Alchemised

by SenLinYu

Remembered that she’d been placed there as a prisoner, kept preserved, but someday, someone would come for her.

She had to endure. To stay alert. That way she would be ready. She had to stay ready. She would not let herself fade away.

His hair had been dark, now it was colourless. While the pallor of his skin didn’t come from age, he looked as if he’d been bleached in moonlight.

Kaine Ferron, where is the chink in your perfect armour? As if on cue, the door opened, and he walked in.

He scoffed. “Hardly. You’re terribly boring.” She should be horrified. She would be—but it would have to happen later. In the moment, all she felt was curiosity. She looked at him. He had a book on poisonous plants in hand, index finger marking his page.

She looked over towards the cage. “Keep a lot of people in cages, Ferron?” His jaw clenched, throat dipping as he swallowed. “Only you,” he said, glancing around at the intricate, iron interior of his ancestral home. “Haven’t you noticed?”

She wasn’t sure she followed the line of thought but responded anyway. “Luc was worth it.” “Why?” The question caught her off guard. She shook her head. “Some people just are. You look at them, and you know it.”

“You irritate my wife,” he said. “Seems I do,” she said blandly. “If you want to do something about it, you could kill me.” He snorted, amusement lighting his face for an instant. “Those tablets really do a number on you.”

She blinked and found him staring down at her. “Worrying about me?” His face twisted into a gloating smile. “I never thought I’d see the day.” Her face burned. “Don’t take it as a compliment. I hate torture.”

Lancaster’s lungs gave a wet rattle. “I assumed you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed her, seeing how you let Aurelia out to play. I’m the one who caught her. She should be mine.” “She’ll never be yours.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said in a tense voice. He took her by the shoulders, turning her towards him. She knew he wouldn’t. He only hurt her on certain days, and this wasn’t one of them, so she sat very still.

If you ever go near her again, or speak to her, or so much as set foot in this wing again, I will kill you, and I will do it slowly, perhaps over the course of an evening or two. That isn’t a threat. It’s a promise. Now get out of my sight.”

“But at this point I suppose I deserve to burn. I wonder if you’ll burn, too.” His face was so close the words brushed against her lips, and his mouth crashed against hers.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked through gritted teeth. “Tell me, and I’ll do it.” He gave a barking laugh. “My gods, Marino. You are desperate.” “I’m here. I assumed that was obvious,” she said in a deadened voice, unable to look at him anymore.

Murderers are still men, she told herself. And he was merely a boy.

Ferron was not human. She knew that the Undying were unnatural, but she hadn’t been prepared for how unnatural he would feel.

“Well.” He blinked and shook his head. “That was certainly—something.” He ran a gloved thumb across his mouth. “You are full of surprises,” he added after a moment, voice lower than before. Helena wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she just said the first thing that popped into her head. “Do you say that to every girl?” He huffed a laugh and ran his hand through his hair to brush it off his face. “No, I can’t say I do.”

He could read her mind. She couldn’t let this happen.

Helena stood, stunned with indignation. “You—you can’t do that.” His expression hardened and now he moved, finally, stalking her across the room. “Actually, I can. Have you forgotten? I own you.”

The shock on his face, as if he hadn’t realised what he was like until she’d told him.

Everything else was theatre now, a cover for a mission she was failing.

“What?” she snapped, glaring at him, sick of waiting for what he’d do next. He avoided her eyes, looking at the floor. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said. She gave a brittle laugh. “Well, I always expected you would.”

Your fault. You should have known. Ferron’s a monster. A born traitor, just like his father.

“You look awful,” he said as she came through the door. She stopped short. “You look worse.” He gave a strained laugh. “Do I?”

“Don’t die, Marino. I might miss you.”

“Fuck off,” she said. “I didn’t know you could swear.” He sounded amused.

“I hate you.” He gave a strained laugh. “I am aware.”

“What the fuck, Ferron?” “Ah, back to surnames, I see,” he said coolly. “That. Hurt,” she said through gritted teeth, touching her back gingerly, her resonance preventing the swelling before it could start.

His hair more silver every time she saw him. There was no hazel left in his eyes.

Touch him and she’d bleed, and yet she could not escape the allure of it.

Their eyes met, and a wave of bitterness swept across his face.

“Don’t die, Kaine,” she said. The line he walked frightened her. If the array was the punishment for a failure, what would the price of betrayal be? A smirk twisted his mouth as he looked at her. “There are far worse fates than dying, Marino.” She nodded. “I know. But that one you don’t come back from.” He gave a bitter laugh. “All right, then, but only because you asked.”

Ilva’s expression twisted bitterly. “It doesn’t serve the Holdfasts.” She looked away from Helena, jaw set. “Even in Orion’s own hands, it was hard and cold, never bestowing its power or favour upon anyone of the Holdfast line. There have been a few whom it would warm to, but it always went cold eventually. And you of all people had it. You could have done anything, and you healed Ferron with it.”

It was eerily still on the Outpost. The snow-heavy clouds had a dim silver glow from the moons. She’d always found the Outpost so ugly next to the elegant, natural lines of the islands’ architecture, but now she found the brutality of the towering steel, concrete walls, and jutting smokestacks fitting. She didn’t want to be somewhere beautiful.

“What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” She looked down quickly. His gaze was like a brand on the top of her head. “I just came because I was—worried about you.” He scoffed. “Since when have you worried about me?”

“I came because I wanted to see you.” She realised only as she said it that it was the truth. That was why she’d come. His throat dipped. “Why?” Her chest tightened. “I’m afraid that someday I’ll come, and you—you won’t be here.”

Her stomach clenched. Don’t trust me. Don’t trust the Eternal Flame. We’re all liars.

She frowned at him. “Why are you in such a good mood?” He quirked an eyebrow and stood, extending a hand to help her up. “Do you prefer me angry?”

Her smile fell, and she stared at him in horror. That bitterness in his eyes—she finally understood it. He had been waiting for her betrayal. This was what held him back.

But his eyes… She could tell— He was hers. The realisation broke her heart.

can’t—I can’t do this again—” he finally gasped out. “I can’t care for someone again. I can’t take it.”

“You want me to look at you?” His voice was light, almost cajoling, but there was fury beneath the surface. He leaned towards her. “Fine. I’m looking. I must say, it’s delightful, seeing all the guilt in your eyes.”

His hand came up, his gloved fingers wrapping around her throat, pulling her forward. “After all, I did choose you.”

“You are not replaceable,” he said, his hands trembling against her shoulders. “You are not required to make your death convenient. You are allowed to be important to people. The reason I’m here—the reason I’m doing any of this—is to keep you alive. To keep you safe. That was the deal.” He searched her face. “They didn’t tell you.” She shook her head, giving a broken sob and—before she let herself think—she kissed him.

“This was a mistake,” she said. “I shouldn’t have come here.” His throat dipped as he looked away. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “This won’t complicate anything for you. You wanted someone to be with, and I was available. I know it didn’t mean anything.”

She reached out, her fingers brushing back his hair. “Don’t worry. I’m always going to come back to you.”

She missed Kaine. Whenever she thought of him, she felt as though a piece of her was missing.

His eyes seemed to ripple with heat. “With you, I would.” She forced a smile. “Then we’ll go together. After the war.” She gripped his hand and pressed it against her chest, letting him feel her heartbeat. “When the war is over. We’ll run away somewhere no one knows us. We’ll disappear—forever.”

He was lying. They both were. It was daydream to think it possible.

You did this to him, she reminded herself whenever she was tempted to grow impatient with the ritual. You guessed where he was vulnerable and you exploited it.