C HAP TER F IF TEEN
y eyes are heavy the next morning, and I briefly consider rolling over, burying my head beneath my blankets, and skippingM my training with the imperius. We’ve been given a day off from gladian training after the challenge, and my body aches.
But I know better than to test Tiernon. Vampires may not be able to enter private spaces unless invited, but I’m sure he’d send one of his sigilmarked imperiums to haul me out of bed in front of the other gladians.
I sit up in bed, finding Tolva already awake in the bunk next to me, staring into the distance with her arms wrapped around her knees.
I won’t ask what’s wrong. We’ve all got our problems, and she probably wants to be left alone— “Another body was found last night,” she whispers. “That’s six so far. That we know of.”
“Who was it?”
“A guardant.”
My heart sinks like a stone and my whole body goes cold. I haven’t seen Leon since before I walked into the arena. I’d figured he was too angry with me for letting Baldric almost ruin my ankle.
“Which guardant?” I demand.
“Shhh,” someone hisses.
Cassius’s, Tolva mouths, and something in my chest releases even as I ache for Cassius.
I didn’t know Cassius’s guardant well. Her name was Kassandra, and she was a quiet woman who was incredibly fast with
her throwing knives.
And now she’s dead.
Frustration drills behind my eyes, and I push my heavy woolen blanket away. Someone is culling us like we’re a herd of animals. And no one seems to care.
Tolva lies back down, pulling her blanket back over her head.
With a sigh, I haul myself out of bed, drag on my tunic and leggings, and head to the training hall, only to find that Tiernon isn’t there.
Most of the other imperiums are gathered, but they seem to be getting a slow start this morning, standing in small groups and murmuring among themselves.
“I could’ve slept in after all,” I mutter.
Lucius suppresses a smile and swipes two wooden swords from the stack near the door. The imperius train with steel and silver, but gladians and novices are forced to continue using wood.
Good news for me, since I’d probably be impaled by one of the imperium’s during sparring, and then who would save my brothers?
“Are you going to tell me where he went this time?”
“Some of the vampire rebels were sighted last night.” Lucius hands me a sword.
“Vampire rebels?”
Lucius gives a stiff nod. In my peripheral vision, I catch Neris curling her hands into fists, while Lucius lets out a sigh.
“The sigilmarked may feel as if the emperor favors the vampires too blatantly, but there are some vampires who believe he doesn’t favor them enough. And others who feel someone else should sit on the throne.”
Someone like … Rorrik?
Vampire rebels. My mind provides me with a sudden memory. A vampire standing next to Bran the night we first met our potential sponsors. And the loathing on his face as he watched the emperor boast about his accomplishments. Realization floods through me. I already know Bran wants the emperor dead, but I’m now certain he’s working with the rebels. From the inside.
My vision speckles, and saliva floods my mouth. The emperor has a long history of quashing any threats to his power. I have no doubt that Bran has peppered the court with those loyal to him, which means I’m somehow at the center of a scheme so dangerous, so terrifying, the chances of me making it out alive are decreasing with every minute I spend in this place.
“Arvelle?” Lucius is frowning at me.
I take a deep breath, rolling my shoulders. Maybe this most recent attack is a good thing. Maybe Bran will change his mind and use his rebels to kill the emperor instead. I ruthlessly suppress the part of me that worries if Tiernon will make it back here.
“In that case, I could have slept in.” My voice is tight, and Lucius narrows his eyes.
“Nope,” he says. “Ti left your training in my hands while he’s gone.”
Hearing Lucius call Tiernon “Ti” only darkens my mood further. Not only did the man abandon me without a word, but he formed a whole new family with his imperius. All while my family was falling apart.
Kissing him was a mistake. I was weak.
“I’m not sure why he cares,” Orna mutters, picking up her sword and swinging it. “She can’t possibly be worth everything he did for her.”
Everything he did for me? I open my mouth but Lucius is already moving toward her, murmuring something in his low voice.
Orna shakes her head, stalking away, but several of the other imperiums are nodding, several more shooting me dark looks.
“Take it up with your leader.” I give her a wide, toothy smile.
“Enough.” Lucius jerks his head toward the mat.
I lift my practice sword and he attacks.
“You’re distracted,” he says moments later, when I almost trip on my own feet.
I don’t bother arguing. It’s already mid-Lunius, and the ultimus conquestus is just two and a half weeks away in early Quintilis. In that time, I somehow need to figure out how to get close enough to the emperor—a man I’ve only ever seen surrounded by guards—to kill him. Not to mention, the ludus is home to a cold-blooded murderer.
“Maybe she needs to train with someone who won’t go easy on her,” Orna taunts from the sidelines.
Lucius blocks my punch, aiming a frown over my shoulder. I don’t need to glance behind me to know Orna is giving him a wide grin.
“What’s the matter, Arvelle?” she calls “Scared?”
I ignore her some more, but I catch Deitra giving me a considering look. The vampire is the shortest of the imperiums, with a curvy, hourglass figure. She reaches up to tighten her ponytail, pushing bright red strands from her sweaty face. The smirk she sends Orna makes it clear they’re friends.
“Lucius,” someone calls, and he steps back. I lean over, planting my hands on my knees as I catch my breath.
Someone steps onto the mat and I don’t need to lift my head to know it’s Orna.
“I don’t want to fight you,” I mutter, still sucking in several deep breaths.
“Aren’t you here to train? How are you going to get any better if you don’t fight people who actually want to hurt you?”
Orna pushes her long dark braid over her shoulder. “Spar with me, Arvelle. One of the imperius tenets is courage, you know.
How do you expect anyone to respect you when you’re such a coward?”
Orna is a vampire, and she’s not wearing suppression cuffs, which means my strength is a drop in a bucket compared to her own. She’s stronger, faster, and meaner. But I’m wily.
I’m not sure why Orna hates me so much more than the others. Most of the imperius are disapproving, making their dislike clear. But Orna has been wanting this moment since the day we met.
To not fight her would make me look like a coward.
“Don’t kill her, Orna,” Neris warns from the sidelines.
“I won’t.” Orna picks up a practice sword, swinging it idly in her hand. “I’m just going to teach her a lesson.”
I lift my own sword, forcing myself to loosen my grip on the wooden hilt.
Orna barrels at me, shockingly fast.
I spin to the side, but she’s already turning, too, striking out with a fist. I duck, but she hits my shoulder. A flash of pain, and my sword arm goes numb. I switch hands, using the sword like a club in an attempt to get some space.
Orna easily dodges, smashing her own sword into my ribs. It’s a glancing blow, or my ribs would have shattered.
I stagger, and she’s on me—gripping my shoulders, pinning me in place. With no other choice, I slam my forehead into her
nose.
It’s a stupid, desperate move.
And I pay for it.
White-hot stars flash across my vision. Orna yelps, releasing me. But vampires recover faster than humans. She launches
herself at me, fangs bared.
“Don’t you dare!” Lucius roars.
Orna’s hands clamp down on my shoulders once more, her head arched back, too far for me to hit. I kick out, but she’s monstrously strong.
Older than I’d imagined. At least four hundred.
“Orna!” Lucius snaps.
Orna ignores him.
She’s going to kill me.
“Orna, stop!” Lucius orders, and I can hear his feet pounding toward us. He’s too far away.
Flicking a throwing knife out of the sheath at my hip, I slam it into Orna’s gut.
Yes, that’s a silver blade, bitch.
Her mouth makes an O, and she releases me instantly, plucking the knife from her stomach and throwing it to the ground.
Claws extend from her fingertips, and her mouth pulls back, revealing sharp fangs. Her hiss sends a chill down my spine. I
back up, mapping out the nearest exit. There’s no intelligent life in her eyes.
“Enough!”
Lucius steps in front of Orna and slams his hands against her chest. She lets out another hiss and he bares his teeth. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
Slowly, her eyes lighten. She sweeps her gaze around us, and her claws retract.
“What were you thinking?” Neris snaps at her.
Orna looks suddenly lost, and despite the fact that she almost killed me, some part of me feels sorry for her. With a muttered apology, she turns and walks away.
Lucius lets out a breath, turning to me. He doesn’t look happy. “I’ll walk you to lunch.”
“I don’t—”
He’s already heading toward the door, and I swipe my throwing knife from the mat, wiping the blood on my tunic and shoving it back into its sheath. I’ll need to clean it properly later.
Lucius waits for me by the door, and we walk toward the dining hall. It’s quieter than usual, with most of the other gladians likely enjoying a rare sleep in.
We walk in silence for a few moments, before Lucius clears his throat.
“I know a little something about growing up in the Thorn,” he says. “I know you have no choice but to answer a challenge, and that to appear weak in any way is to invite death. But here, you need to be smart. Fighting Orna was stupid. She wants you dead.”
“I know. But why? Is this all because Tiernon is making me train with the imperius?”
Dark eyebrows draw together. “I think that’s between the three of you. What’s important is how you respond to her goading. One of our tenets may be courage, but another is strategy. I know you can scheme—I’ve seen and heard it.”
“Very inspirational,” an amused voice says, and Lucius goes still. Behind his shoulder, Rorrik leans against the stone wall, a predatory light in his eyes.
What is he even doing here? For someone with so many responsibilities, he spends a suspicious amount of time skulking around the ludus.
Lucius turns, bowing low. Rorrik gives me an expectant look, waiting for me to do the same, and I lower my head, secretly cussing him.
“Die, die, die, die, die,” I chant, wishing my thoughts alone could make his head explode.
“No.” Rorrik’s voice is soft and silky. It’s the stroke of a hand across fur, the nuzzle of lips against warm skin.
My entire body turns blazingly hot and then icy cold.
He’s in my head. The emperor’s son is in my head.
I recoil, slamming my back against the wall. Rorrik gives me a wicked smile, while Lucius slowly rises with a frown.
“Still here.”
“Stop it!” My voice is high-pitched, panicked.
Lucius moves closer, his eyes intent. “What’s wrong?”
“Then stop screaming your thoughts at me,” Rorrik croons, amusement heavy in his voice.
I’m doing this?
Panic claws at me, and my throat constricts until I can barely breathe. Rorrik’s eyes turn feral and I want to climb out of my own skin. He’s a predator. My terror excites him.
“Leave,” Rorrik says, and I begin to sidle away, my back pressed against the wall.
“Not. You.”
I freeze. Lucius hesitates, his gaze flicking between us.
Rorrik leans toward Lucius. It’s the slightest change of position, but threat oozes from his body. “Did I stutter?”
“No.” Lucius firms his mouth. “Rorrik—”
Rorrik sighs, giving Lucius a look that’s almost … exasperated. “I won’t hurt her.”
“Go,” I say. The last thing I want is for Lucius to be hurt or worse for defending me. But I’ll remember this.
I’ll remember that he tried to stay.
Lucius reluctantly walks away, leaving me facing Rorrik in the corridor. Fresh fear washes over me, and Rorrik’s nostrils flare.
“There’s something very interesting about this little interaction,” he says. An icy presence slices into my mind, clutching it
tight.
This is what makes him so dangerous.
I let out a pained sound, unprepared for the invasion. The pressure loosens slightly, and Rorrik stares into my eyes. Into my mind. He leans close, studying my sigil. “It has grown.”
I’m not sure how he knows that. The change is so slight, even Tiernon hasn’t noticed.
“And yet this is not a sigilmarked power.”
I stare at him. “Are you sure?” Some of my fear has turned into shock, and it seems to have blunted the edge of his bloodlust. Rorrik’s eyes are icy once more.
“Yes,” he says. “And yet you broke through my shields.”
I prepare to reach for my dagger, but it doesn’t seem as if my disembowelment is imminent. Instead, he looks almost … thoughtful.
Which means he probably won’t kill me if I question him some more. “Your shields?”
A sharp nod. “My mental shields are always up. I don’t reinforce them unless I’m near those who are at least half-crowned gold or full silver-crowned. Because I don’t need to. And yet you sliced through my basic shields like they were butter.
Something you shouldn’t have been able to do as a sigilmarked with an embarrassingly small sigil.”
He shifts his cool gaze to my face, waiting expectantly.
Understanding hits me. Rorrik doesn’t care what length my sigil is. He wants my reaction to his taunt. Why? I have no idea.
Boredom maybe. Folding my arms, I raise one eyebrow, leaning against the wall behind me.
The barest hint of amusement flickers through his eyes. “I want to know how you did it.”
“I don’t know. You heard me. It just … happened.”
Rorrik studies me like he’s my judge, jury, and potential executioner, and ice slides up my spine.
“I don’t understand,” I murmur. “You’re not … reading my mind?”
“No. You were shouting your thoughts at me.”
My cheeks heat. Yes, I was demanding that he die. “What’s it called?” I ask. “This … ability.”
“Mindpathing. I know of only two sigilmarked who can do it, and both are gold-crowned who were blessed by their goddess Staleia. It’s much more common for vampires and maginari.”
I never asked Staleia for this. And I have no doubt such a power would have required years of worship in return.
There’s only one way I can explain this sudden power. Because the only other time I’ve mindpathed was with Antigrus.
“Use it well.”
My stomach twists into tight knots. “How do I make it stop?”
“You take your last breath.”
Great.
“Control it, or it will control you,” Rorrik says disinterestedly. His gaze slides past me, his expression turning lethal.
“Primus.”
Tiernon places his hand on my shoulder, and I’m too relieved to shake it off.
“Rorrik.” He keeps his eyes on the emperor’s son, although he gives my shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
Rorrik doesn’t miss the movement. One side of his mouth kicks up in a lazy smirk.
“Shouldn’t you be off terrorizing someone?” Tiernon asks stiffly.
Rorrik’s eyes meet mine. “I thought I was.”
The words are almost teasing, and for some strange reason, I want to … smile. Biting my lower lip, I clamp down on the urge.
Rorrik’s eyes narrow, and something I can’t define flickers through them. When they leave my face, it’s as if the air around me turns cold.
Tiernon and Rorrik have another of their silent staring competitions, and I shift on my feet. With a sharp nod at Tiernon, Rorrik turns and prowls down the corridor.
Behind Tiernon, two novices stand, waiting and watching. He glances over his shoulder as if he’s forgotten they were there.
“Thank you, Drewsin and Cameri, you’re dismissed.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t understand why you, the emperor, or Rorrik could possibly need novices following you around all day.”
He sighs. “The emperor thinks it’s symbolic. He also believes after a year of being expected to thrust their bodies between us and any hint of danger, loyalty to the empire will be ingrained in them for the rest of their careers.”
“Hmm.” Maybe that’s my answer. Maybe I can find a novice who doesn’t have that loyalty. And we can work together.
“Arvelle?”
I blink. Tiernon frowns at me. “I heard you let Orna goad you.”
“Yeah, well, we both know my decision making has been compromised since I walked into this place.”
“Why were you talking to Rorrik?”
“He cornered me.”
“I know. Why is he so interested in you?” There’s a hint of something that sounds almost like suspicion in his voice and I don’t like it.
“I have no idea. But … I need to talk to you.”
His eyes lighten, and he nods. “In that case, come with me.”
THE IMPERIUS QUARTERS are quiet, but Tiernon doesn’t linger in the common room. Instead, he leads me down the long hall, opening a door on the left.
“Wow.” We’re standing in a separate living area complete with a fire—I have no idea how that works so far underground —and a kitchen I doubt he’s ever used. Vampires need to eat to maintain their ideal strength, but they’ll only truly starve if they lack enough blood.
Curiosity wars with annoyance, and curiosity wins. I let myself wander, taking in three separate bedrooms and … “Outside.”
Like Rorrik, Tiernon has access to his own outdoor space. While Rorrik’s space is a forest that shouldn’t be able to exist given this ludus is in the middle of the city, Tiernon’s space is a well-maintained garden, the flowers planted in neat rows.
Tiernon opens the glass door. It’s still sunny outside, but the same thick, aether-protected tiles from the arena arch over his door, casting a long shadow that protects the room from the sun.
I’d give anything to feel the sun on my face. And I’ve only been without it for weeks. What must it be like for Tiernon?
“Go,” he says softly. “I’ll wait here.”
He’s looking at me the same way he used to when we were young, before we ever kissed. With a mixture of fondness and longing.
I don’t hesitate. Despite the frost still melting on the ground, the sun is warm on my cheeks. Senthara will never provide the true warmth I crave—it’s too far south for that—but even in the middle of Lunius, the sky is a clear, vivid blue.
I inhale a greedy lungful of greenery.
“You always loved the sun,” Tiernon says from the shadows behind me.
I turn. “So did you.”
He gives a languid shrug. But I remember the horror he lived with when he could no longer sit on the highest branches of our tree. When he could no longer turn his face up to the warmth of the sun. The knowledge of what he was losing had made the sacrifice worse.
“We need to talk,” Tiernon says, gesturing for me to sit in one of the chairs behind the glass door. He leaves it open, so we can at least enjoy the cool, fresh air.
I sit. May as well get this over with. “I can … mindpath.”
Tiernon’s brows dip. “Impossible.”
“Nope.”
“Go on then.” His voice is laced with challenge—just as it was so many times when we spurred each other on as children, each of our dares more audacious than the last.
I focus. How did I do this with Rorrik? It wasn’t intentional. It was as if I was attempting to drill a hole through his skull and into his thoughts with my own mind.
I strain, but all I do is give myself a headache. Tiernon’s expression flickers. Is that … disappointment?
“I can do it. I swear. I did it with Rorrik.”
His eyes turn cool. “You mindpathed with Rorrik.”
I frown at him. He can’t possibly be jealous of the emperor’s ruthless son. Can he?
Tiernon leans back in his chair. “How did this happen?”
“I don’t know. I think … I think maybe Antigrus gave me this power? I don’t know why. And I don’t know how. Have you ever heard of maginari giving sigilmarked their powers?”
A shake of his head. “Never. I’ll look into it, but in the meantime …”
“Keep it to myself. Believe me, I know.”
We’re both quiet, and I feel suddenly awkward. Perhaps I should go … I get to my feet, and Tiernon pins me with a stern look. “Tell me what happened six years ago, Arvelle.”
I tense. But deep down, I knew this was coming. Tiernon isn’t going to let it go. And some small part of me wants him to understand my hurt and rage.
Slowly, I lower myself to my seat once more. “Kassia and I were getting ready for our final fight in the Sands. We’d each won two solo fights and chose to fight the last round as a team.” I swallow thickly and meet his eyes. “My brothers wanted to go see the mine.”
“What are you thinking about?” Kassia asks, her delicate brow furrowed as she pulls her white-blond hair back into a
braid.
“Death and money.”
“Ah. The usual then.” Tying off her braid with a piece of twine, she slings her arm around my shoulders. “Would you like me to distract you with plans for our future in the north?”
“Yes.”
She squeezes me tight. “Beaches and salt-tinged breeze, all the seafood we can eat, better schooling for the twins.”
There were no downsides for me. But for her …
“You’ll really leave your father?”
Her gaze drops to the ground. “He keeps insisting he wants me to get out and explore the world. When we win this money, it’s going to change our lives, and he told me I better not do anything stupid like stay behind for him.”
I don’t like the idea of leaving Leon here alone either. “We’ll convince him to come with us at some point. The twins will help with that.”
“We’ll help with what?” Evren appears, his brother by his side.
I glower down at them. “How did you get here?”
“Everyone was coming to the Sands. We hid in the back of a supply cart.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Of course they did.
“You’re supposed to be with Mother.” I don’t want them anywhere near the fighting, and they know that.
“If you won’t let us stay, can we go to the mine? Everyone else is going,” Ger blurts out. “Can we—”
I shake my head. “The mine is incredibly dangerous.”
Just a few years ago, one of the emperor’s sons sent his scouts to search the mine for magical resources. They promptly found a vein of fulminar crystal. The incandescent crystal is legendary for its beauty, with some insisting the crystal is remnants of fallen stars.
It’s also highly explosive. And the emperor directs all of it to the front.
Ev heaves a sigh, as if he expected this from me, and yet he can’t contain his disappointment.
Ger scowls. “But—”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t go. We’ll take you to pick berries in a few days.” Once the fighting is over.
“Berries,” Gerith sneers, showcasing the gap where he recently lost a tooth. I fight to hide a smile.
“Yes, berries. Didn’t you ask for pie?”
“But—”
“Repeat after me,” I say. “We can’t go near the mine.”
“But why?” Ev asks. “Everyone else we know is going.”
“No, they’re not. And if they are, they’re risking their lives.” I stare down at their stubborn little faces. There’s only one solution to this.
Kassia’s eyes meet mine, and her mouth twitches. “Go. You’ve got just enough time.”
“If I’m not back …”
“I’ll stall.”
Taking each of my brothers by the hand, I march them away from the southern entrance of the arena and through various alleys and side streets until we come to a dusty dirt road leading back toward home. An oxcart rattles by, and I hold up a coin, convincing the driver to take us to the Thorn.
The twins whine the entire way back, but I’m mentally elsewhere, readying myself to walk into the arena.
The emperor doesn’t often attend the Sands, preferring to attend fights where he is guaranteed to see blood and death.
And yet terror has swamped me each time I’ve walked out onto his sand.
Since it’s the middle of the day, our mother is sleeping. Shaking her shoulder, I jostle her. Yes, she’ll be half glistered, and mostly incapable of being a mother. But this is important. She knows the dangers of the mine.
She opens her eyes, blinking blearily at me.
“I need you to watch the twins.”
Evren mutters something and Gerith snorts, shoving him. Evren plows his fist into his brother’s gut. And the fight is on.
Sighing, I shove them both out of the room and close the door, ignoring the muffled grunts and yelps in the hall.
“Why?” Her voice is hoarse.
Because you’re their mother. Because they need you. Because I can’t be here every minute of every day.
I hold my tongue and keep my voice even through sheer willpower. “Because their friends are going to the mine.”
Understanding flickers across her eyes. “And they want to go.”
“Yes.”
“You need to go to work.”
My stomach twists. She hasn’t even remembered it’s my last fight in the Sands today. “Yes.”
Perhaps it’s better if she doesn’t know. If Kas and I win, my mother will spread the news far and wide until we’re targeted by every thief and murderer in the city. I’ll probably be mugged three steps from the arena’s entrance.
“I will watch them. Thank you for waking me, baby.”
I just nod, stepping out of the room. Gerith scowls back at me, rubbing at his arm, while Evren seems to have accepted his dreams of going to the mine are dead. He’s already reaching for a book.
“Berries,” I promise. “Pie. I’ve got to go. Be good.” And then I’m out the door and running back toward the arena, my hand lifted uselessly as I hope for a carriage. But all of them are already full, passing me by, heading toward the same place I am.
“I should’ve known she couldn’t be trusted,” I get out. And the first tear spills from my eye.
A muscle ticks in Tiernon’s cheek. “She was never the mother you deserved.”
I shrug, glancing away. Loving an addict is like being an addict yourself. Only you’re addicted to hope. You constantly tell yourself that this time will be different. Things will get better. And always, always, you know that one day, when they’re dead and cold, after their addiction has sucked the breath from their lungs … you’ll still wonder if you could have done more. If you could have been more—even though their addiction was sucking the breath from your lungs too.
“Arvelle?”
I swallow around the vicious ache in my throat. “The Sands isn’t supposed to be to the death.”
“And yet people die every day. Old feuds are reignited and new ones begin,” Tiernon says.
“We really thought we would be fine. Even if we didn’t win that last round, there was no chance we wouldn’t survive.
We’d trained so hard. We were the perfect team.”
I make it back to the arena just in time, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Where’s Ti?” I sweep my gaze over the crowd, looking for wide shoulders and a dark scowl.
Kassia shakes her head. “I have no idea. He should be here.”
He never would have missed this. Never.
Something has happened to him. Oh gods.
“Arvelle.”
I’m blinking back tears as Kassia grabs my shoulders, giving me a violent shake. “You’ll talk to him later. I’m sure he’s fine. But you have to focus.”
She’s right. I let out a long, slow breath and we step inside, following the guard to our waiting spot.
“This is it, Velle,” Kassia murmurs while we wait, the fight before us ending as the winners crow, their opponents throwing down their swords. “It’s all going to be different after this.”
“Your turn,” the guard says, and I reach for Kassia’s hand, giving it a squeeze.
We both step into the arena. On the other side, our opponents do the same.
The first woman is taller than both Kas and me, but it’s not her height that concerns me. It’s her bulk. Her sleeveless vest draws attention to the bulge of her biceps and shoulders.
Speed. Speed and skill. That’s what this will come down to.
A dull boom sounds in the distance, and the ground trembles beneath our feet. I frown, but Kas is cursing, her voice low
and rough.
I follow her gaze.
Fuck.
Both of us know the other fighter. Galia Volker. And from the slow smile spreading across her face, she used her father’s influence to be placed in this arena for this fight.
“Fynton wasn’t worth this,” Kas mutters.
“Understatement.”
Galia hadn’t been pleased that her ex-lover had moved on to Kas a few years ago. Kas ended things within a few months, unhappy with the entitlement he thought he had over her time. But Galia had made it clear over the years that she hadn’t forgotten who Fynton had chosen once they were over.
“Some part of me knew then. I’ve never felt dread like it. It … consumed me. And Kas … I don’t know what happened, Ti, she was just suddenly tripping over her feet.”
Tiernon’s eyes flare and I realize I’ve called him Ti. I’m too exhausted to care.
“I still see it every time I close my eyes. Galia went straight for Kas. The woman I was fighting … gods, I don’t even remember her name. She was strong, and I was distracted. I came down wrong on my ankle and almost lost my head.”
The blade had been so close, I’d heard it sing through the air, an inch from my neck.
“I was slow, and I took too long to make her throw down her sword. And in the meantime, Kassia was fighting Galia. In my nightmares, I’m making that run. Sprinting across the arena in slow motion while Galia thrusts her sword into my best friend.”
Blank eyes, crimson sand, Leon’s desperate screams.
“Everyone thinks I killed Galia Volker. Honestly, I wish I did. But Kassia severed her carotid artery. Volker was dead before I sliced off her head.” I can hear the horror in my voice. Tiernon opens his mouth to say something, and then snaps it closed. “I was trying to bring Kassia back. Screaming for a healer. But I knew there was no hope. She was dead within moments.”
Someone hands me a sack of coins. When I don’t take it, they tie it around my neck. People are screaming. Not with horror. They’re celebrating. Celebrating me.
Because I lived.
And, gods, I wish I hadn’t.
I ignore them, taking Kas’s hand in mine. It’s already cooling. How can it be cooling?
Leon is muttering something. It sounds like another language. He’s praying to his goddess. But even she can’t control
death.
“Arvelle.”
Gerith is suddenly standing next to me, tears running down his face as he stares at Kas. “No, no, no.”
My mind can’t make sense of him being here, so I turn my attention back to Kas. Some part of me still expects her to
open her eyes.
“Velle. Velle, it’s important. Velle!”
Crack!
My cheek is suddenly hot with pain. I stare at Gerith, and he swings again, slapping me on the other side of my face.
His lower lip is trembling. How did he get here? I took them home. Where … “We were at the mine.”
My gaze shoots to the smoke in the distance, and some of the fog lifts from my head.
“No.”
“Evren was close to the entrance of the mine. Closer than me.”
Tiernon closes his eyes. “Gods. Velle—”
“I’m not done,” I hiss, my voice trembling. I’ve imagined this moment so many times. Imagined telling him exactly what happened the day he left. The ruin my life became.
“Evren almost died. His lungs were severely damaged. But he was alive, and we were going north anyway, as soon as he was stable enough to travel. I was taking him to the healers in Nesonias.”
“But you didn’t go.”
“No. My mother stupidly told her brother I’d won. He broke into my room and took my winnings while I was at the healers with Evren. Three days later, our mother took her own life. Her note said she couldn’t live with what she’d done. Allowing Evren to be so badly hurt, and then watching her brother take my winnings … it was too much for her.”
“So you’ve been alone all this time.”
“I’m not alone. I have Evren and Gerith.”
His mouth thins, but he gives me a sharp nod. “Tell me how you ended up here.”
I open my mouth and my throat tightens, that spot on my neck burning with searing pain. I can’t tell him I’m here to kill the emperor. My deal with Bran prevents me from speaking of it.
“A vampire bond.” Tiernon’s gaze drops to my neck and he gets to his feet with a rough curse. “You know better than this.”
“You can see it?”
“Only vampires can see it, and only when it flares. I should have paid more attention, maybe I would have noticed it sooner.”
When I don’t reply, he takes a step closer. “Where are your brothers, Arvelle?”
I strain but the words won’t come out, and the pain turns sharp enough to make my eyes burn.
He crouches in front of me, taking my hands. “Someone took them then. You don’t need to tell me who. Just tell me where
they are.”
“Nesonias.” The word is a relief.
“Because Evren needs to be healed.”
My brother’s face flashes before my eyes, purple and straining for air. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“You do now. I’m getting you out of here. Tonight.”
My heart leaps, but I shake my head. “You can’t.”
His large hands squeeze mine. “I can and I will. I’ll have your brothers found, and I’ll make sure Evren is healed myself.”
Behind him, the sun is low in the sky, and for the first time in days, hope shimmers through me. My vow with Bran stipulates that I have to kill the emperor after I win my third challenge—the ultimus conquestus.
But if I never complete that challenge … Perhaps I never have to kill the emperor.
Tiernon is still looking at me. “I don’t think you understand how dangerous Rorrik is. The fact that you can mindpath is a curiosity at the very least, a potential death sentence at worst. The moment he learned what you can do, he became a threat to your very existence.”
I chew on my lower lip, the full weight of this new power hitting me. “It’s that rare?”
He gives a sharp nod. “And the last thing you need is more of the emperor’s attention.”
Wiggling my hands free, I get to my feet. “We can’t risk Elva learning I’ve left the ludus while she still has my brothers.
They need to escape as soon as they can. I’ll take my mirror with me and warn them in the morning.”
My brothers are smart, and I know they’ll have been looking for a way out. By now, Elva has likely been lulled into a false sense of security. It’s dangerous, but it’s also our best option.
Tiernon watches me, his eyes dark. When I nod my agreement, some of the tension drains from his face.
Being with him like this—away from the others—it’s stirring up all kinds of old memories. Memories of the gentle way he touched me. The way he would help me down from the branches of our oak, his hands tightening for a long moment before he released me. The way he scowled at Carrick, and any other boys who stole my attention for too long.
As we grew older, my once-casual touches made his cheeks flush. And when he stroked my hair back from my face, my heart would skip a beat. Without fail, his gaze would drop to my mouth, where it lingered.
The tension soaked into all our interactions, even as I told myself that thing we wanted to happen—that thing we were both
craving—could never happen.
Until the day it did.
Tiernon pulls me close. Do those memories haunt him the way they haunt me? Is he thinking about our past right now?
His nose nuzzles mine, and I breathe in his masculine scent. Slowly, gently, his thumb strokes my cheekbone, and he brushes his lips against mine in a silent request.
I sigh, my limbs turning languid. Tiernon doesn’t hesitate, deepening our kiss until our mouths fit perfectly together, the way they always have. My heart tumbles, and I bury my hands in his tunic, yanking him closer. It’s been so, so long.
I flick my tongue between his fangs, which have descended enough to make this kiss dangerous. The sting across my tongue makes me gasp, the pain sharp and fleeting. Kissing a vampire takes a certain level of skill, and I’m out of practice. Tiernon’s tongue strokes mine, closing the tiny wound instantly, and I shiver with pure want.
He lets out a rough sound, his hands pulling me even closer.
My core clenches. Gods, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him.
His kiss becomes tender, his sigh filled with longing. When he lifts his head, his eyes are filled with such a deep, raw sadness, I cup his cheek. He attempts a smile, his hand taking mine.
“We need to go.”
I can’t reply around the lump in my throat. So I nod, allowing him to lead me back to my room, where I grab my satchel, weapons, coin purse, and mirror.
Trailing after Tiernon, I watch avidly as he strides to one of the other bedrooms within his quarters, where he leans his body against a crack in the wall. The wall slowly swings open, and I raise my eyebrow.
“Do you know Jorah?”
Releasing my hand, he gestures for me to enter the dark corridor. “Who is Jorah?”
I study his expression, but he has tucked away any hint of the man who just touched me with so much care. “Never mind.”
Awkward silence descends as we walk down the long corridor. At least it’s awkward for me. I don’t know how he feels about everything I just told him. I don’t want to know.
Liar.
I push that little voice away and move faster. It’s eerily silent, with few aether lamps to guide the way. This corridor is unerringly narrow, forcing us to turn sideways in places to squeeze through. The walls are lined with old, dry stone that’s cracked in places, and I swear I can hear the faint sound of whispering voices.
If I was alone, I would be crawling out of my skin. Tiernon’s looming presence helps calm the worst of my nerves. If anything attacks, I’ll leave him to it and run like hell.
That kiss … I know what that kiss was.
It was a goodbye. Bitterness coats my mouth. At least this time, I know the goodbye is coming. At least it won’t be a shock, an ache that never leaves me. At least I won’t delude myself into imagining it’s just temporary, and that I’ll see him again.
Perhaps, a few times a year, Tiernon will relive that kiss and think of me. But he’ll still move on, with his friends and his life and his role as Primus for the same emperor responsible for so much agony for so many people.
Telling him everything that happened to me has made me relive those dark days. And reliving them has relit the fires of my
rage.
Silence stretches between us.
We used to spend hours in silence. Content silence. Comfortable silence. The kind of silence two people have when they don’t need to share their thoughts, because the other person knows them down to the bone.
At least I’d thought we had that.
“I didn’t want to leave you,” Tiernon says as he stops suddenly a few steps in front of me.
I let his words hang in the air for a long moment. “Then why did you?”
No reply.
My laugh is saturated with hurt. “Forget it.”
He makes a rough, impatient sound, and I’m suddenly sure this is it. He’s going to apologize. Tell me why he left. Give me something.
Instead, he sighs, stepping forward into the dim light and pressing some hidden contraption within the wall.
Disappointment wars with fury. I lean into the fury, stalking past him and out into cool, crisp air so soon after sunset.
The chill feels good against my flushed, overheated skin. I gulp it into my lungs and turn, avoiding Tiernon’s eyes as he
leads me onto the street.
The world feels suddenly too big, after so long within either the ludus or the arena. Even when we traveled to the imperial palace, we used underground tunnels.
Unlike the Thorn, there are no insulae here in this part of the city. The wealthy would never dream of living in apartments, and I can’t help but gawk as we walk past sprawling estates, large domus, and gated villas.
That’s what wealth truly gives you. Space.
“Are these the emperor’s houses?” I ask.
Tiernon shakes his head. “They’re mostly owned by the Vampire Council and Sigilmarked Syndicate and their relatives.”
“It’s so quiet around here.” That’s another thing wealth gives you. Peace.
“We’re lucky. Many of the guards who usually patrol this area were called to the assembly. Tiberius Cotta is trying to sway the sigilkeepers to vote for his reforms.”
Tiberius’s face appears in my mind, his eyes crinkled as he talked about growing up in the Thorn. One day, I hope I’ll get the opportunity to thank him for the parma that saved my life in the arena. “What kind of reforms?”
Tiernon gives me a look, but I narrow my eyes at him. Right now, I’ll take any distraction I can get.
“He’s attempting to gain support for mundanes. He wants them to have the right to vote.”
I gape at him. Years ago—long before my mother was born—every citizen of the empire had the right to vote. Then, without warning, it was taken away. That’s the thing about rights—you don’t realize you’ve taken them for granted until one day, you wake up, and they’re no longer a right. They’re a privilege reserved for other people.
“Do you think it will happen?”
His wide shoulders roll in a dismissive shrug. “The Sigilmarked Syndicate and Vampire Council are supposed to represent the interests of the people—including mundanes. I doubt they’ll support Cotta’s attempt to reduce their power in any shape or form. Besides, the emperor took the vote from mundanes as a punishment for their attempted uprising. It’s unlikely he’ll return that right, even if the Syndicate vote to bring the bill to his attention.”
He’s right. Tiberius’s reforms are likely mostly performative. And yet, for the first time, I feel a hint of hope for this empire. It helps to know that people like Tiberius Cotta are fighting for a better, fairer existence for the most powerless among us. Even if I won’t be here to see it.
“Did you know he sponsored me?” I murmur.
Tiernon gives me a sharp look. “He did?”
“The training parma I was using would have shattered when I fought Maximus. Tiberius’s parma saved my life. He gave me a new sword too.”
I fall quiet as we walk through the wealthiest neighborhoods in the city, both of us heavily cloaked, Tiernon using his superior senses to ensure we don’t cross the paths of any city wardens.
Each time we pause to let the wardens pass, I breathe in the scent of greenery from the huge trees lining each street. I let my gaze take in the flowers, imagining the sight of them during the day. The statues of gods on each corner make it clear which neighborhoods are home to vampires, and which mostly contain sigilmarked.
“The Thorn must have been a shock to you after growing up amid such luxury,” I mutter when Tiernon gestures for me to continue walking. “Is that why you decided to sneak away in the first place? You wanted a look at how the poorest of us live?
Or was it some form of rebellion against your father?”
He’d told me his father was a wealthy merchant—often busy, and rarely present in his son’s life. Occasionally, Tiernon would come to me, shoulders hunched, eyes dead. On those days, I knew his father had taken an interest and had found his son wanting.
Once, when I’d wept over my own fatherless state—and my mother’s inability to tell me who he was—Tiernon had gently wiped the tears from my cheeks, insisting that it was better to have no father at all than one who regretted your very existence.
He’d taken solace in his brother, until even that relationship had turned bitter.
Tiernon stares straight ahead. “I’m not doing this with you.”
I let out a mocking laugh. “Of course you’re not. That would require honesty, and we both know you’re incapable of it.”
We’re close to the city walls, but I can barely see them through my blurry eyes. I blink away the tears.
I’m just tired. Tired and relieved. I’m done here. I’m going to see my brothers. And I’ll never see Tiernon again.
The city walls are notoriously well-guarded, but I should’ve known he had a plan in place. He lets out a low whistle as we approach, and I pull the hood of my cloak higher over my head as one of the guards appears.
“For your silence,” Tiernon murmurs, handing him a coin purse.
The guard’s eyes flicker toward me, and Tiernon tenses. The man immediately removes his gaze.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” he says, weighing the coins with a flick of his wrist. “Name’s Rionan if you ever need anything else.”
Tiernon gives him a stiff nod. “Thank you.”
Surprise flickers through Rionan’s eyes. “You’re welcome.”
Rionan melts back into the shadows of the wall, and Tiernon hands me a sack of coins. I wish I could throw it in his face, but I’m not an idiot. I don’t know how long I’ll need to hide with my brothers before the emperor finally loses interest in a missing gladian.
“Head north,” he says. “If your brothers don’t manage to escape in the morning, I’ll send word when I find out where they
are.”
“Thank you. One more thing—”
“Leon. I know. I’ll get him out too.”
My shoulders relax. Leon will tell Tiernon it was Bran who bonded me. And I know Tiernon will ensure Bran can’t contact Elva until after I’ve reunited with Evren and Gerith.
I wait expectantly. Slowly, realization trickles through my mind. He’s not going to apologize. Not going to offer any explanation. This is really it.
His eyes meet mine. They’re blank and cool.
With a final glance at the man who shattered my heart, I pick up what’s left of my tattered dignity and step outside the city walls.
Agony blazes across my neck and I fall to my knees with a howl.
