So I just finished Spirit Bound. HORRIBLE CLIFF HANGER! This contains spoilers, obviously, so don't read if you haven't read SB. This is my continuation of it! Hope you enjoy. (: It will get more interesting, promise! REVIEW PLEASE!

Last Sacrifice
Chapter One
Dead.

I won't lie. The prospect of going to trial and letting a jury decide my untimely fate was quite tempting. I almost wanted to set it all in motion myself, but I knew that Abe would most likely pitch a fit about that plan and prevent it from happening (and by "pitch a fit" I mean send one of his many spies to kill anything in sight but me).

It was only tempting, however, because, during my short stay inside a dimly lit cell, I had learned how easy it was to forget. It was definitely an asset to my "moving on" that I didn't see Dimitri every day of my aching heart's life. I was forced to alienate myself from the world (save the sixteen or so guardians stationed outside my cell, with four more up the stairs). I talked to no one but the walls, and even that was hard.

I sat in the opposite corner of the cell most of the time. The cell had, unluckily, been my ex-boyfriend/mentor's when they thought he was still Strigoi, and although nothing remained in it that belonged to him, the simple fact that I knew he was once there, once sat on that cot on the other side of the cell was enough to drive me away from there.

They didn't allow visitors. I had occasionally heard voices arguing with the guardians upstairs, voices that belonged to Lissa, Christian and Adrian respectively, but they were never allowed down. I wouldn't have wanted to see them anyways. Not now, at least. I didn't want to see anyone.

In the beginning, I'd wanted to see them so desperately, but guiltily, I realized, not any more than I wanted to see Dimitri. No, I wanted to see Dimitri with every bone in my body in the beginning, so much so that I would try and talk to guardians into bringing him down there. When I came to accept that was futile, I took glimpses into Lissa's head. It was selfish, because I was essentially using her to get to the outside world, but even that proved tiresome. I could feel her anxiety and worry over me sometimes, but the majority of the time I was sucked into her and Christian's escapades, which were too graphic for me to be a part of.

So I confined myself to the left side of my cage, facing the wall with my knees brought to my chest. Several times guardians would attempt to make conversation (in actuality, a lot of them didn't believe I had done it, but what did that matter when dhampir opinion mattered to no moroi?), and I would be brought three meals over the course of the day, but I rarely moved. No conversation and no eye contact. So long as I maintained that, I could stay in my own little world.

And in my own little world was where I was happy. Not locked in a cell with leaky ceilings and roach infested floors. I was in a small, homey cabin wrapped in the warmth of a newly lit fire and the comfort of my love's arms.

Dimitri's arms.

He would be kissing my neck tenderly, running his fingers through my hair and whispering sweet nothings about how we would plan our lives around each other while still doing our jobs. He'd kiss my lips and then things would begin to heat up as his tongue found mine. His hands would no longer be innocent, instead choosing to travel up and down my unclothed sides. I'd close my eyes and take in his touch, and in that deep, husky voice of his, he would whisper…

"Roza."

My eyes snapped open from my dream world. It appeared I was becoming so good at fabricating a false reality, I was beginning to actually hear Dimitri's voice. I wasn't sure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing yet.

I sighed and decided my stomach could probably handle a piece of toast from this morning's breakfast they left. Expecting the action to be quick, I didn't expect to be frozen in my tracks when my eyes landed upon a tall body standing in front of my cell.

Dimitri's.

"Roza," He repeated, inclining his head as a form of acknowledgment, "How are you?"

I didn't respond, instead opting to grab the small slice of toast I'd gone for originally. I made a move to turn back around but he spoke, once again causing even my blood to go stiff.

"Ironic how we are in opposite places now," He commented, and I flickered my eyes up long enough to catch him brushing a stray piece of his long hair out of his face, "I was once in that very place, and you were in this one."

"I do believe our intentions are entirely different, however," I murmured, nibbling on the cold, soggy toast.

He seemed mildly amused, "Perhaps."

"How did you get down here?" I muttered again. Having not used my voice box in over a month proved to be quite the problem.

He shrugged, "I asked."

I shook my head, "Right. And why would you come now, a month after I've been stationed down here?"

He stared at me for a bit, "Does it matter?"

I shrugged, "I guess not. I'm going to be executed anyways."

And just like that, his entire cool, calm demeanor diminished and I jumped back, startled as his hands gripped the metal bars.

"Don't you say that!" He hissed through his teeth, "Don't you ever give up. The Rose Hathaway I knew would never give up."

I snorted, which wasn't very pretty considering I had been trying to hold it back, "Yeah well, things fade Dimitri. I'm sure you know how that goes."

He didn't miss the look I gave him, I could tell by the slight wince he gave as he released the bars.

"Don't mock me, Rose…you know that…our situations are entirely different." His logic always failed to produce any sort of realization by me.

"No, you know what, Dimitri? I don't really think they are. I'm about to have my life taken away from me, just like you did. But you know our only difference? I can't be brought back to life after they stake me. I will be dead. Not undead, but dead, Dimitri. You can't fight through Siberia and back, break a criminal out of prison and find his rogue brother to bring me back. I. Will. Be. Dead."

He began to back away from the cell, his hard eyes staying locked on mine. But I could see the fight going on behind them; the inner turmoil as he fought his memories and his logic.

"Now I suggest you leave…things were finally becoming easier for me after I didn't see you for a week," I growled, throwing the remaining piece of bread I had behind me as I spun to go back to my spot, "I'm sure your hero is needing you for something."

I heard him take in a breath, as if he were going to say something. I waited, but the only sound I ended up hearing were the residing echoes of his boots as he climbed the stairs.

God, was it hard to be strong.