Robin’s silent as I pull at his restraints to lead him in. He’s clearly proven himself less of a threat to them, as his wrists are shackled in front this time, though they’re still tightly attached to that neck collar by a long and thick chain.
As soon as I lock the door behind us, I turn to him, working the wrist cuffs first. “Did they hurt you?”
“No.” His eyes follow the fast movements of my fingers—unlocking the cuffs, threading the chain out of them, up through the link attached to his collar. He leans his head back to give me better access, and I hate how sexual the movement is.
He doesn’t want me like that, ever again. He told me yesterday.
And I’m still smarting from that gut punch.
‘Remember this moment the next time your emperor is fucking you.’
Nausea shakes me as I pull the bronze chain loose, letting it slink to the floor. Sickness and shame.
It’s a thousand times worse today than it even was when he said it.
He knows who I am. He knows how I’ve fallen. The governor’s son, next in line to guide Atrea, now nothing but a whore—a hole for the highest bidder.
Survival.
He’s rubbing his wrists as I reach around his neck to unlatch the collar. Why does he let me do this? He could do it himself now I’ve unchained him.
I can’t stand to look into his eyes, but I feel them on me, searching for connection. I focus on the glinting metal tight across his throat.
‘Remember this moment the next time your emperor is fucking you.’
“Thank you for coming.” It’s a stupid thing to say. He had no choice. “This way.”
I lead him through to the lounge. Some wine in a decanter on the table, some ridiculous food. I don’t know what I was thinking. This isn’t a friendly meeting, some chit-chat to pass the time. This is my entire world held in the palm of a man who’s ashamed to even know me.
I take my place on the far side of the room, indicating the couch, but he stands and waits.
Where do I start something like this? My senses are drowning in the beating of my heart, the racing of my pulse, and I can barely see straight, even as I stare hard at the cream fabric rather than look at him.
“Marco?” he asks softly. “Marco Verus?”
When I dare to look, his face is as soft as his words, and my own spill out of me. “I am Marco Verus of Atrea, son of Lydia and Tomás, brother of Lucas.”
By the time I’ve finished the sentence, his wide eyes show his full alarm at the confirmation, but I speak on irresistibly. “I didn’t abandon them. I never would have left them, not for all the world.”
“They know that. Marco, they know.”
He drops to the couch, and I lunge forward, sinking to his side, desperate for more, holding myself back from taking his hands. “You know them? Robin, tell me, are they— You— Your people— Are you…” My voice fails as I try to stutter out the million questions I have for him.
He places a hand on the couch, so close to mine it’s almost as though he would consider touching me again. I crave it, ache for him, especially when the corner of his mouth pulls into a sad, soft, almost-smile.
Just for a second, it’s like yesterday never happened. As though all those days of Deathball training never came between us. For the first time intoo long, I feel like I’m not the prisoner they’ve made me. I’m just a man, talking to another man. On our own terms.
‘Remember this moment the next time your emperor is fucking you.’
My head drops, driven by the weight of his words.
“They knew.” His voice comes firm, his face close to mine. “Tomás was… he was a wonderful leader. He never stopped looking for you.”
The word lodges in my heart. “Was?”
A thousand emotions play over Robin’s face, too fast for me to capture any of them long enough to understand. The paling of his lips, the aversion of his eyes, the twitch in his cheek. Finally, that same slant of a smile, accompanied by the twist of his fingers. “It was the last I knew of him. Before I was taken.”
“You were taken…” I repeat, turning the thought over slowly, like there might be blood on the other side of it. “From where?” His brow draws tight in response. “Please tell me it was the mainland, like me. Please tell me…” I can’t voice more than that. I can’t even stand to say it.
