[ this is long. i couldn't find a good place to split it into two chapters, so enjoy. and can anyone tell how i feel about tatiana based of context clues lmao? ]

☾

WHAT PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A GUARDIAN WOULD EVER AGREE TO BE YOUR CHAMPION?

[ season 1 — episode 8 ]

Mischa was cold as she stood on the roof of the church with Rose, Mason, Christian, and Meredith. She stayed tucked into Rose's side, who'd wrapped an arm around her the moment she shivered. Now, they were getting all the information out in the open, including the fact that Christian's parents may have attacked St. Jude's for more than just him. That they lured him away from the Academy that night for more than just him — for Lissa.

"No, it can't be about Lissa," Christian denied. Even now with his parents being Strigoi, he didn't want to admit that they were fully gone from his life, which none of them could blame him for. "How would my parents even know about us? No one else does."

"What about Jesse Zeklos?" Meredith asked, trying to come up with a suspect. "He can come and go through the walls as he pleases. He easily could have smuggled those gifts in."

Mason perked up as well, looking between Meredith and Mischa. "Convoy in Lisbon. Didn't you say he made you all leave early? He could have been luring the girls there," he noted.

"Is Jesse smart enough for that?" Mischa asked doubtfully.

"No," Rose said flatly. "But his dad could have put him up to it. Whoever's behind this is trying to prevent the Dragomir bloodline from having a vote on the Council."

"Okay, so we think one of the Elementalist bloodlines is responsible," Christian said.

"That's still at least six families," Mischa noted, thinking of not only the Zeklos line, but ones like the Contas and Vogels as well. And there were hundreds of Royals aside from the ones that sat on the Council.

"Yes. Not to mention Dane Zeklos was angling for the crown before the queen even named Andre as heir," Meredith noted. Then her eyes fell on Mischa and a horrible thought crossed her mind — one she didn't want to say in front of the girl but knew she had to. "What if — what if the car accident that killed your family... wasn't an accident at all?"

Mischa's expression flickered between one of fear and one of denial. "N - no," she said, shaking her head. "No, no, it was an accident," she insisted. "No. No, we'd know if it was. No—"

"Mish," Rose said as gently as she could. "None of us can remember," she reminded her. "But you can see why it's a plausible lead to follow."

"And so what if it was a — wasn't an accident?" Mischa asked, feeling her throat grow tighter at the thought.

"Then someone wants you and Lissa dead too," Rose told her, clenching her jaw. "And we might want to be wise and ask for help."

"But we have no idea how deep this goes and who's involved," Mason said, shaking his head. "Who could we even trust?"

Rose took in a deep breath and cringed, already getting ready for it. "There is one Guardian..."

As she trailed off, Mischa got out from under her arms while quickly shaking her head in refusal. "No way. We are not going to him."

"He's your Guardian, Mischa," she said, sighing heavily. "He will do everything he can to protect you—"

"I can protect myself!" Mischa exclaimed, getting angry. "I don't need him."

"Mish," Meredith said cautiously, "while choosing to ignore that tension surrounding You-Know-Who, we're not saying you can't protect yourself. Taking out a Strigoi all on your own proves that—"

"Two Strigoi," Rose muttered, knowing she could trust the Novices and Christian with the information. They all looked at Mischa with wide eyes, who gave no explanation. "Long story that we're not gonna tell you."

"Okay," Meredith said, continuing after processing Rose's words. "Barring all that, you're still not a Dhampir, Mischa. You're not a Guardian—"

"Neither are any of you," she snapped, crossing her arms.

"Exactly," Mason said, giving her a look. "If there's one person I wanted in on this, it'd be someone like Belikov."

Mischa let out a childish, hurt huff and looked down at her shoes. "He won't do anything that conspires against anyone on the Council. He'll just call it treason."

"Not for you," Christian said softly. "He'll risk everything for you."

"Not everything," she said sadly.

The others didn't have to be rocket scientists to pick up on her soured emotions. And now they were beginning to understand why Mischa was suddenly so anti-Dimitri. They didn't know what happened, but something occurred between the two, and it hadn't ended with sunshine and rainbows.

"Mischa, I know what he's done," Rose said, speaking slowly, knowing it'd be difficult to convince her. "And you know that I am just as angry at him as you are — I haven't forgotten. But this is bigger than us. Despite your doubts and feelings, I know that Dimitri will help us. And if you're at my side when I tell him it's your life at risk, he'll fold instantly. No matter what happened, his need to protect you is still there."

Mischa's insides were turning horribly at what they were asking of her. After Dimitri threw her to the side, the last thing she wanted was to crawl back to him and beg for his help and protection. Not only was it almost humiliating, but it was painful.

It hadn't even been a full week. She hadn't been within fifteen feet of him, let alone face to face. So, how was she supposed to look in the eyes of someone that didn't even want her enough to break the dumbest rule in all of the Dominion and then ask him to break even more?

☾

Mischa was dragging her feet as misery swirled inside of her. Dimitri was running his usual laps around the campus as countless Dhampir and Moroi students went about their days. Rose was going to meet him on his run and then guide him toward her. Once they stopped, they were going to spring the whole conspiracy theory on him.

Rose caught up to Dimitri fairly easily and just before the meeting point with Mischa. He didn't say anything — though he'd noticed how Rose had been avoiding him since returning from the human world. He figured she knew a little something about how things ended between him and Mischa and chose sides, rightfully so. But clearly, she didn't hate him so much that she wouldn't seek him out.

"I don't want to be talking to you," Rose started out, not even bothering to sugarcoat it. "But I trust you as more than just a mentor — as a friend. And there's more going on around here than you think, including possible treason."

But Dimitri didn't say anything. After the nightmare visit to the human world, he wasn't going to humor any more of her stupid ideas. He couldn't afford to in his current mental state. He tried to keep running and ignore Rose, much to her annoyance.

"Come on," Rose called, stopping as Dimitri got ahead by a few feet. "You can't ignore us, Comrade."

The 'us' was what got him to stop. It was the soft, 'Dimitri,' that left Mischa's lips which got him to turn around. Mischa was there at Rose's side, facing him but keeping her eyes glued to anything but his face. All the while, he couldn't tear his own eyes off her, taking in her features that he missed so much.

Just seeing her again had him questioning the world all over again, and that was the last thing he needed.

Knowing she had his attention, Mischa continued to talk, keeping her eyes trained on one of the stings of the hoodie he was wearing. "I know that you don't want to talk to me anymore—"

"It's not what I want. It's what has to be," Dimitri said stiffly. "I've put you at risk. I've all but put your sister at risk all because—"

"I recall," she interrupted swiftly. "No need to go over again. I was there. And I made my own choices, same as you."

"I'm not like you, Princess—"

"Don't call me that," Mischa snapped, flinching back as she heard the name leave his lips.

Dimitri hesitated, his chest aching horribly as he saw the hurt on her face. "Mischa," he said slowly, her name almost getting caught in his throat. "I'm not like you, or even Rose — raised by a powerful Moroi family who pretended being Dhampir didn't matter. Maybe if I'd had that, I'd believe that I could do anything too, but I don't. All I have is this life and the faith that's helped me endure it. I can't lose that, Mischa. It's not that I don't want to help you. It's that I can't."

"Well, that's fine," Mischa said, biting the inside of her cheek. "I wasn't the one that wanted your help, anyway."

Mischa turned to leave, but Rose grabbed her arm to keep her in place while still glaring at Dimitri. "This faith that you're holding on to with a death grip is supporting an unfair system that is never going to change. Maybe you should be the one who does," she told him. "And even still, that faith is no excuse for what you did to M—"

Rose was interrupted suddenly by Tatiana speaking up from behind them. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?" The girls turned to see Tatiana standing there in an oversized fur coat, looking quite out of place away from the town and amongst the people of the Academy.

"What are you doing here?" Mischa asked, raising an eyebrow. The words, 'No one wants you here,' were on the tip of her tongue as well, but she bit it to keep herself in check.

"Well, I came to see the Guardian I'm putting all my faith in," she said, tilting her head a bit. "The second trial, the Trial by Proxy, is tonight, as I'm sure you've not forgotten."

Now, Mischa really didn't hold back. "What pathetic excuse for a Guardian would ever agree to be your champion?"

Tatiana raised an almost challenging eyebrow. Then slowly, her eyes slid from Mischa to the side, looking at the person just behind her. "One would think you'd speak higher of your own Guardian Belikov, Lady Dragomir. Perhaps you'd like to take that back."

Mischa felt like she couldn't breathe as a type of rage she'd never felt washed over her. This wasn't about Dimitri using her body and then tossing her away like damaged goods. It wasn't jealousy.

It was fighting for the woman that took away the Dragomir vote and who wanted to put sixteen-year-old Dhampir out in the field.

It was Mikhail teaching her to ride a bike. It was Mikhail humming Old Moroi operas while going on walks. It was Mikhail asking for advice on cologne that Sonya might like.

It was Mikhail being killed at the hands of a Strigoi that Tatiana Vogel released on him. It was Tatiana running her mouth at the caucus, declaring the test a success and saying Mikhail died because he just wasn't good enough.

As Mischa's fist shook, so did the ground. The stupid smirk that always seemed to be on Tatiana's face slipped for a moment as she glance down. Rose quickly grabbed one of Mischa's wrists, and the contact calmed her down a bit — not fully, but enough for the magic to stop.

"No, Vogel," Mischa said, practically spitting her name and refusing to use her title. "I don't take it back. You do not care about Dhampir lives — you actively took part in killing seven of them within the last two weeks and declared it a success. You want children in the battlefields so that you don't have to break a nail and fight for yourself. And no amount of twisting your words or hiding your true agenda can change that fact. We all know it."

"And given that you are a walking, talking reminder of who I lost because of you, I can guarantee that I will never let the people of this Dominion — the Dominion that was ready to vote for Victor instead of you before you no doubt did something to have these trials called — forget what you're really like."

Tatiana's stony expression remained unchanged as she met Mischa's furious gaze. "No public figure can ever truly be liked by all—"

"You're barely a public figure," she said, scoffing. "Perhaps you're a royal, but you came out of nowhere, Tatiana. You fucked my brother one time, after which even he swiftly forgot your name and died, and now you're desperately clawing for the crown of a Dominion that will crumble if you win this election. And should you lose, I'll ensure everyone forgets your name the same way."

That was the dig that finally cracked Tatiana's mask, and for a moment, Mischa could see the truly ugly hatred she was feeling mirrored in the other woman's eyes.

Mischa didn't bother with any kind of goodbye. She didn't bother to look at Dimitri — if she couldn't stomach it before, she sure as hell couldn't look at him after choosing Tatiana Vogel's side. Because there was a lot that Guardians didn't have a say in, but for something like this, you couldn't force a Guardian to be your champion without the Elements punishing you in some way.

It only took a few seconds for Rose to catch up with her. She hadn't uttered a word to Tatiana or Dimitri either, though couldn't hide the shit-eating grin on her face. She also hadn't bothered to look at Dimitri — she too was just as disappointed by his actions. Even if he wasn't fully aware of how much of a bitch Tatiana was, he still knew that Dhampir weren't a priority for her. It was a flat-out betrayal to his kind.

"Where are we going?" Rose asked, managing to keep up easily as Mischa continued to storm away from Academy grounds and closer to the city.

"I need to find Victor. I need to know who his champion is," she said, trying to calm down. "There's not exactly a plethora of people that can beat Dimitri in a fight."

"No, there aren't a lot, and I'm guessing my mum isn't just gonna appear out of thin air," Rose muttered. Then she raised an eyebrow, an idea coming to her. "But maybe... I'm just as good an option."

Mischa slowed for a moment but didn't stop. "But I thought it could only be Guardians?" There hadn't been Elemental trials for the throne in hundreds of years, but things like this were carried out for other political settlements.

"No, it has to be a Dhampir," she corrected. "But no Novice has really been good enough to risk putting in the ring. I'm the first one since my mother to kill a Strigoi, though. Do you think Victor will swing for it?"

"He has to."

Victor was in a private feeding room with Mia and Richard, waiting until it was time for the second trial. Two humans were laying out, fairly untouched for the most part as the three family members spoke about Sonya, who apparently, only Victor had heard from in the last few days. Their time together was interrupted when Mischa and Rose ran in without bothering to knock.

"Victor, who's your champion?" Rose asked, looking past the Guardian that stopped the girls from coming closer.

Mia rolled her eyes at their rudeness. "Really, Rose? Mischa?"

"For the second trial, who?" Rose asked, ignoring her.

"James has never lost in hand-to-hand combat," Victor said, nodding to the Guardian in front of them.

Mischa looked up at the blonde man with a doubtful expression. "Is that true?" she asked.

"I have a record of fifty-and-oh," James told her, seeming proud.

Rose moved suddenly, grabbing James and flipping him completely over her body in just a second. He could only let out a low groan, not expecting her to have so much power in such a small and young body.

"He won't beat Dimitri, but I can," Rose told Victor. "I know how he thinks, how he moves. I understand him better than anyone. I will win this, so pick me."

Victor looked at her, clearly taking it into consideration. He'd known Rose all his life, and though she was young, she was good. People said Dimitri Belikov was a Guardian they'd form legends about, but something inside of him knew Rose was worth a few legends of her own.

☾

A boxing ring was an odd thing to see in the middle of an ancient castle, but it was there, nonetheless. The event hall was complete with bright lights, blaring music, and a fully staffed bar to serve the Moroi waiting for the second trial to start. To keep those in attendance amused, two clowns were performing an act in the ring. As each minute passed, more and more people arrived to view the fight — for once Dhampir were actually allowed to sit in the audience, though non-Royals weren't permitted inside.

Clarence was working overtime as he announced every Moroi that entered the room. Then they'd either head to the upper level which had the bar and many tables to sit at or they went right down to the floor so that they could be close to the ring. The Queen was sitting on a throne on a raised platform for all to see. Victor was sitting at her right hand, and Tatiana on her left, not so subtly declaring her preference for him as a candidate.

Mischa was with Rose and Mason, standing at the side, away from the view of the crowd for the most part. Lissa hadn't arrived yet, meaning she had no clue Rose was even fighting. Then again, Rose had no clue that Lissa was betrothed to Christian either, so it seemed like a fair tradeoff.

As Mason securely wrapped Rose's hands for protection, he looked out at the crowd full of Council members and other Royal Moroi family members. "There you have it, a crowd of suspects. Dane Zeklos, Marie Conta, Peter Tarus," he listed off.

"Not to mention any other Royal that could be working under the radar," Mischa added with a sigh.

"I wish I could remember the accident. Maybe I saw something," Rose said, glancing at Mischa. Though it was doubtful given that she died, evidently.

"Well, you know who you could ask," Mason said, giving her a pointed look.

Rose set her jaw, still not wanting to think about Lissa. "No," she said stubbornly. "Mish can go to her after all this."

"When are you gonna tell me what she did that hurt you so much?" he asked her.

But she didn't answer. Rose took in a deep breath and closed herself off, still hurt by what Lissa had done. "I have a fight to prepare for," she muttered before walking off.

Mason sighed heavily, and Mischa pat his shoulder comfortingly. "Just be glad you're not the one she's mad at."

"I'm glad you're not mad at me either," he said, eyeing her. "Heard you raged pretty hard after finding out Belikov was Tatiana's champion." Mischa's face hardened — she still hadn't come to terms with the fact she was about to see Dimitri in the ring, fighting for everything she hated. Mason noticed and tried to do some digging. "Though I get the feeling there was some tension before all that."

"Mason, I've never met someone so nosy," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Now, Mer should be here soon with Eddie. Let's go find some good seats."

Elsewhere in the event hall, Dimitri was getting ready for his fight. He was doing his best to not think about it. About anything, really. He didn't want to think of how betrayed Mischa looked when she realized he was fighting for Tatiana. He didn't want to think about the annoying pep talk that Tatiana gave him about winning for her was a win for the church before going off to take her seat by the Queen.

He was near the side entrance for Guardians to use, as they weren't permitted to come in the same door as the Moroi. While waiting, he warmed up with stretches. He knew it wouldn't be a particularly long fight, as Victor's Guardian James was far too cocky for his own good. It'd only take a minute for Dimitri to beat him in the ring, as he knew the man's weaknesses.

Many Guardians and excited Novices passed him to get into the event hall — no matter what political side they were on, they all enjoyed watching a trial by combat like this. Every now and then, one of his coworkers or acquaintances would give him a nod, though there was no need for wishes of good luck.

"It's gonna be quite the show, Belikov," a fellow Guardian named Harbin said as he came over. Another Guardian was at his side, whose name was Prudence. They both taught classes to the Novices at the lower campus for first and second years. Harbin was several years older than Dimitri, but they were both from the same Russian province.

"Not particularly," Dimitri said, rolling his shoulders. "James has poor footwork. It'll be easy."

Harbin and Prudence shared a look, both realizing he hadn't heard about Rose Hathaway being tapped for Victor's champion at the last minute. "Right," Prudence said with a thick Australian accent, biting the inside of her cheek. Then, after thinking back on how chaotic it had been to train a young Rose, she decided it'd be best — and more entertaining — to let Dimitri find out he'd be fighting Janine Hathaway's daughter once he was in the ring.

"Yeah, right," Harbin said, nodding along with Prudence. Then he clapped Dimitri on the shoulder. "Figure you need an easy win with all that Dragomir business. Don't know how you managed to fuck up the sweetest Guardian gig around."

Dimitri tensed, clearly having no idea what Harbin was talking about. Because it was impossible for them to know what transpired between him and Mischa. "What Dragomir business?"

"Everyone's talking about it," Prudence said, tilting her head. "Mischa Dragomir is one of the best charges a Guardian could hope for. Word on the street is that she's going to formally request Hathaway after she graduates. No idea what happened with the sister — they were thick as thieves, last I heard."

"I figure it's to do with Tanner's death," Harbin said with a sad expression. "Most Moroi don't mourn us like she's mourning him. Doesn't know what she wants in a Guardian anymore, but Mischa will settle eventually. Always had a good head on her shoulders."

"Yeah, when she wasn't trying to sneak into practice," Prudence joked, trying to lighten the mood. Then she glanced back at Dimitri, who looked as stiff as a board with his emotions masked. "Right, well, we'll see you out there, mate."

As the Guardians left his side, Dimitri was left to stare at the wall and process what they'd said. Mischa was going to request a different Guardian. She was going to ask for Rose, and if they didn't give her Rose, they'd give her someone else. Dimitri would be moved away without any say because he went where they told him to.

It was a wretched situation.

The very issue, to begin with, was that it was forbidden for a Guardian and their Moroi to be together. So, if Dimitri was no longer Mischa's Guardian, there would be no barriers keeping them apart.

But the world would be keeping them apart still. At the very least, Dimitri knew he'd get to see Mischa every day — he'd get to be around her and protect her. But when he was reassigned to Vlad knows who and Vlad knows where, Dimitri and Mischa would never see each other. Leave time was scarce to come by, and depending on who won the trials, it would be practically nonexistent. Mischa would likely stay here at Court while he was shipped off.

Dimitri wasn't sure what was worse — having Mischa around, unable to have her to himself, or being separated by oceans for years at a time, never able to see each other at all.

Jealousy filled him — not the kind that came to the surface whenever he saw Adrian Ivashkov hanging off of Mischa. No, he was jealous of Rose. Mischa was his Moroi. His. Even if he couldn't have her, couldn't love her, she was still his to protect. He was her Dhampir, not Rose. The thought of Mischa going to her, wanting her over him as a Guardian felt like a punch to the chest.

As Dimitri did his best to curb that jealousy, the one that had him so wound up was waiting in the audience, clueless to the fact that he now knew she no longer wanted him as a Guardian. Mischa, as she promised Rose, was right at the edge of the boxing ring. She was surrounded by mostly Dhampir and a few of the lesser Royals of society, all of whom didn't mind getting so close to a violent fight.

Mischa was feeling rather impatient but tried to smile and clap for the clowns that were running around and getting people to laugh. She just wasn't in a particularly happy mood, not with Tatiana sitting on the other side of the room with a smug smile on her face, thinking she had this second trial in the bag. But Rose wasn't going to go easy on Dimitri, especially when this fight was a combination of her hatred of the Dominion, anger at Dimitri's treatment of Mischa, and a need to avenge Mikhail.

Any contemplation over the outcome was quickly put on hold as Clarence made yet another arrival announcement.

"Lady Vasilissa Dragomir and her betrothed, Lord Christian Ozera."

As gasps sounded throughout the room and all chatter ceased, Mischa bit back a smile, searching out her sister. Lissa and Christian entered with their arms interlocked. They kept their heads held high but also avoided meeting anyone's eye. The news shocked everyone, even the Queen and Victor, who had no idea that this was happening.

It was news to Rose, as well, who was watching from around the corner with wide eyes. Mischa watched her sympathetically, knowing it likely hurt that Lissa didn't tell her this even while they were fighting. Even Mischa was a little surprised that Lissa chose this event to announce that she and Christian were engaged — though the fight might overshadow the news, which she knew her sister would like. Lissa didn't want a big spectacle made out of this even though it was impossible for this to fly under the radar.

One of the last Dragomirs marrying a disgraced Ozera was a big fucking deal.

When people began talking again, most of the conversation was about Lissa and Christian. The couple sat at their table and got drinks from a waiter, trying to ignore the stares they frequently got. At least they'd shown up at the last minute, meaning people didn't have much time to speculate about them and the sudden arrangement.

Finally, the music was cut off and the clowns finished for the night as the Queen got up from her throne to begin the trial. Everyone grew quiet and looked to their ruler. "Welcome to the Trial by Proxy. Our candidates have each selected two warriors to do battle on their behalf. By grace of the Elements, let us hope they have chosen wisely. Lady Vogel has selected Guardian Dimitri Belikov."

Mischa swallowed thickly and moved her eyes to the ring that Dimitri climbed into from the other end. He was wearing a dark blue ceremonial robe with the hood pulled up, as well as a thick headband with Tatiana's name in Old Moroi written on it. She could see his bare chest through the parted fabric and had to tear her eyes away, refusing to look at him like that. He kept his head down and his back turned to Mischa, though not necessarily on purpose. He didn't exactly expect her to be in the front row for his fight.

After the cheering died out a bit, the Queen continued. "And Lord Dashkov has selected Novice Rose Hathaway."

Dimitri turned with wide eyes and saw Rose standing across from him, wearing a red cloak and headband to fight for Victor. She looked impossibly pissed off at him. And then from the audience, loud and clear, he heard—

"Go, Rose!" Mischa shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth to cheer. Of course, he knew after the scene she made when she learned he'd be fighting for Tatiana that she wouldn't be cheering for her, but it hurt to hear her actively rooting for the same person that she replaced him with.

As the two Dhampir removed the cloaks and headbands, the Queen grabbed a padded mallet and moved to an ancient-looking gong. "Let the Trial by Proxy begin!" she said while banging the gong.

Rose and Dimitri stared each other down while standing face to face, getting in a few words before the first move was made. "What are you doing here?" Dimitri asked, keeping his voice low.

Rose glanced at Tatiana with hatred before looking down at Mischa, thinking of how she held her while she cried over losing Dimitri. Anger easily built up inside of her as she did. Dimitri caught the look they shared, noting how Mischa refused to look his way and only looked at Rose.

"I'm here to beat some sense into you," Rose finally replied.

Then she shoved him back harshly, beginning the fight. Each punch and kick she aimed, he easily dodged. But Dimitri only held up his fists to block and deflect her hits, not wanting to fight back. This wasn't like training — this was a combat trial, and he didn't want Mischa to see him let out his true anger on Rose. If he were to fight fair, it'd be far bloodier and more drawn out than a simple fight with James would've been.

Dimitri continued to block as many of Rose's hits as he could while also taking a few of them to his face and body. He managed to grab her face and pushed her back a little bit, keeping her restrained.

"Tatiana Vogel is everything I hate about this place!" she snapped.

"I do what I'm told."

"Right, your fսcking duty," she muttered angrily.

With a grunt, Rose freed herself and kicked him in the stomach, sending him several feet back. The crowd cheered as Tatiana sat on the edge of her feet, feeling a bit nervous. Dimitri let out a frustrated huff and charged at Rose, swinging at her. But she dropped low and went for his legs. Once back at her full height, Rose got in several punches before he grabbed her arms and spun her around, trapping her in a headlock.

"Why are you doing this?" Dimitri asked her. No one could hear their conversation over all the noise the audience was making.

"Because of what you did to her!" Rose seethed, eyes falling on Mischa below. "She gave you everything only for you to change your mind two days later."

Dimitri looked as well, seeing the concern for Rose in Mischa's deep brown eyes — he didn't know it, but she was concerned for him too, even if he didn't deserve it. His grip on Rose loosened, remembering how he never wanted Mischa to see him as anything worse than a protector. "Rose—"

She cut him off by getting out of his grapple and turning to punch him in the jaw. "You want me to stop? Win. Show her exactly how important your duty is to you." As Rose continued to assault Dimitri, he only continued to evade her attacks without actually fighting back. At least not fully. Perhaps those watching couldn't tell he was pulling his punches, but Rose had been training with him and knew how strong he really was. And she hated that he wasn't fighting back. "You're taking it easy on me."

Dimitri nearly shrugged, taking a few steps back. "Or maybe you're just that good," he told her.

"Bullshit!" she shouted, going after him. "What kind of a champion refuses to fight?"

For half a second, Dimitri lost his bit of control as he angrily grabbed Rose's face, holding it painfully tight. But he reigned it in before he could break her jaw. "I don't want to do this, Rose. Not in front of her. You know that."

"Don't worry. She couldn't think any less of you," she snarled, hitting his wrist to break his hold on her. Then she reared back and punched with all her strength, sending him across the ring where the ropes caught him.

Mischa, who'd stayed impossibly silent during the agonizing fight, couldn't help but let out a gasp, seeing how Dimitri hit the ground. He spit blood from his mouth before glancing up at Rose, ignoring the pounding in his head.

"Your honor as a champion is on the line here, Comrade. Come on!" Rose taunted, desperate for him to fight back. "God, no wonder she chose me as her new Guardian!"

That was it for him. As Rose grabbed his shoulder to try and heave him up and hit him again, Dimitri moved quickly. He let out a roar of a yell while turning quickly, delivering a strong uppercut to Rose's head. It sent the Novice flying through the air and crashing into the ropes around the ring.

The pounding in Dimitri's head got even louder. He couldn't hear the shouts or winces, or how Tatiana was cheering him on finally. He didn't see Rose, either, who was struggling to regain her senses after a hit like that. He only saw Mischa in the crowd, who looked at Rose with a concerned expression on her face that made his stomach twist. He felt like he was being torn in two directions in that boxing ring — part of him wanted to fight Rose with all his might to prove that he was a worthy Guardian for Mischa, and the other part wanted to throw the fight, not wanting to see that look on Mischa's face anymore.

The latter won out, and he chose love over duty. He chose Mischa over duty.

He saw it coming as Rose geared up for her next attack. He could've rolled out of the way or even stopped her completely, but he didn't. Rose grabbed the ropes of the ring to steady herself before pushing off the ground. She launched into the air, spinning sideways across the length of the ring. When her foot met his face, Dimitri dropped hard, blood flying from his mouth.

Mischa, who flinched and shut her eyes because she was unable to stomach the sight, was so close to them that Dimitri's blood splattered across her face. She took in a shaky breath and touched her index finger to her bottom lip, wiping some of it away and looking at the red staining her skin.

Slowly, her eyes trailed up to Dimitri, who was collapsed on the mat. He didn't try to get up and instead pressed his forehead to the floor, surrounded by his blood as he caught his breath. The sight made her stomach turn even more than seeing Rose after getting hit so hard. Seeing him like that made a lot of anger fade away.

"That's what I thought," Rose muttered, looking down at Dimitri in disgust.

The timer had been running since the moment Dimitri went down, and when several seconds passed without him managing to get on his feet, a bell rang, signaling the end. "The winner is Victor Dashkov. Thank you, champions!" the Queen announced, causing the audience that supported Victor to break out into loud cheers for both him and Rose.

Mischa let out a relieved sigh, knowing it was over as she stepped right up to the edge of the ring, planning to help Rose down. But Rose didn't move to leave the ring. She walked up to Dimitri.

"Fight back," Mischa could hear Rose say. Dimitri weakly shook his head, keeping his eyes clenched shut as he tried to keep his anger in check. Then he sat up on his knees and looked up at Rose. "Fight back!"

When Rose punched Dimitri while he was already down, all the cheering stopped as they let out various shocked sounds of exclamation.

"Rose, stop," Mischa said, grabbing onto the ropes and looking up at them. Rose certainly heard her given that the crowd was silent. "He's had enough."

"No, fight!" Rose shouted, punching him yet again. Dimitri shut his eyes so that he wouldn't have to look at her or Mischa or anyone else. "You're a coward, Dimitri. Fight back!"

"It's over, Rose," Mischa said, climbing into the ring. She grabbed Rose's shoulder to try and pull her back. "Stop."

But Rose simply shrugged her off and kicked Dimitri, sending him back onto the mat face down. "If you can't fight me, you sure as hell can't protect her!"

At that accusation, Dimitri — who never saw Mischa climb into the ring — let out an angry roar and got back on his feet, lunging directly for Rose. The Novice turned out of the way, meaning that when Dimitri's fist soared through the air, it didn't just miss his intended target.

Mischa didn't even realize it at first as Dimitri's fist met her cheek. It was only after the searing pain in her jaw outweighed the pounding in her head that she realized she wasn't even standing, instead lying on her back, propped up by her forearms on the floor of the boxing ring.

People acted quickly, rushing to the Royal Moroi's aid. Soon, her peripheral vision was filled with Rose, Mason, Meredith, and her sister, who took a little longer to reach her. But Mischa was only looking up and straight ahead at Dimitri who was slowly backing away.

Dimitri looked at his shaking hands rather than at her, a thousand horrified thoughts running through his mind. And Mischa knew what he was thinking — she hated that she knew him so well that she knew what he was thinking. The one thing he wanted — needed — most was to never be like his father.

Mischa knew it was an accident. Everyone knew it was an accident, and it was partly her fault for climbing into the ring once the fight was over. But Dimitri would never see it that way given how his father treated his mother.

"Dimitri," Mischa managed to mumble, trying to stand. She could feel Rose and Mason trying to keep her down, knowing she didn't need to get up until they knew she was okay.

He heard her soft call and tore his gaze away from his fist to look at her. But Dimitri didn't see her softened expression or the lack of fear on her face. His haunted eyes saw the red color blooming on her skin that would soon turn into a bruise no matter how much ice was applied. He saw blood on her face — a mixture of his from before and hers, dripping from the split lip he'd given her.

Funny how being covered in each other's blood had been so romantic just a few hours ago when it was Lissa and Christian in a church.

"Dimitri," Mischa tried again, ignoring the ache in her skull. "It's fi—"

He took off with that impressive Dhampir speed, unable to stomach the sight of what he'd done. No one got in Dimitri's way, and he didn't slow down as Mischa called out for him. And it wasn't as if she could follow as she was hauled away, not really able to push anyone off given that her world was still spinning a little from the painful hit.

But Mischa found Dimitri running away from her yet again was far more painful.

☾

Rose and Lissa were in the middle of reuniting and discovering something absolutely earth-shattering, but Mischa wouldn't know that. After Dimitri accidentally hit her, she'd been taken to an infirmary near the castle, where a Moroi doctor checked over her injuries.

She did, in fact, have a small concussion, but it'd be gone in a matter of days given how fast Moroi healed. It also meant the bruise formed faster though. Her jaw was sporting a deep bruise that hurt to touch, and her bottom lip was split — the doctor figured her teeth tore into it while receiving the blow. But other than that, she was fairly unharmed and free to go so long as she continued to hold the ice pack he gave her to the left side of her face.

During the check-up, Mischa was left to watch the final trial, the Trial by Reverie, on a TV. Everyone was anxious for a ruler to be chosen, but they also loved a scandal. And a Royal Moroi getting punched by a Guardian on accident was quite a scandal, meaning that the news outlets would be circulating not only the outcome of the trials but what happened after the second one as well.

Even before the last trial began, the news shamelessly included a clip of Dimitri hitting Mischa, even daring to follow it up with a slowed-down version of it. Mischa made herself watch it, seeing how his fist meant for Rose met her face instead. Mischa dropped, and remorse and fear instantly covered Dimitri's face, who realized his mistake.

Something Mischa hadn't seen when it happened was how Dimitri moved toward her instantly to check on her, but Rose shoved him back harshly and went to her side instead. Then when Mischa raised her face and he saw the already red mark, the real horror sat in as he thought over what he'd done with his own hands that he stared at in disgust.

But finally, they switched to live coverage of the Trial by Reverie — though Mischa bitterly noticed the small square in the corner that displayed the video of Eddie picking her up and rushing her out of the ring and to the doctor. A few cameramen and reporters parted from the arena and followed them, trying to ask Mischa questions. Thankfully, the doctor slammed a door in their faces.

Mischa stayed in front of the TV in the waiting area until Victor and Tatiana were put under with St. Vladimir's blood. She knew she wanted to go back to the event hall and be there for Victor no matter the verdict, so she soon left. Meredith and Eddie were both waiting for her as soon as she stepped out of the clinic — they'd been doing a fantastic job of scaring off annoying reporters who wanted to get a comment from Mischa about what happened.

"Damn, good thing you're rich and can afford makeup," Eddie said, eying the left side of Mischa's face. It was mostly covered with the ice pack she was holding, but he could still see the discoloration underneath.

Meredith elbowed him at the insensitive comment. "Don't be a dick."

"It's fine," Mischa said, letting out a tired sigh. "I shouldn't have climbed in the ring until I knew he was going to stay down. Rose was pissing him off."

"Yeah, with some really choice words that have me raising a very nosy eyebrow," Eddie said, not ashamed at all about how he wanted to know everything. "Seems Belikov isn't happy about the new arrangement between you and Rose that everyone is talking about."

"I mean, I wouldn't know," she mumbled. "I didn't exactly break the news to him."

"Ooh, tough break," he said. "Doesn't explain why he was so touchy, though."

"Are you thick?" Meredith asked him, raising an eyebrow. Granted, he wasn't around quite as much as she had been, but how had he not picked up on the feelings between Dimitri and Mischa? It was quite evident something happened in St. Ignatius that drove a wedge between them, just like a wedge was driven between Lissa and Rose.

"What'd I say?" he asked innocently. "Dimitri was being weird and wouldn't fight until Rose brought up Mischa. Seems like he's jealous or something—"

"Shut up," she said, rolling her eyes. Then Meredith looked back at a sulking Mischa. "Are you sure you want back in the event hall? It'll be loud once the winner is announced. Might make your head worse."

"I might wait outside," Mischa suggested. Besides, if Victor won, he'd be far too busy celebrating with his family to be bothered with her. And if he lost, the loser had to give a concession speech, which would take up his time as well.

Then the sound of a horn began to play, signifying that one of the candidates had woken up.

"Already?" Eddie asked, looking up. "That didn't take long."

While they continued to walk, they kept their eyes glued to the night sky, knowing the colored smoke would be released to signify the winner — to signify the next ruler of the Dominion. Mischa found herself holding her breath, knowing that countless lives were on the line with one little outcome.

More than a full minute passed before smoke began drifting from the top of a tower — blue smoke.

"Oh my god," Mischa breathed out in relief, realizing that he'd done it. Victor Dashkov was going to be the next King of the Dominion. And Tatiana Vogel could fucking suck it. The cheering throughout the streets was deafening — no doubt making Mischa's head hurt worse, but she was too happy to care. "I absolutely have to be in the event hall for the concession speech. I wanna watch all her hopes and dreams die in her eyes as she has to give Victor his gift."

"Tell us how you really feel about her, why don't ya?" Meredith said, raising an eyebrow. But even she was grinning — every Dhampir in the entire Dominion would be celebrating just as hard as any Moroi on Victor's side would be.

"Just come on," Mischa said, grabbing Eddie's wrist with her free hand and nudging Meredith. "We gotta get going. Can't miss this."

The streets of the St. Vladimir province were full of people cheering and waving their flags, celebrating their newest ruler. Those who supported Tatiana quickly made themselves scarce. It was a bit quieter just outside the event hall, as most everyone stayed inside to celebrate. There would only be a few minutes in between Victor's victory being announced and Tatiana having to present a gift and concession speech to him.

The losing candidate took those few minutes to storm out of the castle furiously, rage building in her chest over the loss. She didn't dare look at anyone as she passed — at least until she spotted a battered and bruised Guardian leaning against a lone wall, half-hidden by the shadows.

Tatiana found her feet stopping right in front of Dimitri, who glanced up at her with an ashamed look.

"I should apologize," Dimitri said quietly, every muscle inside of him tensed up. "I should not have begun that fight knowing there was no way I could do what I had to do to win. And because of that... my charge got hurt as well. I suspect I'll be reassigned to another province soon. My value here has been... compromised."

She eyed him calculatingly — only the Saints themselves knew how Tatiana could still try and find ways to manipulate those around her after suffering such a brutal loss. She would certainly continue to try. "You're in love with that girl, aren't you?" she asked. Tatiana didn't use her name. If Mischa wasn't going to give respect to her name, then Tatiana would withhold the same for hers. "And then you hit her."

Dimitri hardly let himself react — not in front of someone like Tatiana, who was clearly fishing for something even if he didn't know what. He only blinked and tightened his jaw even more, grinding his teeth in frustration. She was right though. About both things.

Tatiana dared to keep talking even though she had no business dwelling on the subject. "But you can't be with her without sacrificing the duty you pledged to the Saints as her Guardian, so you've chosen not to be with her at all. Well, according to the Elements then, you'd make a terrific king." Again, he remained silent and stiff, and she, for some reason, took that as an invitation to step closer. "I'm gonna let you into a little secret, Dimitri. In the Reverie, I was hoping to see someone I cherish, who I lost. But I didn't. It's hard wanting something you can't have, isn't it?"

Dimitri wasn't sure what Tatiana wanted from him — though he had an inkling of an idea that left a bad taste in his mouth. A second after the words finished leaving her lips, another sound drew his attention. It was familiar, sweet laughter that always made his chest feel warm when he heard it. His eyes slid away from Tatiana and over her shoulder, spotting Mischa walking toward them and the entrance to the event hall with Meredith and Eddie at her side.

She was laughing at something Eddie said, but almost like she could feel his burning gaze, Mischa looked to the side and found Dimitri almost instantly, her laugh fading out. A moment later, Meredith and Eddie spotted him as well. It was obvious that they tried to steer her away, but Mischa said something and shook them off making her way toward him and Tatiana without them. After a moment, the Novices shrugged and headed to the entrance.

Tatiana had noticed Dimitri wasn't paying her attention anymore, so she knew Mischa was coming as well.

"Ah," Tatiana said, speaking before Mischa even stopped in front of them. "I see you're up and about already—"

"Go away," Mischa said flatly, looking at the woman with clear disinterest.

She scoffed at her blatant disrespect. "We were having a conversation, and you can't speak to me like—"

"Actually, I can because you're not the Queen," Mischa said with a vindictive smirk, leaning in. Of course, her intimidation factor was cut in half by the ice squished to her face. "I need to talk to my Guardian, and you have losing loser things to do."

For a moment, Mischa wondered if Tatiana would retaliate in some way — either with harsh words or fists, she didn't know. But then she let out a long exhale from her flaring nostrils and stood a little straighter. As Tatiana stepped away, she didn't bother to say anything, knowing there was nothing to be said.

But Mischa stepped up, shoulder-checking Tatiana as she passed. "Good luck with your concession speech," she said lowly. "I hope you choke on it."

The tension was thick as ever as Tatiana stormed off, leaving Mischa and Dimitri alone. With the woman she hated gone, Mischa kept her eyes glued to the ground while speaking. "Can we talk for a sec?" she asked, her tone much softer now.

"You should want nothing to do with me," Dimitri said, his words clipped and sounding strained.

Mischa let out a sigh while also seeing a few members of a news crew talking not too far away, knowing it wouldn't be long before they spotted the two together. So, without bothering to say anything else, Mischa grabbed a fistful of his Guardian jacket and dragged him a few feet into a secluded alleyway that kept them out of sight.

"Dimitri," she said, taking in a deep breath and managing to look at him. But now it was he that was refusing to meet her gaze. "Don't make this into a thing. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" he asked, raising his voice. And Dimitri finally snapped his head up, his green eyes boring into hers. "I hit you! These hands that are meant to protect you from harm are what caused this."

"I caused this. It was an accident," she insisted. "You can't blame yourself for this."

Dimitri looked at the ice pack she was holding to her jaw and shook his head, taking several steps away from her until his back hit the wall. He was terrified to hurt her even more. "I hurt you, Mischa."

"You did hurt me, Dimitri," she admitted. "But it wasn't when we were in that ring, and you know that."

"Look at you," he said, shaking his head in denial. He looked at her busted and bruised lip. "I did this to you. And I am no better than my father."

Mischa dropped the ice pack, letting it hit the ground with a thud while stepping closer to him. Since he couldn't back away anymore, Dimitri turned his head from her, resting it against the brick wall.

"Do not for a second think that you are anything like that man," she whispered. "Despite everything that's happened, I still know you, Dimitri. I know what's in your heart, and you are not at risk of becoming him no matter what you think. This was an accident. You were in an official trial by combat, Rose was baiting you into fighting even after it was over, and you didn't want to hit me."

"But I did," he said, his voice so impossibly quiet and broken.

"And I'll be okay," she said, matching his tone.

"How could you ever forgive me?"

"It's easy when I didn't blame you to begin with."

Dimitri looked down at his clenched fists held out in front of him, unable to stop torturing his mind with images of him punching her, of her dropping like a fragile doll. He was drowning in pain and fear that that unchecked thing in his soul, that darkness he'd always tried to bury was somehow at fault. And he was certain that no amount of Mischa's reassuring words would ever convince him otherwise.

But then Mischa slid her hands over his, his nerves singing at the contact, savoring the warm touch he'd cut himself off from so suddenly. Mischa moved slowly, looking at their hands as well. She covered his hands and slowly worked her fingers against his, gently opening his fists. He could feel his racing heart slow as she rubbed her thumbs calmingly back and forth against his palms.

He didn't really recall his brain telling him to do it as he took over, enveloping her hands with his and pulling her closer to him as he did. Mischa let him silently fixate on it, holding back a soft, content sigh as he grazed her knuckles with his thumbs.

"Are you in pain?" he finally asked, trying his best to not sound choked as he asked it.

She knew he didn't want her to lie to him — it'd only make him feel worse. But she wasn't going to be completely truthful either, knowing he didn't need to know about the concussion. "I've had worse on more than one occasion," she told him, not quite intending to quote what he'd said before giving her the Molnija mark. He still couldn't stomach looking at her, especially now that the ice pack wasn't hiding away the worst of her injuries. "Please, just look at me and know that I'm going to be okay."

Dimitri blinked several times before slowly dragging his eyes from their hands and up her arms, spotting the spots of blood staining the fabric of her dress before continuing up. Before he found her eyes, he found her jaw, which was a mix of red and dark purple colors. Without thinking it through, he brought his right hand up — the same hand he hit her with — and hovered it over the injury, refusing to touch it. Her.

But then Mischa leaned in, letting her cheek meet his warm, calloused fingers. Dimitri grew stiff, refusing to even twitch for fear of causing her more pain. Slowly, Mischa reached up and covered his hand with her own, savoring his touch that she wasn't sure she'd feel like this again.

"These hands do protect me," Mischa whispered, waiting for him to finally look at her. "They always have and always will."

"Not always," Dimitri murmured sadly, finally raising his gaze from her jaw to her eyes. The last time they'd looked at each other like this, he was tearing apart both their hearts for a Dominion that he didn't even know how to believe in anymore. "Rose will protect you."

She studied his face, picking up on that same, subtle jealousy Eddie had mentioned. "I didn't think you'd care very much."

He drew his thick eyebrows inward while brushing his thumb along her cheekbone, steering clear of the bruise below. "I will always care about you, Printsessa," he whispered, the endearing nickname slipping from his lips without meaning for it to after her earlier request. "You're the only one I'll ever care about this way."

Mischa could feel herself being pulled in by the unavoidable magnet that always seemed to draw her to him. But this time, she had painful memories of that last day in St. Ignatius to keep her impulses at bay. So when she saw him dare to glance at her lips, she had to ask, "I thought I was nothing special?"

"I'm a liar," he breathed out, managing to shake his head. "You're my Moroi — not hers. You'll always be my Moroi no matter what happens."

"You're my Dhampir."

Dimitri moved off the wall, each move careful and precise as he slid an arm around Mischa's waist, drawing her into his chest. And even just that — just holding her body that felt like home — managed to both clear his mind of all those self-deprecating thoughts while also clouding it with a symphony of her, her, her, knowing that nothing had ever felt so right as holding Mischa Dragomir in his arms.

As his other hand slid back off her cheek and his fingers threaded in her hair, gently cradling the back of her head, Mischa managed to find her voice one last time. "What are you doing to me?" It had to be asked. Because how was she here in this alley letting him hold her like this after all the agony she'd been through the last few days?

He could only shake his head while leaning closer, just as drawn to her as she was to him. "Only what you also do to me."

Her eyes fell downward to his mouth. She wanted to kiss him. Fuck, she really wanted to kiss him. And every rational thought in her brain was buried by the parts of her that needed him like water. She was scared to ask while also knowing his answer wouldn't really matter. "Have things... changed for you?"

"I don't know," Dimitri admitted, knowing he should feel ashamed of how he was acting. Of how messy his mind still was. He was so close that their noses bumped against each other. "But I don't think I can stop unless you make me."

Mischa's eyes fluttered shut, feeling his warm breath fan over her face. Her hands found his firm chest, but she didn't push him back like he feared she might. They moved upward, one holding onto his shoulder while the other got lost in his hair, pushing her body as close to his as possible.

When she spoke, her top lip brushed his bottom one. "I don't think I want you to."

Dimitri's mouth found hers in the gentlest of kisses, careful with her split lip. And relief washed over them, as if they'd both been holding their breath underwater these last few days but they'd now broken the surface. Mischa could finally breathe as he kissed her.

When his tongue delicately traced her lips and slowly worked them apart, Mischa let out a needy whimper while holding him even tighter. The sound encouraged Dimitri even more as he deepened the kiss, and soon, she found her back pressed against the wall, the cold bricks digging into her skin.

Her bottom lip was beginning to ache, but she hardly felt it. All she felt was his tongue and wandering hands — one was cradling her head at the top of her neck while the other moved down her hips. It was as if his touch left a trail of fire behind, the heat cutting through the thin satin material of her dress.

Eventually, they had to breathe, but it wasn't for long. Dimitri pulled away and looked down at her with dark eyes before diving down and finding her neck. Mischa's eyes rolled back as he sucked harshly just under her jaw with clear intent to leave a mark.

"Dimitri," she breathed out, her mouth hanging open as she let out a whine. He didn't stop until he knew a hickey would be formed, and even after he stopped sucking on her skin, his teeth grazed the mark, earning a sharp intake of breath from her.

"You're my Moroi," Dimitri said lowly. His hand slid up under the skirt of her dress, fingers digging so tightly into her thighs that she wondered if the material of her tights would tear. Dimitri pushed his hips against hers, caging her between him and the wall. She shuddered as he dragged his tongue from her collarbone up to her ear, which he nipped at before speaking into her ear. "Mine."

"I'm yours," Mischa whimpered, holding onto his shoulder and hair like he was a lifeline. Like she was scared to let go — because she was. "I've always been yours."

☾

Mischa stood near the front of the crowd in the event hall with a perfect view of the Queen on her throne. They were all waiting for Victor and Tatiana to come back out so that they could all hear the concession speech.

Her long, black hair was down despite being in a nice braid earlier. She made sure the strands covered her neck and jaw, concealing three fresh, still red hickeys. That wasn't the only change in her appearance. The thin, white tights she'd been wearing all day were gone, abandoned in an alley because of a far too noticeable rip in the thighs that her now-wrinkled dress didn't cover.

If anyone questioned her less-than-immaculate state of dress, she'd blame it on the incident in the boxing ring rather than the relationship backsliding.

It was hard for Mischa to focus on the world around her. Not when every thought was on Dimitri and the impossibly long makeout session in the alleyway that left both of them wanting for more that they couldn't quite have. Because at the end of the day, Dimitri was still confused. He didn't know who he was or what to trust. Though Mischa liked to think she was enough to solve all his problems and the identity crisis he was going through, that wasn't the case.

Dimitri Belikov needed a goddamn therapist, but he'd be taken in for treason or heresy if he admitted to half of what he was struggling with.

Despite how warm she'd been in that alley, Mischa was cold as she left him and returned to the event hall without him. They hadn't said much when it was over — what was there to say?

They weren't together again but they also couldn't stand to be apart, it seemed.

Thoughts of Dimitri were soon pushed to the back of her mind — though not the very back — when Richard and Mia came into the crowd. They had big, proud smiles on their faces, which Mischa matched when they stood beside her.

"Congratulations to the Royal Family," Mischa told them, knowing how excited they were.

"Thank you, Mischa," Richard said. Then he eyed the bruise on her face. "I'm terribly sorry we didn't have the time to check on you. How are you faring?"

"I'm perfect," she assured him, still on cloud nine from kissing Dimitri. And the results of the trial. "And I will continue to be perfect now that Victor is the next King. I hope gold eyes look good with your complexion, Mia."

"Everything looks good with my complexion," Mia said with an amused smirk.

Then a short fanfare began to play, causing the crowd to grow silent and turn to the Queen, who was sitting on her throne. The chairs next to her were empty but would be filled as Victor and Tatiana appeared from the sides and made their way up to the platform.

"It is customary for the runner-up to present a gift to the winner, and tonight, the Elements have declared Lord Victor Dashkov your next king. Lady Vogel, are you ready to present your gift?" the Queen asked, looking to her.

Mischa turned to Tatiana with a pleased smirk, but it quickly dropped. Because Tatiana looked far too fucking pleased for someone who just lost the biggest election in history. She didn't trust Tatiana, and because of that, Mischa was suddenly worried.

"Indeed," she said, standing back up, "it is customary that I should give a concession speech and congratulate the winner. And under normal circumstances, I would be happy to do so, but these aren't normal circumstances. We have shamed the Elements with the choice of Victor Dashkov during these trials."

Low murmurs of disbelief ran through the crowd as she dared to speak ill of their new ruler. Victor eyed his opponent uneasily, but she was looking to the boxing ring. Mischa looked back over her shoulder and saw the two performance clowns spinning some large, square object with red fabric over it. That must have been her concession gift, but it was quite large.

"They could have never have chosen a man so sick in body and in faith that he would allow this to happen," Tatiana said with a sharp accusation in her tone.

As she gestured to the stage, and everyone looked, the clowns pulled off the fabric. It was clear they had no idea what was underneath as they scrambled back in fear. Screams tore through the room, and several even fled despite the fact that she was contained. Mischa even flinched as she banged against the clear containment walls, letting out animalistic snarls.

Richard and Mia looked on in horror with tears in their eyes as Victor slowly sank back down into his chair. He looked away from her and at Tatiana, who was simply smirking at the horrible thing she'd done. Then his husband and daughter turned away from the cage, unable to stomach the sight, and instead looked up at him in betrayal. Victor had, after all, been lying all day about speaking to her several times.

Tears welled in Mischa's eyes as she looked at the cage. She watched the monster with a familiar face screech and scream and snarl like an animal. And all the while, other horrific images flashed before Mischa's eyes alongside of her. Images of Mikhail, of the man she loved, and his last moments on earth in the exact same state.

Sonya Karp had turned Strigoi, and Tatiana Vogel was showing her off like a caged circus animal.