white dawn (Black Tiger Series Book 3)

by Sara Baysinger

  Strong, conflicting emotions well in my chest. Relief that someone was kind enough to spend so much time with an isolated child. Jealousy that it was my own mother. But my anger has been directed at the wrong person this whole time. Aurora didn’t demand Mother’s presence. She couldn’t have as an infant. Chief Aden did, and after him, Titus. And while I’m pissed that they took my mother, I’m beginning to understand that Aurora needed her more than I did.

  “When I turned five, her visits were shorter,” Aurora is saying. “Instead of being there when I woke and fell asleep, she was there only eight hours a day. I would wake up and anticipate her presence. I would dread the moment she would leave. But Defenders would arrive at four o’clock every afternoon and make sure she left without any trouble and that I didn’t go with her. A maid would arrive to put me to bed. That was a traumatic time. So many tears were shed at bedtime. So many nightmares filled my mind after I was asleep. But I somehow managed to grow out of that, and I tried to soak up the little time I had with her while she was there.” She releases a shuddering sigh. “My life was pretty mundane. Krin taught me all things a royal should know, everything Father instructed her to teach me.”

  “Did you ever see your father?” She must have, if she poisoned him.

  “He visited on my birthday. He visited on other occasions. When he was in a drunken rage, he would take his anger out on me.”

  I wince. This is hitting too close to home.

  “I looked a lot like Mother, he used to say. When I turned thirteen, he died. Krin was allowed to come and go as she pleased after that, and she started teaching me things Father would never approve of.”

  I smirk. “Like what?”

  “Oh. That we needed to help the people of Ky. Resources needed to be evenly distributed.” She glances at me. “That the Resurgence might actually want to help this country, not burn it down.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Totally did not expect that from my mother, of all people. But if she told you those things, why were you still against the Resurgence? Why did you still hate Ember?”

  “When Titus learned she was telling me these things, I guess he felt like he had to instill Father’s lessons back into me. He told me the Resurgence wanted to kill me, so, naturally, when you guys kidnapped me, his theories were proven true. He also told me the Resurgence took Gideon, so you guys had that against you.”

  “And Ember? What’d she ever do to make you hate her?”

  “Apart from being the one to kidnap me?”

  I snort. She has a point.

  “Not to mention her records weren’t very clean while she was in Frankfort. Titus had good reason to believe she was with the Resurgence, based on the prison escape and Walker visiting her in the hotel. And since I was convinced the Resurgence took Gideon, and I was sure she was working with them, I wasn’t sure about her.” She releases a sigh. “But, honestly, I never actually hated her. From the moment I saw her in the prison pit from my surveillance cameras, I wanted to meet her. I wanted to ask her the millions of questions that had been burning in my mind since I learned she existed. I wanted to believe Krin when she said the Resurgence only wanted to help, and I wanted to meet Ember and see if it was true. But Titus wouldn’t let me. He had me under extra protection…until Ember went home. Then I was to pose as her. I’m not going to lie. I knew it was wrong to pretend to be her, but you have to understand, Rain, I’d never had any freedom outside of that room, and I was dying to get out.”

  A fist forms in my stomach, but I empathize. Being locked in that luxurious room for only a month after Ember’s death was hard. Confining. I was close to giving up. So imagining someone living like that for sixteen years…I shake my head. It’s incomprehensible. Doesn’t matter how plush her conditions might have been, prison is prison, and it sucks.

  And for the first time, I release my anger at losing my mother for Aurora. While I had LeighAnn and Forest and James and a host of other people I looked up to, Aurora only had her abusive father and manipulative brother. My mother might possibly have been the only voice of reason Aurora ever heard in her life. My mother might be the reason Aurora is somewhat normal despite her horrible, isolated childhood.

  I get it now. I so get it. I cognitively pat my childhood on the head, tell the younger version of Rain to get over it.

  But there’s something else off about this whole conversation…

  “I can understand a little where you’re coming from,” I begin, “but I still can’t understand how, after everything Titus has done to you, you’re not jumping at the chance to execute him? He gave me Gideon’s information. Why didn’t you kill him after that?”

  She swallows hard and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Titus…wasn’t always like this. Before Father died, it was me and Titus against the world. When we were older, if Titus knew Father was visiting me, he would step in and take the beating for me. Father’s rare visits were unpleasant, while Titus made a point to visit me every single day before he was chief. He’d catch me up on the drama. We’d play chess and watch movies together. While Krin was like my mother, he was like my best friend.”

  Memories come back to me. I remember Titus being that sort of friend to Forest back when they were children. I would tag along with Forest when he came to visit the mansion. Titus was certainly more carefree, more laid back, although still incredibly spoiled and rude. I shake my head. How he managed to keep the secret of his sister even from Forest is shocking. It makes me wonder if he was just a little demented even before he became chief. After Chief Aden died, Titus was certainly less approachable, more standoffish. If I didn’t like him when we were kids, I hated him once he became chief.

  “When he made me sleep with him,” Aurora whispers. “That’s when my switch flipped.”

  The shock of her words makes me stop in my tracks. “Wait, what? He made you sleep with him?”

  Blood rushes to her cheeks, and then she looks away, humiliated. “Yes.”

  “Holy Crawford. What the hell? He’s dead. I’m going to kill him.” I look away from her, my hands balling into fists when another realization hits me. “Wait.” I look sharply at her again. “Does that mean…Gideon? Is he Titus’s…is this why Titus made you…?” I can’t even push the rest of the words out. It’s too horrible, this terrible thing Titus did to his own sister.

  She swallows hard, still stares at the ground like she regrets telling me anything. Like letting this information slide is going to make me disgusted with her. And guilt clenches my stomach, because I would have totally used this against her weeks ago. I would have assumed her a willing victim in Titus's games, assumed their relationship was mutual.

  My anger absolves in regret that I made Aurora feel this way around me. I reach out, gently tip her chin up. “Aurora.” My voice comes out in a husky whisper. “What Titus did to you…it wasn’t your fault. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Understand? Titus is a sick, sick bastard. Don’t let his action weigh on your conscience.”

  She lifts her eyes to mine, and there’s no mistaking the surprise and relief I find there. I release her. I want to pull her into a hug, but resist. I’m not sure if she fully trusts me. I’m not sure if hugging someone who has been violated is the considerate thing to do. So I shove my trembling hands into my pockets, and she resumes talking as we start on our journey again. But, man. I didn’t know I could possibly hate Titus more than I already did.

  “I didn’t trust him after that, obviously,” she says slowly. “I never looked forward to his visits. I loathed his presence. He visited less, only a couple times a week. And then he put Krin on a tight schedule just like Father did. I was mad at him for that, but he acted like my anger was misplaced. He said things like how he used to protect me from father’s beatings, and how he was protecting me from the Resurgence, how he’s given me everything I ever wanted, and how I basically owed him my life.”

  Unbelievable. I knew Titus was a careless jackal to those he nev
er met. But to his own sister…it makes perfect sense now why he pulled the gun on Forest so quickly. He’s a shoddy psychopath.

  “I guess I never could kill him because a part of me still cares a little.” She looks at me, uncertain. “I’m still looking for that boy I was best friends with, who I used to laugh with, who was my one source of company apart from Krin.”

  I swallow down my bitterness. “That boy is gone, Aurora. If he wasn’t before, he certainly is now. He violated you. He killed his best friend and his sister within minutes of each other. He nearly killed you—if Ember hadn’t gotten in the way…. How can you hope for any good in him? How could you even want to be friends with someone who has done all those things?” I shake my head and look down the road. “I understand he was manipulative. I get that he filled your head with lies and that it’s hard for your brain to change quickly enough with what’s changing outside your mind. But I know there’s a part of you that sees reality. Trust that voice. As long as you let Titus live, you’re letting him control your mind. You’re allowing him to manipulate you. I saw the way you sat on your throne at the party, the way people looked at you. I heard the belittling things they were saying, and I saw the way their judgment didn’t even put a dent in your armor. Likewise, the way you moved the crowds while we were distributing the antitoxin was incredible. You were strong and fearless and a true leader.”

  She looks down.

  “But I also saw a major change in you when you were in the same room as Titus. I noticed you weren’t nearly as confident. I noticed how every word Titus said to you in that interrogation room struck a nerve and made you weaker. He knows how to get to you. He knows how to get inside your head. I get it now. I get how you were blinded by him. But I think—I think it’s time for you to let go of who he used to be. Young Titus has been MIA for years. He’s gone, Aurora. That Titus would never try to kill you, and this Titus has. It’s time to stop letting him hold you back. It’s time to move on.”

  She says nothing. She doesn’t look at me or anything, and I begin wonder if I pushed too hard. With everything Aurora has been through, she’s in a delicate state, and rightly so. I just hope that what I said didn’t completely backfire and make her decide to execute me instead of Titus as soon as we return to Frankfort.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  AURORA

  We walk for another hour. Another hour that I chew on everything Rain just suggested. Obviously he wants Titus dead, but what’s surprising is how he thinks I will be better off with Titus’s absence. I always thought that if something happened to Titus, I would be lost. But now I’m beginning to wonder if Rain is right. I’m beginning to wonder if Titus is actually holding me back, and if I’ll be able to lead better without his daunting presence sitting at the back of my mind. Just his name makes every muscle in my body tense. Seeing his face in my mind’s eye is enough to make my stomach clench so tightly, it threatens to regurgitate its contents.

  I’ve always felt repulsed by Titus’s presence after what he did. But with Krin’s help, I was able to build walls to protect myself during the two years after he violated me. My armor was strong, my emotions carefully protected, while I was locked in that room. But since I’ve been released and haven’t been forced to face Titus on a regular basis, it’s been getting harder and harder to think of him. He’s a part of my past now, not my present. He’s a part of a dark memory that I’m trying so hard to bury. But it’s impossible to bury this pain when he’s always there, always sitting at the back of my mind like a buzzing mosquito just waiting to strike.

  As we travel, I notice a subtle change in Rain. Like he’s going out of his way to make me believe what he told me by the stream—that he doesn’t want to kill me. No more snide remarks. No more sarcasm. No more walls. I want to believe he’s being sincere, but I can’t fully feed into his claims. There’s still a lingering doubt, a nagging voice telling me this is how Titus worked—cruelty followed by sweet apologies and empty promises. I appreciate Rain’s camaraderie. I appreciate his belief in me as a leader. I soak in his humor and his friendship, as does Chale. But I’m still watching my back, waiting for him to turn on me like a rabid dog.

  We stop in the town square for more water. Chale mentions taking just one meal from the bartender, but I tell him no. We have plenty of food in Frankfort, and until I get things under control, we’re not taking food from the Proletariats.

  We arrive at Ember’s cabin at sunset. Unbelievable how we wasted an entire day traveling. But, thankfully, the Patricians warned us about the blocked gates. When we arrive, I’m fatigued and dizzy from lack of food. I settle on the floor, open my bottle, and take a long drink. Cool water splashes onto my tongue and flows into my body, and I melt. If it was later in summer, we could find food in the Community Garden. But it’s still too early for any food to be produced. I think back on my lessons of the Garden, what Titus bothered teaching me, anyway.

  “I think there’s a dairy farm down the road,” I say. “And down from there are chickens, which means eggs.”

  “Holy Crawford, I would give my right arm for a fried egg right now,” Rain says.

  “Me too. We’ll head there first thing.”

  “Nah. I’m gonna go tonight and get some,” Rain says. “I’m starving.”

  I nod.

  “Why take eggs from one family, but not take a dinner from another?” Chale asks.

  “Because the dinners are the only things the Proletariats are allowed to eat,” Rain explains. “The gardeners are instructed to send all their fresh food straight to Frankfort, where it’s either distributed throughout Ky as boxed meals, or served at our glorious Patrician feasts.”

  A look of unease crosses Chale’s features when he looks at me. “Please tell me this is on your list of things to fix.”

  “Of course it is,” I say, guilt easing into me. “I was going to attempt to fix the food issue before clearing everyone’s minds, but Rain here couldn’t wait.”

  “Priorities, Chief,” Rain sings.

  “After those two issues have a solution, I plan to correct the career issue, the housing issues…” I heave out a sigh. “There are a lot of issues the Proletariats don’t know about that need correcting.”

  Chale nods. “You’re doing a good job, Chief Aurora. I’m honored to be a part of the journey.” He smiles, and his smile melts over my heart like butter. Yes, Chale will absolutely be promoted. Maybe I’ll just keep him as my bodyguard indefinitely. I wouldn’t mind having him around all the time. He’s quiet and respectful and loyal while also real and humorous. He’s kind of like what I imagine a good father being.

  “Well, while you two have your chief-bodyguard bonding time, I’m going to go grab those eggs and some milk, and see if Mr. Carter had any extra food stored up in the barn. I don’t think it got burned down.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and walks out.

  Chale stands by the window and keeps a lookout.

  I can’t believe we wasted a whole day of traveling. It wouldn’t be so horrible, if we had enough food to keep us energized. It wouldn’t be so bad if Mcallister and Jonah weren’t waiting for us to come home and calm down the Patricians. It wouldn’t be so awful if we weren’t on the run from the people who want me dead.

  I stand and step beside Chale, rest my forearms on the windowsill. It’s not raining, but the air smells fresh. The sky has darkened and the moon is still partly full, so I can see what is left of the orchard. The sound of young frogs fills the air. I imagine Ember looking out this same window at the orchard before it was burned to the ground. I imagine the trees full and leafy, the moonbeams bouncing off the apples that dot the trees. I try to imagine her life before Career Day—before she knew about Patrician blood and that she was related to the chief. It’s hard to believe my own twin lived such a simple life. It’s difficult to imagine her hungry, living day to day, hoping the rations came in on time at the end of each month. It was the simplicity of her life that made her spirit so pu
re.

  Above, the sky looks like someone smeared black paint all over a canvas and then threw glitter on it. Titus never let me out at night, and even after I was released, the light pollution of Frankfort kept the stars distant and invisible. But out here in the countryside, I almost feel like I’m floating somewhere in space. The stars are so much more beautiful in real life, so much brighter. And the sky—it looks like it could swallow me.

  “Beautiful night,” Chale says, studying the stars.

  “I never knew the sky could look this fathomless.” I look at him, smile. “Thank you, by the way.”

  He looks at me, questions filling his eyes. “For what?”

  “For sticking by my side through all this chaos. For still supporting me as chief, even after everything my brother has done to you. For respecting me, even though I’m way younger than you. Even though I’m…a girl. So many people are against having a girl chief. But you seem okay with it.”

  Chale offers one of his rare smiles. “You freed me, Chief Aurora. I don’t know if you could ever begin to comprehend what you’ve done for me. Those of us under compulsion…we’re more bound to slavery than those who aren’t compelled. Because we can’t think for ourselves. Even if I remained a Defender to Titus, I would still thank you for giving me the antitoxin. Because at least my mind is free.”

  His words open up a chasm of confusing emotions in my chest. “Does it feel any different? The mind clarity, I mean?”

  “Absolutely. I feel like my whole life, I’ve been in a fog. I could make some decisions and make friends, and I remembered my family, though I didn’t miss them.” He looks down. “I miss them now, though.”

  The ache grows.

  “But, it always felt like there was a cloud in my mind. There were some things I had to do, and I didn’t know why, but I knew I had to do it.”