The narrow passage creaked faintly as I slipped back through the stone door and out into the cold night air. I tugged the hood lower over my face and stuck to the shadows, retracing every turn, every alley, every crooked step back toward the ruined entrance where Robin waited.
The bundle of food weighed heavier in my hands than I expected. It smelled warm—like salted fish and fresh bread—and my stomach twisted with hunger so sharp it bordered on pain.
But I didn't stop. Not once. Not until I reached the collapsed fruit stand where the rusted grate waited beneath.
I glanced over my shoulder, heart thudding in my ears. The street was empty, but the weight of unseen eyes pressed on my back. I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd crossed a line tonight. That I'd been seen.
I forced the thought aside and slipped through the grate, pulling it closed behind me. The musty air of the underground passage wrapped around me like a wet blanket as I crept toward the hidden chamber where I'd left Robin.
"Robin," I whispered softly as I approached. "It's me."
At first, there was no response. My breath hitched.
But then I saw her—huddled in the same spot I'd left her, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees. Her head snapped up the moment she heard my voice, wide eyes glassy with exhaustion and fear.
"Raven!"
The relief in her voice cracked something inside me.
I crossed the distance in two quick strides and dropped to my knees in front of her, pulling her into my arms. She clung to me instantly, her small body shaking like a leaf in a storm.
"I got food," I whispered, pressing the cloth-wrapped bundle into her hands. "It's not much, but—"
I didn't even finish before she tore the bundle open with trembling fingers. She didn't speak. Didn't thank me. She just started eating—small bites at first, like she was afraid it might vanish if she moved too quickly.
I sat beside her, watching in silence. The faint lantern light filtering through the cracks in the ceiling cast soft shadows across her face. She looked even smaller now, curled up on the cold stone floor, but the color was slowly returning to her cheeks.
When she finished half the plate, she wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and leaned her head against my shoulder. "Thanks for the food." Without even moving, she handed over the rest of the food.
I let my head fall back against the damp wall, staring at the ceiling. The plate of half eating food now in my other hand.
"We'll rest here tonight," I murmured, barely able to keep my voice steady. "But tomorrow… we need to figure out our next move."
Robin nodded softly against me, her breathing finally evening out as exhaustion dragged her under.
I stayed awake long after her breathing slowed. I looked down at the food Robin saved for me. I knew she was hungry and that she wanted to eat the whole thing, but she still held back so that I could eat too.
I ate every last bite. I needed all the energy I could get. Because tomorrow… we'd have to decide whether to trust Nyx again. And I wasn't sure if that would save us—or break us all over again.
The air in the ruined chamber grew colder as the hours dragged on.
Robin curled against my side, her tiny frame trembling now and then, even in sleep. I kept my arm around her, holding her close, as if my body alone could shield her from everything we'd lost.
But my mind wouldn't rest.
I stared at the cracked ceiling above, watching thin beams of moonlight flicker through the gaps. I could hear the faintest drip of water from somewhere deeper in the ruin—a slow, rhythmic beat that somehow made the silence heavier.
It crept in, tightening around my throat like invisible fingers.
And like it always did when I was still too long… the memories started clawing their way back.
Not her memories. Mine.
I couldn't remember what led to my death—not fully. But I remembered the before.
Sitting alone in a tiny apartment, a flickering TV casting shadows against peeling wallpaper. The hum of city traffic outside a cracked window. A calendar on the wall, weeks crossed out without meaning.
I remembered… books. Stacks of them. Some borrowed. Most stolen. History. Science. Mythology. I devoured them all like they were oxygen. Not because I loved the stories. But because they were safe.
Because books couldn't leave. Couldn't betray. Couldn't hurt.
I remembered sitting cross-legged on the floor, highlighter in one hand, fingers brushing over words I didn't even understand—but memorizing them anyway.
I remembered the crushing, gnawing ache of wanting something more. Something real. Something warm.
But it never came. Not in that life.
The only thing that did come… was fire.
I flinched as the phantom sensation crawled up my arms again—skin splitting, air burning, lungs collapsing under smoke thick enough to choke a scream before it ever left my throat.
I gritted my teeth, shaking my head as if I could throw the memories off like water. But they clung to me. They always clung.
And now… here I was again.
Another ruin. Another failure. Another life spent running with nothing but ghosts for company.
Except…I glanced down at Robin, sleeping fitfully against me.
Except for her. My little sister—no, this world's little sister—whose tears had broken something open in me I didn't know I still had.
I tightened my arm around her and let out a slow, shaking breath.
It didn't matter who I used to be. It didn't matter what I lost. I wasn't alone this time. And I wouldn't let her be either.
As I finally drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but think how lucky to have such a cute sister.
When morning finally broke, the dim shafts of light slicing through the ceiling cracks had turned pale and thin—soft reminders that time hadn't stopped, no matter how much it felt like it should have.
Robin stirred weakly in my arms, blinking up at me with swollen eyes and raw exhaustion clouding her expression. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to.
I gave her a faint nod, brushing a few tangled strands of hair away from her face. "Come on," I whispered. "We can't stay here."
Reluctantly, she sat up, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve. Her movements were sluggish, but she didn't protest when I stood and helped her to her feet.
The city above had already begun to hum again—distant voices, the creak of carts, and the clang of metal against wood. But the streets would be less guarded in the early hours. If we were careful, we could reach Nyx's hidden door before anyone noticed us.
We slipped out of the ruin with quiet steps, sticking close to the walls, avoiding the larger streets. I kept Robin tucked behind me, my body tensed with every glance around the corners.
Nyx had said the door was always guarded. I just hadn't expected the "guard" to be her again.
There she was—leaning casually against the same stone wall, chewing lazily on a strip of dried fish, like she hadn't spent the night hunting street rats or plotting our downfall.
Her dark eyes flicked toward us the moment we approached, and a crooked smile curved her lips.
"Morning, little mouse," she greeted, voice smooth as silk. Her gaze shifted to Robin. "Brought your shadow with you this time, I see."
Robin tensed behind me, shrinking back.
I stepped forward instinctively, placing myself between them. "We're here for food. Shelter. Nothing else."
Nyx raised a brow but said nothing. She straightened, rapped her knuckles three times on the hidden stone panel, and the door groaned open once again.
"Come on in, then," she said, stepping aside with an exaggerated sweep of her hand. "Welcome to the underbelly."
Robin hesitated, clutching the edge of my torn sleeve. I leaned back toward her, whispering softly, "Stay close."
Together, we stepped into the dimly lit space once again.
The same women from the night before glanced up, their gazes lingering longer this time. The redhead leaned back in her chair with a smirk, while the pale-haired woman scribbled something in her journal without looking up.
Nyx closed the door behind us with a soft thud.
"No one followed you," she stated rather than asked, her tone somewhere between lazy and sharp.
"No," I answered shortly, pulling Robin a little closer. "You said you had food. Prove it."
Nyx let out a low chuckle, glancing over her shoulder toward the long table. She motioned with a tilt of her head. "Help yourselves. But after that… we talk."
My stomach twisted. This was more than a handout. It was the start of something… I just didn't know if it was a trap I could afford to escape from.
I didn't trust any of them. But I couldn't ignore the ache in my stomach or the way Robin's knees trembled with every step.
I led her toward the table in the back, ignoring the way the other women watched us. Plates of leftover fish, rice, and dried fruit sat piled in small portions. No one stopped us when I filled a bowl for Robin and one for myself.
Robin settled beside me, eating in small, careful bites, her eyes darting toward every sound like a frightened animal.
I kept my back to the wall, head bowed as I listened. Not to the women near us, but to the pair sitting further down the table, speaking in hushed tones—too low for Robin to hear, but just loud enough for me to catch pieces if I strained.
"…caught another one last night, down by the docks."
"Another runaway?"
"No. Fresh haul. Kid couldn't have been older than seven. Same dealer that runs the Black Cove Market."
I stiffened, my jaw clenching so tightly I thought my teeth might crack.
The other woman snorted quietly. "Business must be good if they're risking shipments this close to the city walls."
"Doesn't matter," the first replied, voice cold. "They're hosting a private showing tomorrow night. Highest bidder gets first pick."
Robin shifted beside me, curling closer without realizing why. I reached over and rubbed her back slowly, trying to soothe her without drawing attention.
The women at the far end laughed softly to themselves, like they hadn't just confirmed every nightmare I'd feared since we'd arrived.
A slave market. Right here on this island.
And worse… I had a sinking feeling those men chasing us yesterday weren't random thugs. They were likely part of that ring. We'd wandered straight into a hunter's cage without knowing it.
My stomach twisted. I couldn't let them see us again.
I glanced toward Nyx, who leaned against the far wall, watching us from the corner of her eye. She hadn't joined the conversation, but something in her expression told me she'd heard every word too.
I had no idea if she was part of it…or planning to sell us herself.
I turned back to Robin and leaned in close, dropping my voice to a whisper only she could hear.
"Eat slow. Don't look at anyone. We'll leave soon."
Robin nodded faintly, but I could feel her small hands start to shake again.
I had to decide… confront Nyx now? Or slip away before they noticed?
Robin must have felt the shift in me—the way my body tensed, the way my eyes never left Nyx. She slowed her eating, sensing something was wrong, but she didn't ask. Not here. Not with all these strangers so close.
I leaned in, lowering my voice to barely a breath against her ear. "I need you to go back. Now."
Robin froze, clutching her bowl like it was the last thing keeping her grounded. She looked up at me, eyes wide and scared. "But—"
I shook my head once, firm. "I'll be right behind you. I promise. But I need you somewhere safe."
Her bottom lip trembled, but she nodded. She trusted me—too much. I wrapped her hands in mine, steadying them. "Stick to the shadows. Don't let anyone see you. Go now."
Robin stood slowly, slipping toward the back wall like a wisp of smoke. The other women barely spared her a glance, too caught up in their low conversation or sharpening their weapons.
Nyx watched her, though. Watched her very carefully.
I waited until Robin slipped through the door and it sealed behind her before I stood.
Nyx's dark eyes flicked to me as I approached, her arms still crossed lazily over her chest like she'd been expecting this since the second I walked in.
I stopped a few paces away, keeping my voice low but razor-edged. "How long were you planning to wait before telling me this city sells children?"
The lazy curve of her mouth didn't falter. If anything, she looked… amused. "So you did hear."
I took another step, fists curling at my sides. "Are you part of it?"
That wiped the smirk clean off her face. Her gaze sharpened, cutting through the dim light like the edge of a blade. She pushed off the wall with slow, deliberate steps until we were standing nearly chest to chest.
"I don't deal in chains," she said quietly, deadly serious. "I deal in information. You wanted food. You wanted shelter. You never asked for the price."
I swallowed back the heat rising in my throat, fighting the urge to strike first and ask questions later. "You let us walk in here knowing damn well this island's crawling with slave hunters."
Nyx leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something darker. "And you let your sister eat at my table, knowing you'd rather slit my throat than thank me."
My jaw clenched. She wasn't wrong. But that didn't mean I'd trust her.
"Why tell me now?" I hissed.
Nyx's lips twitched—not quite a smile, not quite a sneer. "Because you're already thinking about running again. And I don't feel like watching you starve to death in a gutter when there's a much better way."
I narrowed my eyes. "And what's that?"
She leaned in so close I could feel the heat of her breath against my ear.
"You burn the market to the ground."
I stiffened at her words, breath catching in my throat.
Burn it to the ground?
I turned my head slightly, narrowing my eyes at her, keeping my voice low and cutting. "You better explain exactly what the hell that means… because if you're playing me, I swear—"
Nyx let out a low breath that might have been a laugh, though it didn't reach her eyes. She leaned back just enough to meet my gaze, arms folding across her chest again.
"I mean burn it down," she repeated flatly. "Tear apart the market. Free the stock. Burn the ledgers. Make sure none of the rats who profit from it walk away clean."
She watched me closely, like she was measuring every breath I took.
"And before you ask," she added, stepping around me and motioning toward the table with a flick of her wrist, "no, this crew doesn't deal in that filth. We've been tracking Black Cove's shipments for months. But they've gotten smarter—started using private buyers, hidden docks, and disposable brokers."
Nyx glanced over her shoulder, eyes narrowing. "Tomorrow's showing is different. It's big. High value stock. High value buyers. Word is, a Celestial Dragon's personal broker is arriving to inspect the merchandise."
Her mouth twisted like the words themselves tasted like bile.
"That's the window," she finished, turning back to me fully. "They'll all be in one place. Locked down, sure… but vulnerable. If someone on the inside set the right fire…" She leaned in again, her smile sharper now. "You'd have a very big distraction."
I stared at her, heart pounding.
She wasn't lying. Or at least… not completely.
But I knew people like her didn't do anything for free.
I crossed my arms, planting my feet. "And what's your stake in this?"
Nyx's smile faded into something colder—quieter.
"They took someone from me," she said softly, almost like she didn't mean to let it slip. "A long time ago."
She straightened, shrugging like she hadn't just dropped that weight between us.
"You want to run, fine. No one's stopping you. But you and that little shadow of yours are already marked. You'll never make it off this island without one of them sniffing you out."
She leaned one shoulder against the wall, tilting her head lazily again. "But… burn the nest? You'll have every pair of eyes looking the other way long enough to slip through the cracks."
My fists clenched at my sides.
It sounded like a suicide mission. But so had Ohara. And we survived that.
I didn't have many choices left. I took a slow breath, heart hammering in my chest.
"Tell me everything," I whispered.