Chapter 5: A Toast to Betrayal

Until Cross came to talk, shattering my peace.

He had a knack for ruining things, for reminding me of everything I stood to lose.

Cross had eyes everywhere. He knew Eli was protecting me.

Nothing escaped him. I should’ve known better than to think I could keep anything secret.

He said Eli must have an ulterior motive.

He always did—projecting his own paranoia onto everyone else.

"Autumn, this man can’t be trusted. Keeping him around is a risk."

He leaned in close, his voice low and dangerous. I tried not to flinch.

In the octagonal gazebo at the Cross estate, Cross’s mask slipped as he closed in on me. "A good strategist should be rational, not swayed by emotion."

He was right, in his own twisted way. But I was tired of being rational.

Then he grabbed my wrist, shoved a vial of poison into my hand, pressed his forehead to mine, and whispered like a snake, "Autumn, get rid of him."

His breath was hot on my skin, his words a death sentence. I fought the urge to recoil.

We were so close, our breaths mingling. His whole presence was suffocating, his expensive cologne out of place.

The scent made my stomach turn. I wanted to shove him away, but I held still.

"Autumn, the Mayor’s house is loyal to me," he said, fingers icy as they traced my face, lifting my chin, eyes cold and commanding. "You should be the same."

He wanted obedience, not love. I wanted neither.

I clenched the vial, forced a smile. "So the Governor wants me to prove my loyalty with my own hands?"

I kept my voice steady, refusing to let him see how much he scared me.

He narrowed his eyes. "If you can’t do it, I’ll help you."

The threat was clear. I knew he meant it.

"No need." I brushed off his hand, staring at the vial. "He’s just a shadow. Wait and see—I’ll do as you wish."

I lied as easily as breathing. It was the only way to survive.

My quick agreement surprised him. He stared at me, searching for a crack.

I kept my face blank, daring him to call my bluff.

A shadow flitted through the garden—I glanced over and pushed Cross away.

My heart pounded, but I didn’t let it show. I needed to keep him off balance.

He just leaned on the railing, lips curled in a cold smile. "Very good, Autumn. Don’t disappoint me."

He always wanted the last word. I let him have it.

He was insane.

But he should know I was never one to be threatened.

That night, I invited Eli to the house outside the city.

I set the table myself, hands shaking. I wondered if he’d notice.

Archers hid on the walls—Cross said if I couldn’t do it, they would.

I hated the feeling of being watched, but I tried to ignore it.

Eli seemed to sense something. He hesitated at the gate, then walked in without looking back.

He was braver than I deserved. I wanted to warn him, but I couldn’t.

A small feast was set in the backyard, red lanterns glowing in the trees.

The light was warm, inviting. I tried to pretend it was just another night.

I quietly poured Eli whiskey, but before I could stop him, he grabbed the glass and drank it all.

He didn’t even flinch at the burn. I wondered if he knew what I was planning.

I stared at him, stunned.

He looked back, eyes unreadable. I couldn’t tell if he was angry, scared, or something else entirely.

The strong liquor made him cough, his pale face turning red.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to hide his discomfort.

He grabbed the glass bottle from my hand, eyes misty, looking like a bullied puppy.

It was the first time I’d seen him look so vulnerable. My heart twisted.

He kept drinking, saying little, but every word sounded like a farewell.

I wanted to stop him, but I didn’t know how. The words caught in my throat.

I couldn’t help thinking—maybe he knew.

He always did. He was too smart for his own good.

Soon he was drunk, head on the table, struggling to look at me. "Autumn."

His voice was thick with longing, with regret. I wanted to reach out, but I was afraid.

His voice was full of longing. Then he sighed. "Has the poison started working?"

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I couldn’t breathe.

The words hit me like thunder. He knew… he knew everything.

I wanted to deny it, but the truth was written all over my face.

Eli’s cheeks were flushed, eyes half-closed, his usual rigidity replaced by a low, seductive voice.

He was beautiful, even in pain. I wanted to hold him, to tell him everything would be okay.

"I know you had no choice. I won’t make it hard for you." He struggled to his feet, leaning on the table, eyes hazy. "If I’m dying… can I hold you, just once?"

His words broke me. I couldn’t say no, but I couldn’t say yes, either.

Even now, he asked for permission.

He was always so careful, so respectful. It made me love him even more.

In that moment, the ice in my heart began to melt. I looked up at his blurry eyes and suddenly burst into tears, laughing.

The tears came fast, hot and unstoppable. I laughed, because if I didn’t, I’d never stop crying.

How could anyone be so foolish?

He was risking everything for me, and I didn’t deserve it.

Eli frowned, at a loss, squatting in front of me, hand raised to wipe my tears but unable to cross the line.

He hovered, torn between wanting to comfort me and respecting my boundaries.

His eyes were full of pain. "Don’t cry."

His voice was so gentle, so full of love. I wanted to believe him.

Then he slumped at the base of the picnic table, face turned away, hand on his forehead.

He looked defeated, broken. I wanted to reach out, but I was afraid.

After a moment, he whispered, "If I die, don’t cry."

The words were soft, but they cut deep. I shook my head, refusing to accept it.

The lanterns cast a red glow around him, his profile sharp, lashes trembling, throat working.

He looked like a fallen angel, beautiful and tragic.

He must have thought he was done for.

He was ready to die for me, and I couldn’t let that happen.

He was only nineteen—nineteen, facing life and death. He shouldn’t have had to bear this.

He was just a boy, but the world had made him old before his time.

I slid over beside him, nudged him with my elbow, and told the truth. "Eli, there’s no poison in the whiskey."

The relief on his face was immediate, but he didn’t let himself believe it right away.

Just strong liquor.

I tried to smile, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

His ears perked up, disbelief on his face, lips trembling, drunkenness fading.

He looked at me like he wanted to believe, but couldn’t quite trust it.

"Cross wants you gone—because of me."

I said it plainly, refusing to hide anymore.

He asked, voice shaking, "Why?"

His voice was barely more than a whisper, but I heard the hope in it.

I didn’t hesitate. "He saw that I care about you."

The words hung in the air, heavy and electric. I couldn’t take them back.

In that moment, Eli looked shattered, eyes going wide. "What did you say?"

He stared at me, waiting, afraid to hope.

"I said, Eli." I cupped his burning face, tears in my eyes. "I care about you."

I let myself be vulnerable, just this once. I hoped it was enough.

Cross’s threats had forced my hand: I had to make my feelings clear—I would protect Eli.

I was done hiding, done pretending I didn’t care.

"And Cross…"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what came next.

"From now on, we’ll face a storm together," I said seriously. "Eli, I’ll be counting on you."

I looked him in the eye, daring him to refuse.

He still seemed dazed, but managed a deep, steady, "Okay."

His voice was stronger now, more certain. I knew I could trust him.

"Don’t worry."

He squeezed my hand, a silent promise.

I leaned into him, repeating, "Eli, don’t let me down."

I needed to hear him say it, needed to believe it.

I’d truly fallen for him, and I hoped he felt the same.

For the first time in a long time, I let myself hope.

Eli pulled me close, chin resting on my head, voice rough. "I won’t let you down."

His words were a balm, soothing the ache in my chest.

I smiled, grim. "Don’t worry about tonight—the men outside have been dealt with."

I’d planned ahead, just in case. I wasn’t as helpless as I seemed.

The network I’d built in the city finally came in handy.

I was proud of what I’d accomplished, even if it cost me everything else.

The next morning, my dad summoned me home.

His message was terse, urgent. I knew what was coming.