“I...” She did know. Now. Her chin dipped slightly. So, he’d been right about the opium, but that didn’t mean—
He lifted a hand, beckoning her closer. An odd uncertainty fidgeted around his shoulders.
“What do you want?”
He lowered his voice. “We need to speak about Ilona.”
Her gaze went to Ilona, who was watching them with wide eyes even if she couldn’t hear them. “What about her?”
Felix swallowed. “She’s going to die.”
The breath left Adel’s lungs in a burst, as if he’d knocked it from her with his fists instead of his words. Her lips formed the silent worddie?Ilona didn’t have the look of one about to die.
“That isn’t possible.”
His fingers curved around her arm as he turned her toward the clinic. She shook his hand off. “Look at her. She’s sitting up. She’s fine. What sort of medicus are you?”
“I want to help her—”
“Then do it!”
“I... I need you.” He shifted. “She wants your consent.”
Consent? “For what? What are you not telling me?”
“You will not believe me.”
“Likely not.”
He sighed and crossed his arms, drilling her with a hard look. “Have I ever lied to you? Tried to take advantage of you?”
She crossed her arms back at him. “You made the guards hold me down last night.”
“So I could put salve on your wounds without you pulling a knife on me.”
He had a point.
“Fine. Tell me.”
“You’ll listen?”
She nodded. She would hear the words he said, at least. Whether or not she would believe them would be another matter.
“Ilona will recover, but not with enough time to train before the games.”
Adel searched his face. What was he saying? “You said she was going to die, and now you say she will recover?”
He swallowed. “She is no longer an asset to the ludus. And if she cannot fight...”
“Jovan will use her as a reward?” The realization soured her stomach. Ilonawoulddie. Just in spirit instead of in body.
“No.” Felix drew in a breath. “I have orders to kill her.”
“Why would Jovan make you do that?” The words left Adel’s lips on the barest of whispers. Her eyes shifted back and forth between his, as if reading everything he did not say, and then her throat bobbed in realization.
“Wulfula was telling the truth.” She lifted a hand and brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. “He said the Victory Games were going to be mortal combat and I did not believe him. I told the other women that he was wrong, that Jovan would never risk our lives like that...” She sucked in two deep breaths that seemed to do little to calm the pulse he could see pounding in her neck. “He wants her dead now because she will not win her match.”
Her world was shattering before his eyes, and he wished more than anything that he could hold it together for her. And yet, sometimes the best thing for another was earth-shattering truth.
