“They’re not bad men. They’re just protective of their own. Tributes aren’t permitted anywhere near the family wings, and you were running directly there.”
“What’s their role in the Feast of the Fallen?”
“They own The Preserve, but I’m the host. It’s all me. I hire them to vet the participants and run security. I rent the grounds, but that’s as far as their involvement goes.”
“How many times have you done this?”
“This marks the tenth.”
Her eyes widened. “And it’s this big every year?”
“It varies, but one hundred is the average—fifty hunters, fifty tributes.”
“And you pay them—honestly? For each capture?”
The fact that she had to question his integrity stung, but he understood. “Every single one is paid. And if there’s ever an incident in question, I always favor the tribute’s side over the hunters.”
“How much?—”
“The last feast awarded one hundred and sixty-two million.”
“Jesus.” She gaped at such a number. “In one night?”
“In one night.”
She looked away and smiled.
It broke his heart because he wasn’t sure if this would be the last time he ever saw her look like that. So beautiful. Happy, somehow, in the midst of whatever this was.
When she returned her gaze to his, she said, “A bad man wouldn’t do that, Jack.”
She was wrong. He was a bad man, and he did it year after year. “When I found you tonight, out in the rain, I made a decision. This is going to be the last Feast of the Fallen.”
“Why?”
“Like everything that involves man and power, corruption eventually spreads.”
“But what about all the people you’re helping?”
He looked away. “Was I helping you tonight, when Welles hurt you?”
“That wasn’t your fault?—”
“All of this is my fault. I’m responsible for every tribute out there. I knew Welles was a red flag. I should have pulled him.”
She took his hand and gently traced the cut on his split knuckle. Slowly, she lifted his fingers to her lips and pressed a kiss. His breath caught as everything inside of him turned too heavy to carry.
She slid off the edge of the tub and lowered to the floor, sitting beside him. “What happened tonight was my fault. I knew he was dangerous, but I went back anyway.”
“Why did you?”
Her face pinched as she rubbed the hollow of her throat. “I lost something.”
The tributes only came with the items they were given at The Becoming. “What?”
“A locket—and before you lecture me about the rules, I knew we weren’t supposed to have personal items on us, but I didn’t care. I brought it anyway.”
“Why?”
