He has a sister, and I care.
He has a home, and I care.
And if I care, I lose the battle.
If Victora has taken Atrea, if they have my mother, my brother, my father, I can help. I’m the champion. I have the Emperor’s favor. I can return to them with more power than anyone else could wield, and I could save them.
Save them from what?
If they didn’t win that battle, my father is surely dead. My mother… a ‘housekeeper’ like Maria? Or worse? A brothel? Some soldier’s slave?
A cold sweat slinks across my skin, and I slip from beneath Robin’s too-hot arm.
My brother, enslaved somewhere. How long would he last in the mines? Breaking rocks? If they sent him away, there should be a record. If they took Atrea…
I need to get back.
My family might be depending on me.
And here I am, taking this risk, about to lose the Emperor’s favor.
Losing my grip on the game.
All for this man who told me exactly what he thinks of me yesterday.
I want him.
I want Robin.
I want him with everything in me.
Which is why he needs to go.
The sky is turning purple when Robin stumbles into the lounge. I’m drenched in sweat, breathing hard, my arms shaking from the workout. I haven’t stopped since I left him. I need to get stronger. “Finally up, baby bird?”
“Yeah, sorry. I slept better than I thought I would.” He drags his hair out of his eyes while I reach for a towel to soak up the sweat, pressing it to my face to block out his rugged beauty.
Fresh from my sheets, a sight I’d kill to wake up to every day.
But I won’t die for it. I won’t sacrifice my family for it.
“Put your top on. I’m calling the guards.”
“What?” He throws an anxious glance toward the door. “Already?”
“What do you think this is? You thought you might stay for breakfast?”
“Marco—”
“Guards!”
They’re fast, the handle of the door I already unlocked rattling, the clank of Robin’s chains that I left discarded on the tiles behind it jangling. I snatch up my water to keep myself occupied while Robin dives for his tunic. It’s still on the floor by the couch where he took it off last night, where he fucked me, where we said all those things. Things I’ll never say to him again.
“Just like that?” he mutters, head down, clasping the buckles of his tunic. “After everything?”
“Sorry, how rude I’ve been.” His eyes meet mine across the room, dark, angry, exactly as they should be. “Thank you for last night. It was… adequate.”
His furious eyes flare. Between clenched teeth he grits out, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
