Suddenly, a bitter taste grew in her mouth. She heard Kohl’s voice pounding in her head, telling her what to do—

She stood, grabbed the bottle, and threw it. Glass shattered on the street below, brown liquid spilling everywhere. She wanted to scream, but there was no one to listen.

Kohl had kicked her out of the only home she’d ever known, taken every kor she’d earned, threatened her, and left her to die. All the while, he’d told her it was best for her. He’d told her what she needed to do, who she needed to become, how to save herself, and in the end, he abandoned her anyway. When they were close, she’d aimed to be exactly like him, had thought no other person in the world could compare to him, and had found herself drawn to the side of him that praised, cherished, and protected her despite her faults. He’d constantly clung to the back of her mind, so that escape seemed a myth and the only option was to remain close and never disappoint him.

When love was the last thing given on Kosín’s streets, it was hard to tell the real thing from something toxic. Maybe she’d clung to his version of love, telling herself it was good for her—after all, it was far better than her life on the streets—when in reality it only ate her alive. It drew her in, telling her she was nothing without it. Like the glue, her addiction to Kohl was dangerous, a tightrope she balanced on in swift wind, a call to darkness masquerading as a lullaby.

Ryuu’s voice broke through her clouded thoughts: Fear itself was worse than the thing I feared.

Killing Kouta, completing this job, opening her own tradehouse … that wasn’t what she needed.

No, she needed to cut Kohl off. Unchain herself from him and the fear he stirred in her veins.

She stumbled down the roof, her hands numb on the rusted metal surface, then made her way back to the Dom. The cold breeze passing through narrow streets cleared her mind a little as she walked.

A block away from the Dom, where the stench of the Minos River grew strong, she remembered a night two years ago when a target had fought back and nearly killed her. She’d slit his throat, but barely escaped with her life. Bleeding, she’d returned to the Dom and passed out on the floor in Kohl’s office.

When she’d woken up, her wounds were bandaged, and his arms held her upright. If she could go back to that night and—

What?

Kiss him? Yell at him?

Stab him, she decided, and picked up the pace.

The Dom stood tall, the willow trees shadowing the entrance as she approached under the soft silver and red of the waning moons. Candlelight shone between the bars on the upper windows.

Ten feet away from the door, she slowed to a stop. They already knew she was here. There was no point in hiding. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the night were the wind and her rapid pulse.