Barely perceptible, she whispers to me, “Robin.”
I take her hands, and she lets me. In our own mother tongue, I tell her, “You have two brothers now. I’m Marco, and I’ve sworn to protect you, just like he has. You’re safe. From now on. He’s coming to see you today.”
She wraps her slender arms so tight around my neck I can tell it’s the first hug she’s had since the last time she saw Robin. And I pull her in tight, stroking her matted hair, holding her trembling body, horrified that the single use of his name has gained me every ounce of this girl’s trust.
“Maria, please prepare a room for Esme. She’s going to be living with us. She’ll need clothes, a decent meal, her hair washed; she’ll need… just anything she wants. Anything at all.”
But all Maria gives back is a short and incredulous, “Robin?” When I make no reply, she steps over to Esme and strokes a gentle hand over her hair. “That boy’s going to get you killed, Marco.”
“I don’t care,” I reply, and it’s the truest thing I’ve said in years.
All I can think about is how happy Robin’s going to be when he sees Esme again. About how she’s safe, here and now, under my protection. How I’ve done this one good thing that means he will sleep at night, and so will she, even if I can’t.
I don’t care at all.
This is worth it.
He’s worth all of it.
Chapter twenty-seven
Robin: All the World and More
The dishes are stacked high on the long, rectangular table, remnants of a breakfast that tasted like sawdust in my mouth. Everyone’s ecstatic about no training today—laughter bounces off stone walls, voices bright with relief. All I feel is pain radiating from yesterday’s fight, muscles screaming protests with every shift.
My head still spins from that mutant lizard. The memory of its claws, the stench of rotting flesh, the way Marco moved beside me—fluid, deadly. If I ever get home, this will be the first thing I tell Jake and Tobias about. They’d never believe me. Never believe any of this.
My eyes slide to the dungeon door for the millionth time, wondering if Marco will come here anyway today. Maybe if I will it hard enough, I can make him materialize. My desperation to see him reaches new levels with every minute that passes.
Is he in as much pain as I am? Is he thinking of me? Wishing I were with him?
Will he come?
Will he come?
Will he come?
Some of the others are trying to organize an escorted walk around this section of the city. Their excited chatter grates against my skull. I just want them to fuck off so my aching body and I can die in peace.
“Robin.”
“What?” I snap at Cas.
“Mate. Seriously. What the fuck is going on with that collar?”
I blink rapidly, turn to him. My hand flies to the bronze ring around my neck. “What, this?”
“No, the other slave collar you’re wearing,” Cas deadpans. “Did you sleep with that thing on?”
I didn’t, but it was next to my head on my pillow. And it was the first thing I put back on this morning, like it’s a piece of me now.
“Well? You going to take it off? Your match is over now.” He nudges me. “You get to chill for weeks, unlike me.”
He’s joking, but fear cracks through his voice. He shuffles his burned arm unconsciously—still a mangled mess of flesh. Partly because he didn’t let Evander help with the dressings properly. Stubborn bastard.
The dungeon door bursts open.
“Shore! You’re wanted.”
