Nightmares plague my exhausted sleep. Instead of guards eventually coming to my rescue, hours pass with only Fleetfire for company. At some point, the wind picks up, bringing a chill that winds its way into my bones. At first, I think the sound is just the wind sighing through the trees. But as it gets progressively louder, something in my mind tells me it's not.

When I hear the voices—seeming to come from everywhere and yet nowhere—I suck in a breath so hard it makes me cough. "You can't escape your past, Lauren." "It will always be a part of you." The words are now permanently etched in my brain, haunting me in nightmares and daydreams. I'm not sure when, but at some point in the past few months, I somehow fell back into that vicious cycle of self-loathing.

I meant what I said to Ethan: I let the king turn me into something I wasn't—a meek, quiet girl who blended into the shadows. Though I had a few happy memories of Moonbright, if I was being honest, the bad experiences outweighed the good. I hate who I was—a girl who let herself be bullied and taunted for years. Who was too scared to stand up for herself.

When I met Ethan, my broken self had begun to heal. I tried my hardest to start anew, to pretend the past had never happened, too afraid of what would happen if my secret were to get out.

A flash of memory suddenly jolts through my brain, so violent that I jerk awake, shuddering and biting back a cry. We'd just reached the forest, the impending panic attack clouding my senses. Neither Fleetfire nor I had noticed the horse and rider approaching us until I heard the panting of another horse. A flash of black hair was all I saw before I went flying through the air.

Yet it had been enough for recognition to flood my veins a heartbeat before the pain did. I'd know that hair color anywhere; I'd be able to recognize it even if I was blind. The only question is, why did my father attack me? Could he have been lying in wait for me, or had it just been the wrong place, wrong time?

My grip is white-knuckled on the blankets, my breathing sharp and ragged through clenched teeth. Various emotions hit me like lightning, giving me little time to adjust before the next strike. Anger; confusion; pain; grief; fear. What had he said to me all those months ago in one of the various nightmares?

"'You can't escape your past, Lauren. Sooner or later, it'll catch up to you.'"

And it has, I realize with a shudder. The nightmares and flashbacks—they're all permanent reminders of my time at Moonbright. My father is probably the most chilling reminder of all. I may have escaped the king's clutches, but I'll never escape the PTSD, anxiety, and depression that resulted from my time there.

As if he hears my thoughts, Ethan stirs, rolling over to face me. His eyes are clear and alert as they focus on me. "What's up?" he whispers, and only then do I realize I'm shaking.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. A glance out the nearest window reveals night still blanketing the grounds, the moon shining high in the sky. If I were to guess, I'd say it was midnight. I'd only gone to sleep a few hours earlier. I take another breath, letting it out slowly.

"Take your time," he says, eyes locked on mine. He shifts to grip my clammy hand in his warm one, the contact sending shivers down my spine. I open and close my mouth several times—each time, the words sit on my tongue, unspoken. Fear jolts down my spine as I realize the implications of what I've yet to say.

The news could potentially change everything. Before that thought even fully forms, another takes its place, equally as shocking. All this time, I've been wondering about the identity of the mysterious spy that the king had mentioned to my father. How did it take so long for me to figure it out?

It's been staring me in the face this whole time; I'd been too distracted by the nightmares and everything else happening. The king's words surface in my mind, harsh and cold. "'According to my spy, she has nightmares almost every night that leaves her gasping as she wakes.'"

My heart breaks clean in half, the crack all but audible. Slowly, calmly, I turn to Ethan, my face void of emotion. His eyes are full of questions and concern. Fear quickly spreads across his features as he opens his mouth. "Lauren—"

As if she'd been waiting for this exact moment, Gwen suddenly springs out of the shadows; a dagger clutched in her fist and fury blazing in her eyes. I swipe the blade out of her hand in midair and shove her. She lets out a grunt as she hits the floor. A cold sense of calm settles over me as I stare at my maid, whom I thought I could trust without a doubt. Who I thought would never betray me.

I'm out of bed and dressed in a flash, the ragged breathing of Gwen the only sound in the bedroom. She scrambles to her feet, the malice in her eyes banking slightly. "Why?" I breathe, my voice emotionless as I stare at her.

Inside, I'm cursing myself for missing the signs, for not having seen it sooner. Who knows how long she's been working for the king? What has she told him?

"Did you know he would attack me during my ride?" The words are breathless, my chest heaving. An eternity seems to pass between my question and her response. When she finally speaks, her voice is cold, unfriendly.

"No. I didn't even know who he was until a letter arrived months ago addressed to me. In the year that I've been here, he used my absence to kidnap my older sister." The malice banks even more as tears glitter in Gwen's eyes. "He used her as a bargaining chip to sway me to his side, saying he'd kill her if I didn't cooperate."

My unspoken question must show on my face because she nods. "She's alive. The king is holding her hostage, but he hasn't hurt her." Her voice breaks as she breathes the last word. "Please, Lauren. You have to believe me. I never meant to hurt you. I was ecstatic when you chose me to be your lady-in-waiting. Despite the abuse you suffered—"I stiffen slightly when the word leaves her mouth—"you never lost your light. You remained cheerful, refusing to let what happened dull your spirit."

My ankle gives a twinge of pain and buckles, but Ethan grips my arm, keeping me upright. "You're right. I will probably have invisible scars on my heart forever due to what I went through. The king is despicable. His heart is blacker than any I've ever seen. While in Moonbright, I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. But I didn't."

I take a shaky breath, realizing I'm trembling a heartbeat later. "I suffered for years in that castle, doing whatever I could to keep my family safe. Everyone in this castle—everyone in Maliwen—has been a victim of the king at one point or another. Yet none of them turned their backs on their fellow citizens, instead choosing to band together and lend a hand to those in need."

My voice breaks, but I don't stop. I can feel a pit yawning open before me, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to resist its pull. Even when I found out about my father and the king, I hadn't felt this amount of pain. Closing my eyes, I take a breath, exhaling deeply before opening them again. Glancing at Ethan, I let my gaze convey what I can't say, all the warring emotions in my heart.

He nods, squeezing my hand before turning back to Gwen. I don't know if he'd been waiting outside the room or if he'd been alerted beforehand of what was to occur, but Wyatt is right outside, a grim expression on his face. He merely nods at Ethan and me before focusing his gaze on Gwen.

He snaps his gaze back to mine, concern surfacing in his eyes. "Are you alright, my lady?"

For a heartbeat, confusion surfaces in my own. Then the pain hits me, sharp as the dagger she'd used to attack me. A slice on my cheek is bleeding heavily. When I lift a shaking hand to my face and my fingers come back bloody, I have to bite back a shudder.

Wyatt walks inside, his eyes emotionless as he turns to Gwen. It happens in the span of a single blink, providing little time for any of us to react. She lunges again, slicing the same cheek and reopening the wound. The pain almost causes me to falter, but Ethan grips my arm, keeping me upright. Wyatt quickly restrains Gwen, her eyes blazing as she stares at both of us.

"You're just as weak as your father said." Just one sentence—eight words that send dagger-sharp stings of pain to my heart.

I don't even bother responding. It's taking all of my self-control to keep my face expressionless. Only when Wyatt and Gwen finally exit the suite, the pain and grief in the guard's eyes stark, do my legs give out. "I've got you, Laur," Ethan says, tightening his grip on me.

My gaze is blank as I stare at nothing. After everything that's happened—the letter, my father and the king, my accident—I didn't think I'd have to deal with another life-altering event. Hours later, I lay awake in bed, tear streaks on my cheeks.

I don't even feel fury or grief—I feel numb. When the tears finally flow down my cheeks, I feel like a dam has broken inside me. The question is, will I be able to staunch the flow before it's too late?

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