

And yet...

He's dying down in those criminal grounds.

As Lorcan escorts me down the hallway, Gareth keeps himself close. Our pace slows as the three of us come to an empty corridor. I meet Gareth's blue eyes, wanting to pound my fist right into his pretty face so he can feel the misery he's brought me.

"Is there a message you want me to give him?" Gareth asks in nothing more than a whisper.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm not sure Tobin wants to hear that right now," he mumbles, "but I'll take it. If there's something you want him to know, I can deliver the message."

I glance over to Lorcan. I need to know his opinion on Gareth and if I can trust him, because I'm surely walking on sharp rocks around him. He's done so much wrong that when he attempts to be an ally, it falls flat.

"Is he okay?" I finally ask. Gareth would know. He came up from the stairwell to the dungeon, probably from Tobin's cell.

"He's alive. I got him bandaged up from the knife wound in his thigh. It's cleaned for now, but it won't be long until infection settles in."

Lorcan grunts. "It's from a wound you gave him."

"I could've killed him like Leighton would've liked me to, so take this as a win, will you?" Gareth meets my gaze once more. "So? What would you like me to say to him?"

There's so much I long to explain to Tobin. I want to spill my heart out to him, tell him how he controls the orbit of my moon and stars. I want him to know that he brought life into the night with nothing more than his presence. When all seemed hopeless, we fell in love until we fell entwined. It felt like we were unbreakable like iron, and yet we were so fragile like glass.

Tobin Parias is everything and more. He's an immaculate creation sent from the gods, yet tainted with horrors from his past. Scars mark him in the most beautiful of constellations, scars he hides out of shame for what had happened. Yet, those scars were a map to the richness of his soul beneath.

I lean into Gareth's ear, whispering a sweet message meant for Tobin and only Tobin, trusting that the Adoridian guard will deliver it when my thief needs those words most.

Gareth's lips curve into a bashful smile. "Is that all you want me to tell him?"

I nod my head. Tobin needs those words—that delicate reminder when all seems lost.

With one final promise that the message will reach my thief, Gareth spins around to return back to serving his horrendous king.

Lorcan continues to guide me down the hallway. "What did you tell him?"

Just five simple words.

Five words that I pray will give him hope.

── •✧• ──

I'm so excited about the way this story is unraveling for you all. It feels like I've been on such a long journey just to get to this point in the story. These final chapters are so jammed packed with suspense and drama that I literally can't stop squealing when I'm writing it.

Please enjoy this very quick update for OAN [why so quick? because I'm obsessed with Tobigen. duh.] Remember to vote, comment, and share, as I greatly appreciate hearing your feedback and encouragement for the story!