Lucky shrugged off his leather jacket, setting it carefully aside, not rushing anything. Cora glanced at the black window as she shed her dress. She had to believe Cassian wasn’t watching. If he was knowingly letting this happen, then she really had been blind. Cassian said he’d never be cruel to her, but this was the definition of cruel—watching this happen, knowing how terrible it was. He must be able to see inside Lucky’s head and read his intentions: that they would sleep together tonight, that they’d soon be as deliriously in love as Rolf and Nok, that Cora would get pregnant too, and then next year the same thing, and the year after that. It might have been paradise for the others, but it was Cora’s hell.
As Lucky slid one camisole strap over her shoulder, she looked at the ceiling, at the stars he had drawn there. He’d done the best he could, but it would never be right.
A realization suddenly struck her.
That’s why Cassian isn’t stopping this.
Just as Cassian could see inside Lucky’s head, he could see inside hers too. He knew that Lucky might have every intention of them sleeping together, but she didn’t.
She couldn’t.
Cassian wasn’t stopping it because he knew she was going to stop it herself.
A tear rolled to her chin. She imagined what would have happened if she and Lucky had met on Earth, before the accident, just two strangers. Maybe her expensive car had broken down, and he’d come to fix it in his worn jeans with a rag in his back pocket. She might have loved him there, on the side of the road, on Earth.
But not like this.
She whispered, “Lucky, do you remember when you taught me to spar in the desert?”
He nodded against her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut. The memory was fresh: sand warm against her back, hunger to feel his lips on hers. “Of course I do,” he said. “It’s hard to forget having a beautiful girl under you.”
“I just want to say that I paid attention,” she choked. “And that I’m sorry.”
She dropped her hand down, curling her fingers around the ceramic dog on the floor. If she told him how wrong all of this was, he would only smile and whisper something about fate. He would never force her to obey Rule Three, but he’d never understand, either.
She thrust her hip up, throwing him off balance, escaping the mount like they had practiced. His surprise gave her enough time to slam the ceramic dog into the side of his head, where it connected with a sickening sound.
He slumped against the bed, moaning.
Tears spilled from her eyes as she held on to him and murmured apology after apology, hating what she had done, hating the Kindred for making him into this twisted person. She pulled on her dress and gave his forehead a trembling kiss. He would wake with a killer headache, but that would be nothing compared to his heartache when he realized she’d deceived him.
The hallway was quiet. Mali’s door was closed. Nok’s and Rolf’s voices came floating up from the living room—she couldn’t go out the front door or they’d see her. She pushed up the bedroom window as silently as she could, and climbed onto the roof, dropped to the grass, and raced out into the town square, where she doubled over, feeling sick and guilty and confused, and fought the urge to throw up.
The Kindred had taken Lucky for his morality, only to twist it. They could cut off her hair, sell it to the highest bidder, cage her, but they wouldn’t twist Cora.
She wiped the sweat from her face and stalked to the nearest black window. Sunrise wouldn’t be for a few hours, but she wasn’t going to sit around and wait.
She hurled her fists against the black glass. “Come on! Why are you waiting?”
Tears ran down her face as she smashed harder and harder, frustrated that it didn’t shatter, or even bruise her palms. She wanted to feel something, even if it was pain.
The hair on her arms started to rise. She gritted her teeth and spun around.
Cassian stood before her. So calm. So collected. As formally as he had the first time he’d appeared, his cold eyes regarding her like a stranger, despite their trip to the menagerie, despite everything he’d revealed, despite the fact that he could reach into her head and see everything she had ever done and thought.
He folded his hands. “I assume by your actions that you are refusing to obey the third rule.”
“That’s right.” She took a slow step forward, challenging him. “I’ll never obey, so you might as well remove me. But I’m not going without a fight.”
A flicker of emotion crossed his face. He hadn’t expected this final act of defiance, but Cora had nothing to lose. They’d twisted Lucky into believing this was home. The others detested her. She was facing a lifetime of being toyed with by the Kindred. She couldn’t fight them forever, but it would feel good to try.
She smashed into him, pummeling him with her fists. That electric spark came when their skin connected, and energized her more. Unlike the illusions of the cage, Cassian was real, and so was his flexible metal armor, and it bruised her fists.
He trapped one of her wrists. “Stop this.”
She didn’t. It felt good to fight, even if he only stood there. She kept struggling as tears streaked down her face. She hurled accusations at him, in words and in thoughts, but he didn’t respond.