He doesn’t respond. Not right away.
The silence stretches, sharp and tense, broken only by the slosh of his footsteps closing in.
Finally, I turn.
He’s beautiful in the way villains always are—wet hair clinging to his forehead, storm light catching on his cheekbones, eyes dark with something that used to look like love and now looks like possession. His maroon velvet jacket is soaked through, black with water, molding to the cut of his shoulders, the lines of his arms.
“You told me you were trying to get us home,” I say, my voice barely above the rain. “All those meetings, all that posturing… You made it sound like you had everything handled.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t, Alder.” My voice breaks open, sharp and rising. “If you did, you wouldn’t have wanted me to follow you to a sermon led by a murderer.” I swipe rain from my face with the back of my hand, breath hitching. “I don’t know what the point was, but it wasn’t anything that would get us home.”
“I wanted you to come so you’d understand what we’re up against,” he says. “You needed to see the power we’re dealing with. The control they have. The kindof belief they’re feeding. So you’d stop dreaming about escape like it’s a door we can just walk through,” he snaps. “So you’d see that surviving here doesn’t come from wishing for home. It comes from learning how to play the game.”
I take a step back, fury curling tight beneath my skin. “You think I don’t understand? That I haven’t seen enough to know there is dangerous shit going on here?”
“I am protecting you.”
“Stop lying!” The words tear from my throat like lightning. “You’re protecting yourself. You want me to believe you’re the only thing standing between me and disaster. And I did. God help me, I did. I believed you. I thought you were the way out, but—”
“No, Gemma. You still don’t get it. There was never going to be a way home.”
The words hit like a slap. I blink, stunned, the rain blurring the edges of him as if the storm itself wants to erase him from my life.
“I told you what you needed to hear,” he continues, stepping closer, the rain sliding down his face, slicking his hair to his temples. “Because you weren’t ready to hear the truth. You still aren’t.”
“What truth?” I breathe.
“That this”—he gestures to the castle, the chapel behind us, the drenched stone courtyard glowing silver with lightning flashes—“is the plan. This kingdom, this power, this future. There is no South Carolina anymore.”
I stagger backward, the ground seeming to tilt beneath my feet. “You said—”
“I said what you needed me to say so you’d let me do what I had to,” he bites out, no softness left. “Becauseif you knew I’d made this choice for us, you would have fought me. And I couldn’t have you messing this up for me like you did back home.”
I blink against the rain, against the sting of betrayal. My pulse thunders in my ears, drowning everything but the terrible, inevitable truth.
“Oh my God,” I breathe. “How could I be so naïve?” I laugh, but it breaks apart halfway out of my mouth. “You were never trying to escape Towerfall. You were always going to stay.”
His lips part, but I hold up a trembling hand.
“Don’t.”
His voice dips, gentle now, soft like his manipulation always is. “For us, Gemma.”
“Fuck off, Alder!” My voice rises again, cracking at the edges. “Don’t you dare make this about us. You’re carving out a place for yourself here, building a life in this kingdom, playing politics while I’ve been running around trying to survive it.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Were you ever going to tell me?” I demand. “Or were you going to keep stringing me along with half-truths and sweet little moments until I forgot what I wanted altogether?”
The rain continues to fall, pooling in the space between us.
“You know what’s pathetic?” I whisper. “I let you lead. I let you steer our whole relationship because it was easier—because you always seemed like you knew what you were doing, like you had a plan.” I shake my head, my breath ragged. “But it wasn’t easier. Letting you lead landed me here. In a strange kingdom, in a soaking wetdress, standing in front of a man who lied to me and ruined my life.”
He flinches, barely.
“Actually no,” I say, voice steeling. “I’m not giving you that kind of power. I made those choices. And, I’m proud of them. Because they did bring me here. To the truth about you. About me.”
