Olive kisses me suddenly, and I shut my eyes. I missed this. I think, and grab her around the waist, pulling her onto my lap while I kiss her firmly. She clings to my shoulders, her hands moving up to tangle in my hair. 

The ground underneath us is cold, but the air between our mouths is warmer than anything I’ve ever felt. “Ivvy,” I mumble, and she pulls away, her eyes filling with tears. 

“I thought it would bring you back, bring the memories back,” She sniffles, leaning on my shoulder as I cling to her legs. “It just hurts more,” Olive tells me, her breathing heavy. 

“You shouldn’t try to remember. It’s going to be fine,” I promise her, wiping her tears away. 

“I don’t want you hurting yourself because I’m with him and I don’t remember you,” She whimpers, her gray eyes wet and shiny. Our breath fogs up the area. 

“Olive,” I mutter, tilting her chin upwards. “Harrison loves you. You can’t be forcing yourself into anything here for me, if there’s someone who needs you more than I do,” I tell her. She swallows. 

“You’re hurting yourself,” She says. I shrug, looking at my arm. 

“I’ll stop if you marry Harrison,” I tell her. She wipes her nose, looking at me through squinted eyes. 

“What?” She asks. “Cai…” 

“Olive.” I set her down on the ground. “I want you to marry him. Forget about me. It’s what is best for you.” She wipes her eyes, and curls her knees up to her chest. 

“Can we just forget that… I did that?” She asks, fixing her hair. I nod. 

“It never happened, and you’ll have a great wedding.” I lift her up and carry her to the top of the stairs from the cellar entrance. “I think the plain white dress is great, and you look wonderful in it.” 

“Okay,” She answers. I set her down, and she clings to the metal railing. It starts to move, and she quickly pulls back her hand, her eyes wide. 

“You can still do that?” I ask. 

“Somewhat. I can almost control it. Harrison taught me,” Olive explains, and folds her arm. “You… you promise you’ll be okay, and you won’t scratch yourself?” I chuckle. 

“If I start to, I’ll just remember this conversation.” I tell her, reaching for her forearm. I rub the scars there gently, then kiss her knuckles. “Harrison is lucky,” I tell her, and she looks away, swallowing. 

“I’m going to go in through the cellar, it’s warmer than that way,” She tells me, heading down the stairs again. 

“Okay.” I wave to her, and she disappears. 

◈◈◈◈

There’s a sound of whimpering, from one of the rooms in the cellar. “Angel?” I ask, and walk over to a window. There’s a guard in front of it. There’s a loud scream from inside the cell. I see a flash of blonde hair with red, in the shadowy corner.

“She’s a dangerous prisoner,” The guard tells me. 

“Let me in. I can handle myself,” I tell them. “I’m Lord Anders’ fiancé.” The guard opens the door for me, and I step inside. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” I hear Angel say, from the corner. The room is pitch-black, with only a small piece of wood on the floor, cracked and splintered. 

“Angel, are you okay?” I ask. I see a blood-stained hand brush blonde hair out of the way of red-rimmed green eyes. 

“You. You’re dead. Am I…” Angel sobs. “Am I dead too? Where’s Kollan?” She edges into the corner, barely clothed, with dry blood sticking to her skin. I pull off my warm cloak, and pass it over. She flinches, but takes it, and wraps herself up. 

“You’re not dead. Neither am I. Who’s… who’s Kollan?” I ask. Angel coughs, shivering. “Bring me some water and food! Now!” I call to the guard, who nods, heading away from the window. 

“My husband, the man killed him, he-” Angel coughs. “The man says he’s punishing me for hurting you.” I tilt my head. 

“Who’s the man?” I ask. She shrugs. 

“It’s always dark, I never see his face,” She whimpers. “P-please, Olive, I-” She retches and coughs, spitting bile on the ground next to her. 

“Well, nobody deserves this sort of treatment,” I mutter. “Do you know anything about the man? I’m going to stop him from hurting you.” 

“Y-you can’t stop him,” She says, shaking her head. “He’s too strong.” 

“Give me any feature, Angel, and I promise you that you won’t get hurt again.” I tell her. She shakes her head. 

“That’s a lie, I murdered hundreds, just so I could get to you,” She croaks out. “You’ll have me killed as soon as you can.” 

“I don’t believe in the death penalty, and after this, what is best is a hospital, Angel. I’ll hire a counselor for you.” I reach over, straightening the cloak. “Help me find the man who hurt you.” 

“He… he has a strange voice,” Angel mumbles, scratching at her cheek with her fingers. Her nails are all chewed off. “It was kind of sing-songy, but low. He-” She blinks. “He had a ring on his hand. It cut me,” She reaches for a cut on her eyebrow, and the dark burgundy drips coming down. 

“Have you heard that accent before?” I ask. Angel shakes her head. The food arrives, some bread and cheese, and a glass of water. Angel drinks the water in gulps, then eats the food quickly. It couldn’t be- 

“Once he was sort of in the light,” Angel mumbles. “He has dark skin, kind of like… like Julia’s skin tone.” She mumbles. “I barely remember what Julia looks like, so I hope I-” Angel bites her lip. “He didn’t have a shirt. There was a dragon tattoo on his shoulder.” 

I drop the empty glass cup that I’m holding from Angel, and it shatters on the ground. Angel yelps and screams, her chest moving up and down. 

“Harrison,” I choke out, and quickly stand up. “Come on, we’re getting you out,” I tell her. 

“I’m… mostly naked,” She sobs. “And they’ll kill me.” I offer her a hand. 

“Just keep the cloak around you, and I’ll get you some clothes once you’re safe, come this way.” I pull her by the hand, and she gets up, following me out the door. The guard protests, but I pass him some coins from my pocket. 

“This isn’t… Lord Anders will kill me when he gets back and she’s not here,” He argues. 

“So run.” I pull Angel along, and I get to a tiny guest bedroom on the first floor. I’ve never seen anyone near it. “Stay in here,” I tell her, and she nods, sitting on the soft bed. “I’ll have my sister bring clothing and food, she can be trusted,” I tell Angel, who nods, gray and thin and bruised in the light. 

Casey is upstairs, and I tell her the situation, then follow her around as she gathers dresses from my closet that are longer, so they’ll fit Angel’s tall frame. “Are Mom and Dad coming to the wedding?” I eventually ask. Casey pauses, then sighs. 

“They died the same day I thought you did,” My sister answers. I blink. 

“What?” I ask. Casey nods. 

“Dad’s in a wheelchair. And the building was falling, there was no way out for him,” Casey explains slowly. “Mom passed me off to Cai and held Dad in her arms as everything crumbled.” My eyes fill with tears. “They did end up caring for each other in the end, I guess,” She says. “Cai got me out, and everything went downhill. They told me I didn’t have you anymore.” 

I hug my sister, and she drops the dresses, hugging me back. Soon she leaves with the clothing, and some clean underwear, and I sit at the foot of my bed, my stomach churning. Harrison, he- I hear a knock on my door. 

◈◈◈◈

“Who is it?” Olive calls, and opens her door. I quickly walk away, my arms folded. “Cai, Cai, I have to talk to you.” She runs over. 

“I- I’m leaving before the wedding, Olive,” I tell her. 

“N-no, you can’t leave.” Olive starts to sob, her hands shaking. She looks pale, and nauseous. “I-” She collapses to the ground. 

“Nerves, most likely,” Harrison says, feeling Olive’s temperature as I carry her to his office, unconscious. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just as nervous about the wedding. Thank you for bringing her here.” 

I nod, as she lies on the leather couch, her forehead coated with sweat as she groans in discomfort. 

“I’ve been speaking with your friend Flint, and also Ember, about the revolution. Our combined efforts could work, but you don’t seem to be doing so well in the situation.” 

“I’ve never been much of a fighter. I just want to rest,” I explain. He nods, chuckling. 

“With luck, this war will be over soon. Unless some Robespierre decides to start beheading the aristocracy, and things get out of hand for both sides,” Harrison says with a chuckle. 

“How do you know about the French Revolution?” I ask. Harrison chuckles. 

“Well, as my close friend, I guess I could tell you. I’m not from this era.” He tells me a story about getting frozen three hundred years ago? And waking up and starting the revolution in Fire, then rescuing Olive once he found out she had powers. 

“Wow,” I mutter, blinking. “I’m glad Olive found someone she can be happy and safe with,” I tell him. 

“I’ve never loved anyone more,” Harrison says cheerfully, smiling over at her. “I should have Wyatt carry her to her bed, poor thing needs her rest.” He presses a button on his desk, and Dellyn enters, lifting a limp Olive up, and carrying her out. 

“I’m leaving late tonight,” I tell him, coughing. “I’m going back to the old base, with my friend Isaiah, I’ll be missing the wedding.” 

“Well, I hope you travel safely. Sorry you won’t be there to celebrate with us,” He says. “I’ll have Dellyn accompany you too, since these waters are full of Angel’s loyalists,” He says, and I nod. 

“Thank you,” I stand up, and shake his hand before leaving. He has a nice strong handshake. He can protect Olive from the world the way I couldn’t. 

I walk past her room to mine, and start packing. When the sun sets, Dellyn waits by the door, watching me. He takes my bag, and puts it down in the car’s trunk, where Isaiah waits with his stuff too. 

The roads to the docks should be good, since the snowstorm stopped, and they’ve just plowed and salted. 

I get in the back of the vehicle, next to Isaiah, and Harrison’s guards point a pair of pistols at my face after the door shuts and locks. I mutter something not very good under my breath. 

◈◈◈◈