I stood in the middle of the cabin and looked at the fireplace.
The stonework wasn’t cold, gray, and dark. The inside of the cabin wasn’t partially illuminated by the limited light from outside the windows. It was bright and warm, a roaring fire burning in the fireplace, waiting for me. The room was cozy, like it’d been burning for a while.
Like it’d been set up just for me.
When the boss left the camp, nothing changed. He still had dominion over the place, even in his absence. There was no Red Snow that night. My sister was spared—but not because of me.
When he returned and heard the events that transpired, would he execute her?
If he really wanted me, he knew he would have no chance if killing her was his decision.
A blizzard came into the camp, a powerful wind that blew a storm of snow that blanketed the grounds with small mountains that were impossible to circumvent. It was impossible to work in the conditions, so we remained in our cabins until the worst had passed.
When it did, we were handed shovels and told to get to work.
We were spread out everywhere, digging into the snow and carrying the powder to the edge of the clearing. I copied what the other girls did, but I’d never held a shovel in my life. It was heavy and cold, even through my gloves, and my entire back was sore from the work. I was used to sitting in the clearing and doing processing tasks with my hands, not real work like this.
“Like this.” Raven appeared beside me and shoved the shovel into the snow, stepped on it with her foot, and then scooped up a pile of powder.
I slowly straightened as I examined her, looking at her neck in the small opening between the metal of her zipper. There were hints of redness, but the bruising had disappeared considerably.
She held my look for a moment before she moved. “Keep working, Melanie.”
I gripped the shovel hard because all I wanted to do was hug my big sister. I wanted to apologize a million times, to tell her I wished it had been me instead of her. But there were guards everywhere, and we were never allowed to be near each other except for a random occasion such as this.
I did as she taught me and scooped up a pile of snow.
We walked together to the edge.
I threw the snow onto the growing pile. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She spat out the answer like it was an automatic response. Even if she wasn’t fine, she would never admit it—not even to herself. “What about you?” She turned her head to look at me, her brown hair pulled back in a bun, her blue eyes fathomless pools of pain that reached deeper than the deepest ocean.
The boss immediately popped into my mind, the man who’d taken one look at me before he’d claimed me for himself. My new residence was an upgrade compared to the old one, but without company, I spent my time in solitude—and that was a lonely experience. Maybe he did that on purpose, so I would actually look forward to his visits. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Four
Chéri
Fender
Nightfall.
I entered the camp with my men on either side of me. Torches lit the pathways through the cabins. A storm had passed over the Alps and blasted the setup, but it’d been shoveled back to its original form. My eyes scanned as I moved, making sure the place was run to my expectations. It was quiet after a long day of work, the girls locked in their cabins, the drugs safely stored in the guards’ cabin.
I gave no warning of my visits. There were days when I left, only to return the very next evening, just to remind my guards that this was my camp—not theirs. Their lives were just as expendable as a pig on a goddamn farm.
One of my men led my horse by the reins, while the other carried my bag as I was escorted to my quarters.
I halted in the clearing and turned my attention to the little cabin in the north, where a glimpse of the firelight was visible through the frosted window. I redirected my route to her cabin. “My dinner will be served here.”
Silently, the men attended to my horse and carried my belongings to my residence.
My boots crunched against the packed snow as I passed through the light of the torches, my eyes focused on the front door of the little cabin. A shadow emerged from the right, but I continued my pace without bothering with a glance.
“There was no Red Snow. Magnus stopped it.” It was the executioner, in the guard’s uniform, his face visible because the women were locked away in their cabins.
I stopped in my tracks, but my eyes remained on my target. “There’s nothing that happens in this camp that I’m unaware of.” I turned my head to stare him down, to dismiss him from my presence. “You should know that by now.”