A strange, cold sensation settles on the back of my neck. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“No. I see the Primus for a few hours each day. How could I possibly be sure?”
“Is there anything else you need to tell me?”
“White isn’t your color. You look like a corpse.”
Bran’s eyes widen and twin spots of pink appear on his cheeks. His hand twitches like he’s restraining himself from hitting me.
“Remember, it’s not just your life you’re fighting for tomorrow,” he snaps. “It’s the life of your brother as well.”
He stalks away. I watch him go. There’s something … different about him. The remote, aloof vampire I first met would never have come that close to lashing out.
LEON IS SPEAKINGwith Albion when I arrive at the training hall before my challenge the next morning. Albion looks tired and drained, while Leon’s expression is even harder than usual.
I reach down, swiping a training sword. “What’s wrong?”
“Another gladian was found dead this morning,” Leon says. “Her name was Sochal.”
Tolva’s friend. My heart sinks. A woman was missing. A woman who slept in the same barracks as me, and I didn’t even notice.
Albion runs a hand over his face. “Something must be done about this.”
Leon merely picks up a shield, handing it to me. “Warm up for your challenge.”
I curse him out while I do my laps.I’m trying, Kas, but your father is even more stubborn than he used to be.
My shield arm aches within my first few laps, but I focus on watching the others warm up. My stamina is slowly returning. While my arm still shakes, straining to hold my parma up, I actually enjoy the first half of my sprints.
An hour later, I’m walking down the long corridor between the ludus and the arena once more, my heart lodged firmly in my throat.
Baldric and Hester walk closely behind me, but I refuse to turn my head.
“I hope I get to fight you,” Hester says, purposefully stepping on the backs of my heels. “The emperor will probably give me his favor for killing you so quickly.”
“Quiet,” one of the enforcers orders. Unfortunately, Hester is smart enough to close her mouth.
We’re directed into one of the small holding rooms beneath the arena. Whatever the emperor has in store for us today, he wants it to be a surprise.
Even from here, we can hear the crowd roar.
But it’s not just the crowd that’s roaring.
“Is that … a lion?” Kaeso asks.
A symphony of screams cuts through the sound of the crowd. High-pitched, and pain-filled. The screams of the dying.
I catch Hester’s smile, and it takes everything in me not to shove my sword through her throat.
“It’s a manticore,” she says. “A special treat for those who refuse to bow to the emperor.” Her smile widens as her eyes meet mine. “I can’t wait to hearyourscreams.”
“Give it a rest,” Maeva mutters, and Hester turns her hate-filled gaze toward her. Her eyes light up, and I know why.
Dark circles are stark against the white of Maeva’s face. Her cheekbones seem sharper, her cheeks hollow, as if she’s stopped eating. She looks like one swing of a sword would take her down.
Guilt slices through me. After our harsh words the other day, we’ve mostly avoided each other. At least, I’ve avoided her. Each time I’ve thought about approaching her, I remembered the wounded look in her eyes, and the restrained disgust in her voice.
