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I WOKE THINKING MY nose would be broken and my face swollen with bruising and sticky with blood.
Instead, I found my body refreshed, full of energy, and—
I’d been fed vampire blood.
I jolted up, finding myself on a bed looking out at the barracks under the arena.
“What in Death’s name was that?”
Maer was lying on her side on the bed to my left. Her expression was angry, but her eyes were rimmed with red—she’d been crying. It came as a surprise; she didn’t seem like the type to weep, much less let anyone see her vulnerable.
“What was what?” I asked of her demand. Despite being healed, I was still wearing Agana’s outfit. Maer was still wearing her clothes, too. I went to slick the hair from my forehead—only to find that my wrists were still bound by irons. “What happened? Why are we in the barracks? Where is everyone?”
“How are you so chatty?” she mumbled. Louder, she said, “You went berserk. It was...terrifying.”
I vaguely recalled the burning rage that had coursed through my veins like lightning as Aeros threatened Maer. I had gone a bit crazy on Auryn. “Oh. That.” I couldn’t meet her gaze. “He was suffocating you.”
“You’ve done this before?” she gasped.
“Similar,” I admitted. “I’m not proud of it. A couple of years ago, I caught some bullies bothering my sister. When I told them to shove off, they attacked me—but not all of them.”
The dark memory returned to my mind, along with the unnatural rage. As I fended off two, the third had continued to harass Sloan. He’d had her arm, twisting it, holding her hostage, ignoring her cries of protest.
Something had seemed to take hold of my body; it acted on its own, separate from my thoughts.
They went blank—and the next thing I knew, I was standing over three unconscious bullies.
Sloan had gaped at me in shock and fear. “What was that?” she’d demanded in a whisper.
“I—I don’t know,” I whispered back as exhaustion had flooded in where anger had been.
“I couldn’t stand seeing my sister hurt,” I said now. “I can’t stand to see anyone hurt who doesn’t deserve it—when it’s against their will.” I looked up at Maer, expecting to see harsh judgment on her face, only to see an understanding neutrality. She was a Gladiator; she saw and experienced violence three out of seven days. Of course, she wouldn’t be affected by it.
I hesitated to speak my next words. She likely wouldn’t be a fan of them. But I couldn’t lie; I couldn’t withhold the truth. Especially when she had already told me twice that she didn’t like “secret-keepers.”
“I couldn’t stand to see you hurt.”
Maer’s eyes widened. For a moment, I thought she would lurch up and try to punch the thought right out of me, but she didn’t move a muscle. In fact, it almost seemed as if she wouldn’t be able to get up at all.
She’s protecting something, I thought again.
Then her gaze flattened, and her voice was cold. “You can’t have feelings for me, Koen—none.”
“Why?” I blurted. “I like—”
“You can’t like me!” Maer snapped with a strained edge that indicated she was holding back tears. “Look what trouble it got us in.”
My brows furrowed in hurt. “Are you saying all of this is my fault?”
She opened her mouth to snap a response but then closed it and chewed her bottom lip. She looked away. “Maybe.”
I didn’t hold anything against her. She was only trying to find an explanation for all of this, and blaming someone else was the easiest thing.
“I’m not the enemy,” I told her quietly, wishing I could touch her arm in comfort. “They are.”
Maer nodded and sighed. “I know. I’m... I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I paused, then continued, “I know it’s scary to form attachments to people. I don’t blame you. But I can’t change my mind about how I feel about you, Maer.”
Confusion added to the many emotions on her tired face. “What... What do you feel?”
I swung my legs off the bed and padded—barefoot, thank the skies, those boots were so uncomfortable—to hers, sitting on the edge. She didn’t move to accommodate me, but there was still room. “I meant what I said before—”
“When you called me livestock.”
I laughed once sheepishly. “When I said that I admire you.”
“And listed many other adjectives...” Maer paused to think and then offered the smallest smirk. “That are true. I am capable, and I do have a temper. Though apparently, you do, too.”
I wanted to jump up like an excited child at the return of her ability to banter.
“Yes,” I admitted. “And nothing’s going to make me like you less.”
“What if I’ve done terrible things?”
I didn’t skip a beat. “Even then. I’ve done things, too.”
She looked doubtful—not at my claim of a questionable past, but wondering if she could trust me at all.
“I know we’re from different covens,” I continued, “and we barely know each other. But... I was hoping we could learn.”
“Why?”
“Because—”
Suddenly, Maer winced and groaned, closing her eyes and curving in on herself.
I bolted to my feet. “What? What’s wrong?”
She whimpered, her lower lip trembling. “I’m...sick.”
My heart lurched. “Sick how? Is that why you threw up? Which was impeccable timing, by the way.”
Maer wasn’t amused. “I need—”
“Food? Water? A blanket?” I rambled, wishing Sloan was here. Frustration gripped me. “You were supposed to be taken to a Medic. Why are we here?”
“All of the above.” Her voice was a strained whisper. “They made us both drink blood. I passed out right after you, and I woke up here just after sunrise. No one else has been around.”
“That’s why,” I muttered, more to myself than her. “It’s daytime.” I gritted my teeth. “Which means we could be here until sundown. But there are no guards...”
“Koen,” she whimpered.
“Right.”
The barracks were always supplied with essentials. I crossed the huge room to the cabinets, where canteens of warm water and dry goods were stored. Grappling with the chains, I managed to carry over a canteen and a pair of standard-issue pants that all Gladiators wore under their armor. We could change shirts if our hands weren’t bound, but no luck on that. After setting those down, I returned to the barrel of salted meat cuts and put it on an earthenware plate. But when I opened the wide cabinet that stored all of the weapons, including knives—it was completely cleared out.
“Looks like you’ll have to eat with your bare hands,” I told Maer as I walked back over. She was propped up on one arm as she chugged from the canteen. “Do you need help sitting up?”
“I’m fine,” she snapped defensively. “Turn around so I can change.”
Hurt again by her mistrust, I obeyed, going back to the cabinet to plate myself a slab of meat. I sat on the cold stone floor and chewed the meager, overcooked meal until my jaw ached.
I listened to Maer struggle to get up and grunt with pain and frustration as she changed. What kind of sickness did she have if it couldn’t be healed with blood? There were plenty of human ailments that couldn’t be cured by the fluid that only sealed up wounds and bones. Sloan would know.
It took every ounce of self-restraint for me not to rush to help. But I wouldn’t impede on a woman, especially one as defensive as Maer Whisler.
My heart was still thudding out of rhythm. I told her I had feelings for her. Was that stupid or brave? Does she really hate me? Will she push me away even further? Ugh, you’re so naïve, Koen Blackwood, falling head over heels for a girl you hardly know—
“I’m done,” Maer called over the creak of the bedframe as it bent under her. “Seriously?” she muttered. “I’m not that heavy.”
I got up and refrained from commenting, “Pure muscle.” That would probably offend her; even men were conscious about their weight. I sat on the bed as she picked up her plate to eat. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me your sickness?” I asked tentatively.
Maer dug into the meat like she hadn’t eaten in a month. She shook her head in response.
I sighed. “Didn’t think so. But you can still let me know about anything you need.”
She stopped chewing to stare at me for a moment. Then she gave a consenting nod.
That’s progress, I thought happily.
Leaving to let her eat without me watching every movement, I explored every entrance and exit. They were all locked, of course, from the outside. We were basically imprisoned. I knocked on each door in hopes there was a guard on the other side. If there was, there was a chance they would enter, and I could knock them out to escape—no such luck. There were no windows to track the path of the sun, either. Was it early morning? Midday?
Either way, we were trapped here until sundown.
I walked back to Maer, who was holding out her plate. “Can I have another?”
She’d eaten the entire steak. I hadn’t even been able to finish mine.
“I’m still hungry.” She pouted, glancing away as if embarrassed.
I grinned and refilled her plate. “Hey, a stomach wants what it wants. How are your wrists?”
“They were good after the blood,” she mumbled around the food, “but they’re starting to get raw again.”
“Mine too. The blood cup store is cleared out.”
“Not surprising.”
“Not at all.”
I got up to let her eat, but I barely made it a step before Maer muttered, “Stay.”
I looked back in surprise. “Really?” She nodded. I sat, and a moment later, she finished her meal, glancing around for a place to put her plate. “Here, I can take it.”
I placed both plates in the sink against the far wall. When I sat down again, she mumbled, “Thanks.”
Oddly proud of her, I dipped my head. “No need for thanks.”
She finally met my eyes with her blue ones. “I don’t have anyone who does nice things for me.”
My heart panged. There were plenty of broken families in every coven. Survival often took precedence over taking the time to care for others. I rested a hand on her knee. “I’ll be the first to promise to do nice things for you, Maer.”
Maer caught her lower lip between her teeth before it could start trembling. I could tell she was warring internally with herself. Finally, she said, “I wish I could tell you what’s wrong, Koen, but—”
The main back door slammed open, and a line of Gladiators started to file in—only for chaos to erupt and them to be jostled aside for five vampires wearing Rhidian gold to storm in.
They were on us before we could react.
My arms were wrenched over my head around to my back while Maer was hoisted onto one of their shoulders. I was shoved after her toward the door that led to the arena. It was suddenly open, allowing the typical sounds of a packed arena.
What was going on? This wasn’t an arena night.
When the crowd saw us, a wave of gasps went up. I dragged my gaze away from Maer for only a moment to see Agana across the arena jerk to her feet in a rage and start yelling at someone on her far right—
At Aeros, lounging at his mezzanine with one leg crossed over the corner, looking supremely smug.
“Whisler!”
The shout came from my left. Cirillo stood on his mezzanine, his body taut with anger and disbelief as the Rhidian set her down, not bothering to catch her when she stumbled and nearly fell. Cirillo jerked forward as if to jump to her rescue but refrained.
There was movement behind him. My gaze snapped to it—Ciel Kaladin. Her grin was savage and unnatural as she stared at Maer with equally wild eyes.
Happy. Ciel was overjoyed.
The pieces clicked into place. It was her.
It was Ciel who’d sold us.
