Maximus’s eyes are cold and clear. He sweeps his gaze over my body, his eyes lingering on my ankle.
Either someone told him about my little weakness, or he has been paying excruciatingly close attention.
My heart rattles my ribs, and the rest of the world falls away.
“Fight!” someone roars, and Maximus launches himself at me.
I dodge and he swipes at me again, but his second strike is just for show. The crowd screams, and he grins, already caught up in the thrill of his performance.
I keep my grip loose on the hilt of my own sword, watching his chest.
His shoulder twitches forward, and I lunge left. His sword swings wide.
“Fight me!” he shouts, slamming his sword against his parma. Smart choice. He doesn’t have Titus’s bulk, and he knows I don’t have enough strength to justify him needing a larger shield.
When he swings his sword once more, I’m forced to meet it with my own parma, the force thundering down my arm and into my shoulder.
My training parma would have cracked like an egg beneath that blow. Tiberius Cotta just saved my life.
Maximus was expecting me to dodge once more, and he’s off-balance, his side unprotected. I snap my foot out, kicking him in the stomach, and he stumbles back with a pained grunt.
I follow him, but he recovers instantly, baring his teeth as he raises his shield.
“I know a little about you, you know,” he calls to me.
“I’m not here to chat.”
“I know you fought in this arena not all that long ago. And I know your friend died. How did that feel?”
So it’s not just my physical weaknesses he’s taken the time to learn. Taunting me about Kassia in this arena is clever, I’ll give him that.
Keeping my expression blank, I tilt my head. “How do you think it felt?” I ask him curiously.
He blinks, his jaw tightening as our eyes lock. A moment of perfect understanding stretches between us.
“Fight!” someone roars again.
“You know, I could’ve liked you,” Maximus says. “But I’ve got too much on the line.”
“I could’ve liked you, too, but you fight too dirty.” Bringing Kassia into this was underhanded.
Shame flickers across his expression. “Fair enough.”
His face is tight with resolve now. Resolve and determination.
We’ve worked our way toward the south end of the arena. Just steps from where Kassia … where—
Maximus slices at me. I dodge, but Kassia is standing in the arena, staring at me, her eyes fractured.
All I can hear is the sound of Leon’s scream—as if he’s the one who has been run through—his voice louder than even the jubilant roar of the crowd. But then I hear more sounds.
Galia Voker’s low laugh. And her own screams as she realizes she’s also dead.
Kassia’s blood bubbles from her lips as Leon claws at his tunic, ripping it from his body and pressing it to her chest.
Her eyes meet mine.
Leon holds her to him and rocks, howling like a wounded animal.
