Dark, venomous green eyes meet mine. “Fine. If he’s the one you want, have him.”
The voicing of his jealousy sends me spiraling. The danger to Robin.
No one was supposed to know.
My hand comes away slowly, and I look to the floor. I don’t want to see his reproach; I owe him nothing. And I’m afraid I’ll end him if he stays another second.
Maybe he knows that too, because he doesn’t even pause, the slow sound of his footsteps echoing up the corridor and away from us.
A silence so thick it could drown us both engulfs the room.
Myriad thoughts race through my mind, pressing in on all sides. Jason, the threat, Cas, escape, death and death and death, the Emperor, if the sponsors find out, the crowds, the sand, the blood and more blood, and at the end of it all, the Deathball, waiting for me.
Home.
Atrea.
Robin.
My knees hit the floor hard, but I don’t feel it. Kneeling down at his bedside, all the world is the press of his fingers to my lips as I kiss them, once and feverishly.
“I’ll send for you tonight.”
I don’t hear his reply; the world, the tick of time, life itself ebbs away, taking all sense and reason with it as I strike down the hall away from him.
Everything, all of it, but the touch of Robin to my lips.
Atrea.
Robin.
Chapter sixteen
Marco: All the Breath I Can't Take
“Marco Verus. Hijo de Tomás y Lydia. Hermano de Lucas.”
It’s been years since I’ve heard those names spoken aloud. My parents. My brother. No longer the fantasy I keep locked away in the cage of my heart, protected from this vile place.
He brought them out into the open. He knows them. He knows me.
For the millionth time, I resolve to stop pacing, to sit and wait patiently. I’ve given Maria strict instructions to stay in her quarters overnight, and sent the guards for Robin. They’re to bring him after lights out, when the other men are sleeping.
It doesn’t look good, not for either of us. But it’s the only way.
It’s not that I’m banned from having anyone here. But the sponsors like me to look available—an obtainable object of desire—and the Emperor likes me to be his lapdog.
Public favor is almost everything here, outdone only by private favor.
None of that gels with me taking teammates home.
There’s a clank of chains by the door, and I almost jump out of my skin rushing to open it. All three faces display how taken aback they are when I rip the thing open before they’ve even knocked.
One of the guards lowers his head too slowly to hide his smirk.
That’s fine. Let him think we’re fucking. Let him think Robin’s no more than a late-night urge. So long as he doesn’t tell anyone important about it, I’ll cope.
I snatch the key to Robin’s restraints, passing some money over to the guards in exchange.
