Unsinkable

A Bird in a Cage

Black ringlets fell over dark shoulders, cascading like rain from the sky as Winter released her hair from its knot. She winced as she fruitlessly tried to untangle the frizzed tangles. Somehow she managed to separate her hair into three sections and began to brain the locks messily down her back. When she was done, she tied the braid off with a small pink ribbon, pulling it tight over the remaining strands of hair.

She pulled the braid over her shoulder and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were wide and dark and tired, and the scars that lined her cheek seemed more prominent than ever— a constant reminder of Levana and her fear tactics. She loathed the scars for what they had caused her father to do, but wore them without fear, knowing that no longer could Levana torment Evret Hayle.

But while she could not hurt Winter's father any longer, Winter had been left barer than ever— exposed to the cruelty of Levana Blackburn.

Winter released a sigh, sagging until her elbows dipped to touch her vanity table and her warm cheeks rested in her palms. She was completely and utterly exhausted in every way imaginable. From her lack of sleep the night before to her conversation with Jacin and inability to talk to Cinder, Winter felt alone in the world.

Of course, everything had felt empty in the time since her father's death. His absence in her life had nearly destroyed her, especially when accompanied by her engagement to Aimery Park only a week after his funeral. The only light had been Cinder coming to visit, and then stay— but things would change once they got to America. Winter would marry, and then who knew what would become of her? It would just be Mr. and Mrs. Park and Levana forever, with the first and third always tormenting the second. It was death while still breathing. No; it was a fate worse than death. But it was Winter's fate.

The door to Winter's room opened abruptly, and Winter hastened to draw her black silken robe over her night clothes. She threw her braid back over her shoulder and stood as Aimery approached her.

"Aimery," Winter choked on the name, not entirely surprised to see him, but not welcome to it all the same. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't come to dinner, snowflake," Aimery stated bluntly, flicking a piece of lint from the collar of his suit. "Is a man not welcome to visit his beautiful fiancée? Or are only the street scum allowed to behold her these days?"

Winter's heart skipped a beat, but she folded her arms over her chest defensively. "You are the one who invited him to dinner last night, not I–"

"You know that is not what I'm speaking of," Aimery shouted, slamming his palm flat against Winter's vanity table. A bottle of perfume toppled over. "I saw the two of you out there, looking into each other's eyes and staring out at the sea. You think you can stumble around with another man behind my back? Artist American Hobo Guy is your new lover? Well I've got news for you."

Winter let out a little gasp as Aimery leaned in, his gaze ferocious and his teeth bared. His eyes, which were black in shade always, had taken on a sort of empty look that made them bottomless and cruel.

"I will not tolerate any such thing. Not from my soon-to-be wife," Aimery's voice dropped to a growl. "And if I hear one more whisper of disloyalty from you, there will be major consequences to deal with, do you hear me?"

Tears stung at Winter's eyes, but she bit her lip and choked them back as she nodded at Aimery. He eased away from her, his warm breath still lingering in the air surrounding her along with the atmosphere of danger.

"Good," Aimery sighed, though it was more in the way a teenager would at their kid sibling. "I'm glad we got that settled. Goodnight then, my snowflake."