AN: HI GUYS! Enjoy!C:

I lay in my bed all night, staring dry-eyed at the ceiling. The relief I feel for seeing my sister alive is overwhelming, but-

Margret told me after we had a celebratory meal for our wedding that night that I was not allowed to go find her. I had to get permission from my husband, or the lady of the house. I shuddered.

The Lady of the House is regal looking, I suppose. But she is cold. She holds no emotions in her eyes whatsoever. Though I hate my husband and his brother with all of my heart, I feel a slight twinge of sympathy for them. I think I would rather have no mother at all than a mother who so blatantly hates me.

Normally I would be terrified that my husband will come into my room to consummate the marriage, but Jeb whispered to me as I wrung the edges of my nightgown between my hands nervously that his father had just passed away and he was still grieving. I had, at least, one more night to try and escape all of this.

Jacob was his name. Jacob Armenian Gethrow. What an awful name, I think. My parents would have named him something to tie him to their past. Some name of a small town in Kansas, where my parents were from. Where my sister and I were from.

But I'm glad he isn't named anything similar to my sister and I because I don't want to be associated with this boy. There is a hurt in his eyes that makes it hard to look at him. Though if I were more vain, like one of my sisters, Anitra, I wouldn't have a hard time looking at him at all. Both he and his brother are beautiful, almost perfect. Like a beautifully shining glass structure standing among the ruins of a dead world.

I wake in my still-foreign room early the next morning. I had fallen into a fitful sleep filled with gowns that billowed in the wind and trussed up men and women whose teeth dripped with venom when they smiled at me.

I jump out of my nightmare-filled bed and run to the bathroom across the room from me. I get into the small shower inlaid into the wall and wash quickly, not even relishing the hot water that causes my skin to steam and turn red. When I am out I throw on a robe and return to my room.

I am almost not entirely surprised to see that my bed has been made and there is a tray with what looks like pancakes on a large white plate sitting on the bed side table. The thought of pancakes makes me think of my home, my real home, and I am filled with sadness.

Ignoring the food, I open the closet and throw on a pair of jeans that fit me perfectly and a sweater that is as soft as a blanket. I pad barefoot to my door and check the knob. Unlocked.

I open it slowly, praying that the metal hinges don't creak. Once the door has opened enough, I slip out into the hall.

It is a pretty hallway, nicely done with rosy carpets and gold-trimmed walls. I think I see movement, but realize it is only a mirror. I pull my wet hair into a loose knot on top of my head and try to think where the other brides would be kept. On the other side of the house, maybe? My stomach tightens at the thought of that long trek, but I have to try. I turn right and walk to the end of the hall instead of left. Left was a dead end with only two more doors, doors I assume that are my sister-wives'.

Once at the end of the first corridor, I make my way down the second. It is so quiet in this house, I have a mixed sense of relief and horror. For a moment I think that I am trapped in an endless house with rooms filled with only dead bodies. I shudder and push my way forward, determined to get to Abilene.

I have gone down so many corridors by now that I know for certain that I am hopelessly lost. The house was much larger than I would have ever imagined. Maybe it did go on forever. Maybe my earlier thought wasn't so far off mark.

When I hear footsteps behind me, I turn to see that there are servants walking around, close enough to where I can see their shadows. I haven't come this far to get caught. I turn down another corridor and break into a run when I hear their footsteps grow nearer. Panicked, I turn down a few more halls, checking behind me to make sure there are none of the servants running after me.

I knock into something, then. I stumble back, but a pair of strong hands catch me before I fall. I bite back a scream and look up into a pair of hazel eyes.

"I think you're lost," he says with a small, gentle smile.

I say nothing, just stare wide-eyed at the boy holding me. At first I think My husband- he's found me. But as I calm down and focus, I see that the boy holding me at arm's length is his brother. I never caught his name.

He cocks his head and studies me. "You're one of my brother's," he says, raising an eyebrow. "You managed to get all the way across the house?"

I try finding my voice, and fail. His fingers clasping my arms are firm, but not rough.

"Impressive," he says, looking genuinely like he is stunned I made it.

"Thanks," I say shakily.

He studies me for a long moment before releasing me. "So who are you trying to find?" he asks.

When I say nothing he gives me a teasing look. "I know you aren't trying to run away; you would have brought some shoes with you," he says, directing his gaze to my bare feet. "And I doubt you came all the way across the house to be graced with my presence. So tell me," he says kindly, "who are you after?"

"Abilene," I whisper. When he looks blankly at me, I say, "She's my sister."

He looks at me a moment longer before nodding. "You look like her." He turns and starts walking away from me. Turning back to look at me, he smiles. "I'll bring you to her. Come along."

Hesitantly, I follow him.

an: I was gonna cut the chapter off here, but I'm in a writing mood.C: Enjoy!

The walk is silent as the grave. I don't want to walk beside him, but he gives me no choice, matching my pace perfectly. He smiles down at me as I look up at him. He is a head taller than me, and as handsome as his brother. His eyes, though. They carry no hatred or sadness. I could stare into them for hours. I quickly break his gaze and stare at the carpet. It has turned into a lush crimson color now, and is soft against my bare feet.

"May I ask your name?" Jacob's brother asks.

I bite my lip before replying. "Wren," I say.

The boy seems to consider this for a moment. "Like the bird. Nice name."

The bird? "No," I say, shaking my head.

He looks at me with raised eyebrows. "No?" he echoes.

Stupidly, I blush. "It's short for Lawrence," I say.

"Abilene and Lawrence," he says, half to himself. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you two were from Kansas." His smile is wry.

"And what's your name?" I ask.

The smile is still on his face. "Asher," he says. "Asher Romulus Gethrow."

I try and hide my grimace. Another weird name.

He laughs at my expression. "It's not a name I would have chosen, either," he reassures me. "You can call me Ash for short."

I nod, not wanting to be rude, but not wanting to talk either.

"Ah," Ash says finally, "here we are." He gestures toward a door in a hall that looks similar to my own.

When he sees me hesitating, he presses his hand to my back, easing my forward. "Go on in," he says.

Without another word, I rush forward and yank the door open.

AN: Welllll, there you go! See, these guys aren't bad! Their mom, though.. *shudder*. Review please!