I must have fallen asleep on the way back to the palace because I wake up hours later in an empty bed in my empty room. It's a couple of hours before dawn and the only sound is from the birds tweeting outside my window from the nearby treetops. I stretch my arms as I go into the bathroom, giving out a small yawn as I glimpse myself in the mirror.

Cain was right, I am paler. My skin is still a darker shade of olive but it's not the same colour as it was yesterday. My cheeks are not flushed pink, my bones feel frailer and easily breakable. My eyes are becoming a different shade of blue too, they were bright yesterday but now they are a strange combination of greenly-blue, as though Cain's colour is transferring into them.

And even though I've just slept most of the night, I'm exhausted. I wash my face in the sink and brush my teeth. When I emerge back into the bedroom, I open the tube of vitamin tablets and I take one down with a sip of water.

Arabella's death hits me when I take a seat in the corner. Cain was very conflicted about it, it was like he waited until the last second, until he had no choice. But he did. He did have a choice. He could have let her kill me, he could have let me go to the place I was supposed to, but he couldn't. He killed someone he had known for thousands of years to protect me. It makes me question just how far he's willing to go to consume his completed soul, to become the most powerful being in existence; though to me, he is already.

Will he still stand against the council when they return with questions about Arabella's disappearance? Will he lie or tell them what really happened? Do they even have the power to do anything about it?

I know that his blade can kill his species, but could it kill him? Or has he consumed too many completed souls to die, just like Saffron?

These questions spin around my mind for hours. I don't have the answers and I might be dead before I ever could. I start thinking about our time in the sky, how terrified I was, but how incredible it actually felt to be something other than human for a short time. I wonder if he's ever taken his other girls on a journey like that. Or any human. I place a finger to my lips as I remember our kiss on the beach. Everything about it was wrong, both of us knew we had crossed a line, just like the other morning against the window. Whatever I feel for him isn't real, it's a parasite imbedded into my blood, bleeding me dry of everything I've ever believed.

He is going to kill me. That is his purpose, that is his true nature. I tell myself that over and over, and even when I am completely convinced that I am back to being afraid of him, my body starts trembling at the thought of being close to him again.

Pathetic, I think to myself. My parents would be ashamed of me.

I've given up hope of fighting it. I've given up trying to work out what's real and what's not real. Arabella said that I had to die, that it was the only way. I know that, of course I know that, I just don't know what it actually means anymore.

My thoughts are distracted as I hear the door unlock. I begin to move towards the dining table instinctively, I have no energy to muster a smile for Christian, but I force it out. I am greeted with a running boy that bursts into the room and bolts around the table with wide arms. I am so shocked that I freeze for a second.

"Jackson," I say, holding him tightly to my stomach. "I thought you were coming tomorrow."

"They brought me early," he says. "I missed you so much."

I look over to the door and I see Christian smiling from the doorway. He places the breakfast trays on the table along with a mug of fresh coffee and two glasses of orange juice.

"Thank you," I say.

"I made sure he was safe, none of the guards have touched him," Christian says. "You have the whole day together but I've got to take him back to the slave quarters at six."

I nod. "Where is Cain?"

Christian's mouth slightly twitches as the mention of his name. "He's elsewhere, I'm not sure. You were right though, he does care. He rejected the guard's appeal to kill me. In fact, he told them not to touch me completely."

I smile. "Maybe that's just because you're a good chef."

"We both know it isn't," he says, his eyes lingering on mine with seriousness. "Be careful, some of the slaves are starting to notice."

"I will be. See you at lunch."

"Bye," he says, flicking his gaze to the boy in my arms. "Bye, Jackson."

Jackson doesn't say anything. He's too scared. Christian leaves the room and locks it. Jackson finally pulls himself away from me and I kneel down, glimpsing every inch of his face, checking for injuries or paleness. He looks in the same condition as the day I left him. His eyes are still a childish, smart brown, his hair is still light and fluffy, and the pimples across his cheeks are still sweet and innocent.

"Sit down," I say. "The food is amazing here; you're going to love it."

We both sit next to each other and I reach over to take off one of the covers, revealing a stack of blueberry pancakes with maple syrup. I start separating them between us, sliding the orange juice over to him as I pick up my coffee.

"I thought you were dead," he says quietly. "Raven told the creatures that you committed suicide. I did as the King said, I didn't tell anyone that you were still alive. I kept your secret."

"That was a big secret for you to shoulder," I whisper. "You're lucky he trusted you with it."

"What does the King want from me?" he says, his eyes going into the familiar panic mode. "I don't know how to be a slave, I don't know what I'm doing, what if I mess up? What if he gets angry at something that I do, or the guards-"?

"Hey, hey." I reach over and take his hand, soothing it as he looks at me with tears in his eyes. "Christian will train you; he'll show you everything and he'll be very patient. This is your first day here, the King doesn't expect you to know anything yet."

"Will I still be fed on?" he asks.

"No," I say immediately.

"I'm thirteen now, Aurora. I'm not a child anymore. Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," I say. "Cain." I swallow down his name. "The King, has promised that you won't be touched. You just can't tell any of the other slaves that, okay? It might not seem fair because you'll have to see things you shouldn't be seeing and you'll see the other slaves being hurt, but you have to promise me that you'll stay out of it and walk the other way."

"But-"

"Promise me, Jackson."

"I promise," he whispers, he turns his head and casts a curious glance around. "This is your room?"

"Yeah," I say, taking another sip of coffee. "I've been here for the last three weeks. Only here."

"Why?"

"Because I'm important to the King," I say. "It's hard to explain but the creatures aren't allowed near me."

"Oh," he mumbles, picking up his glass of juice. "I was there at the bidding."

"That's the process," I say. "How many souls did he bid?"

"One thousand."

I almost choke on my coffee, releasing it from my fingers tenderly. One thousand souls? Not all of them would have been human, but what if they were? All those innocent beings, traded for Jackson's chance to live. I wish I could feel bad about it but I can't. I just have to hope that Cain didn't choose souls that deserved to stay.

"Raven wasn't there, it was a new watcher," Jackson says. "So the King had to give the new watcher the souls despite him only owning me for merely hours. Arabella was pissed." He chuckles to himself.

"Language," I say.

"Sorry." He starts to become more comfortable, relaxing into the chair as he picks up his cutlery and begins cutting up his pancakes. "No one was expecting him to show up that day. I've never seen the creatures so panicked and terrified. Even the visiting creatures left the moment they heard of his arrival."

"Have you still been learning your Spanish?" I say. He shrugs dismissively. "Jackson."

"You were the only one that taught us that," he says. "Our new nanny just stuck us in front of these boring books about human biology. And then she'd do quizzes about heart valves and the stomach and weird things that we didn't care about."

I smile. "What about your math? Has she been continuing that?"

"Nope. She said it was pointless. That we didn't need math in today's world."

I sigh. She's right but she's also wrong.

"As a slave you will have to do inventory work," I say. "That means counting how many shipments of food and essential items need ordering for replacement. The girls that are owned by the King, their needs come first according to Christian. So if they tell you that they're running low on things like tampons or toilet rolls or even underwear then you need to mark down how many is needed for delivery."

He grimaces. "I have to do that?"

"Yes. You're not a kid anymore, remember?" I grin at him. "This is why math is important, why I always told you to pay attention."

"I think I can work it out, I'm good at math," he says proudly. "Will that impress them?"

I raise an eyebrow as I laugh. "You're smart but don't be arrogant. Eat up, we have a lot of lessons to get through today."

He groans loudly. "We've just been reunited after weeks apart, can't we do lessons another day?"

"Nope."

"Fine."

There is a lot to get through in a short space of time. I teach him about the open feeding that the children were not used to ever seeing at the nannery. In fact, I don't think Jackson has ever seen it. He recalls seeing something peculiar when he walked into the palace, a creature holding a girl on a couch while she whimpered in pain. I tell him that it will happen often and not to stare, I tell him to act invisible just like Christian does. To not react or try and intervene in anything that a creature says or does. And to follow every single order they give.

"I don't care how you make my food," I say. "But the other girls might. The pure souls are high maintenance and they expect their food to be cooked to perfection. It'll be unlikely that Christian will let you cook for them by yourself but there may come a day when he isn't there and one of them is hungry, so any chance that you can learn from Christian, take it."

He nods slowly. We're sitting on the couch next to the bathroom door, his gaze keeps moving over to the window with discomfort. "I remembered everything you taught me about cooking."

"Jackson, I taught you the literal basics," I say. "The King's girls eat fine dining food."

"What's fine dining?"

I sigh. "Something that existed before all of this. It's very complicated food that only Christian can perfect. The other slaves are not even close to his level but even their knowledge is greater than yours. Being a slave isn't just about serving the creatures, it's about serving their humans too. That might not exist outside the palace but it exists here."

He rubs his temple and I realize I've overwhelmed him. "There's so much to remember. I'm going to mess something up, I know I am."

"You'll be fine," I say. "Christian will give you a few easy jobs at first. Like, disposing of the trash cans in the girls' bedrooms and bathrooms, or washing some of their clothes and sheets in the tubs outside."

"Don't they do anything themselves?"

I smile widely as I shake my head. "I know it sucks but it's the way things work around here. They're the ones that are slowly dying, right?"

"I guess," he says. "Does that mean that you are too?"

I swallow, leaning back into the armrest. "No one is owned by the King for no reason. But I'm okay, I promise. As long as you're okay then I'm happy."

The door knocks, it's lunchtime. A slave I have never seen or met before walks through with the lunch trays. He is very tall, with slim muscles and a shaven head. I rise up from the couch, telling Jackson to stay.

"Who are you?" I ask. "Where is Christian?"

The slave ignores me and closes the door. He stays in front of it, like he's guarding it. Is he protecting it from someone coming in or from me getting out?

"Christian is indisposed," he says. "He asked me to bring your lunch."

"You're lying."

The slave moves his attention to Jackson, who is staring back silently from the couch. "I saw him bring the slave boy here, thought it was a little peculiar. Why do those close to you seem to get the ultimate protection?" He starts circling around the table and I move further around it, but he's getting closer to Jackson.

"What have you done to Christian?" I whisper.

"He'll wake up soon, he'll have a rotten headache but he'll be okay. Just like the boy. While we suffer."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say.

"The hell you don't!" he yells, charging around the table. I don't make it around in time before he's gripping my wrists and pushing me back into the wall. I see Jackson move in the corner of my eye.

"Jackson, sit down!" I yell. "Do not move."

"Yeah, stay there, kid," the slave says, looking over my face. "Wouldn't want you to get mysteriously suffocated in your sleep."

I gasp.

"You're going to work that magic of yours on the King for me," the slave says. "You're going to tell him to tell all the guards to leave me the hell alone. No more touching, no more feeding and no more beatings. I want protection like your little friends. There's speculation among the humans that you're a completed soul, and if that's true then you have the King in the palm of your hand. I want that protection or that kid over there dies, tonight."

"Do not threaten him," I hiss, stepping forwards angrily. The slave holds his arm horizontal and pushes it against my throat.

"Do you think I want to do it?" he demands. "Do you think I want to be this way? You get a bright, shiny afterlife when you die but we get nothing! I am not ready to die and if you are the key to saving us then I won't be the last to use something you love against you to be free."

"I'm not the key to saving you," I say. "I have no power here. I am a prisoner to this palace just like you. Look at him, look how terrified he is." The slave glances over at Jackson who has tears in his eyes as he watches us.

"Please don't hurt her," Jackson begs.

"He's just a kid," I say. "He's only protected because the King wants to give him a chance to adapt."

"And Christian?" the slave growls. "The guards won't even look at him."

"The King likes the way he cooks for his girls, he's valuable because of his skills. I promise you it is nothing to do with me. And if I tried to tell the King to spare you, he would only grow angry that you were here convincing me to. He will kill you himself."

"So you're trying to save me, are you?" he says with a smirk. "I'm still not convinced that you don't have that power."

"Would you really harm an innocent child just to prove a point? We're supposed to be human; we're supposed to look after each other. If I had the power to help you or any other slaves then I would but I don't." That is the truth. I don't. Cain already knows who matters to me, he probably dreams of them. The second I tell him of this slave, he'll be dead.

The slave withdraws his arm and bites down on his teeth with a sigh. The door swings open as Christian bursts in, breathless and dizzy as the side of his head bleeds.

"I'm sorry," the slave whispers. "I'm so sorry." He turns and throws Christian's key on the table before running out of the open door.

"Are you okay?" Christian says. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine," I say, rushing over to the door to close it. I guide him over to a chair. "Sit down. Stay there." I search the shelves for the medical kit, I open it and I dab a small cotton bud into a glass of water, bringing it to his wound. Jackson stands close to me as he watches. "This is going to sting."

"Nothing stings anymore," he mutters. "I knew this would happen. I could see the way they were watching me, discussing me, and bringing the kid up here was the last straw."

"I don't think it needs to be stitched," I say as I observe the wound. "You'll live."

"Great," he mutters sarcastically.

I smile, placing a clear plaster over his wound. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"I'm not concussed, I'm fine."

"How many?" I repeat.

"Four," he whispers, dropping his gaze angrily. "He hit me with a blender. A blender. Who even uses that as a weapon? He's lucky I didn't go straight to the King."

"He's just scared," I say. "Fear makes people desperate. Unless Jackson's life is in danger then I don't want Cain to know."

"I won't leave his side, Aurora," Christian says. "And I'm a very light sleeper. There's no way Hector will be catching me off guard again."

"Hector is his name?"

Christian nods. "If I even get wind of anything happening to the boy then I will alert the guards immediately. I'll keep him safe."

I turn to Jackson, he stares into my eyes with such terror that I hold my arms out. "Come here." He slides into my arms and I cradle his head gently. "I'm sorry you had to see that on your first day."

"I won't let anyone hurt you," Christian says to him. "You have to trust me, okay?"

I nudge Christian's shoulder and he nods his head. He's traumatized and I don't know how to comfort him. He thinks he's going to be smothered in his sleep.

"Can I lay down for a while?" Jackson asks.

"Yeah, you can use my bed," I say.

"Thanks."

Jackson walks over my bed, not saying another word as he curls up beneath the covers. I flick my head to Christian, motioning for him to join me at the couch across the room. We both reach it at the same time.

"Is he safe here?" I whisper. "I brought him here so he wouldn't be in danger and he's been threatened on his first day. Hector said he was going to suffocate him in his sleep."

"Like you said, that's just fear talking," he says. "He wouldn't actually do it, he was just trying to use him against you because he knew he could. Bella talks to the slaves a lot; she likes to plant ideas in their heads. She probably convinced him that you were the King's new obsession and then he started adding everything up."

"Keep Jackson away from her," I say.

He nods. "I'll try. You really love that boy, don't you?"

"I've raised him since he was six," I say. "I've taught him almost everything he knows. He doesn't really remember his parents or his life before. I'm as close to a mother as he's ever going to have."

"And you have the mother instinct," Christian comments. "A bond like that is careless to have in a world like this."

"You call it careless. I call it hope."

"You're a fool if you think there's a difference."

I smile. "Then I'm a fool."

"So what happened in the King's office?" he asks suddenly. "You were gone the entire day so it must have been quite the experience."

I think about how to answer that. I trust Christian but there's still some parts of myself I don't want to reveal to him, mainly because I'm still figuring it all out. "Nothing. We just went outside for a while."

"Hm." He stares at me curiously.

I laugh as I look back to him. "What?"