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But her gaze strayed to the book, plotting how to steal it back.

Viola had tried to bank the fire inside her granddaughter and she’d failed. Lustful savagery called to Randa, thank Gaia. She’d been raised a lady, but she had a warrior inside of her that couldn’t be contained.

Years slipped by in the memories. Fleeting images of people and places. Kahn found he enjoyed the memory-sharing. He saw how his Match had come to be and it made him feel closer to her. There were moments he wished he could change for Randa, but mostly he saw good things. That was incredibly lucky.

Kahn watched Randa and Hekktor playing canasta, a decade after she’d declared him her Phase-Match. She seemed content with her quiet life, where she read as much barbarian poetry as she wanted and cooked fancy meals.

Hekktor was gray and frail, but there was a mischievous spark in his eyes. He won the game and then made a show of patting Randa’s hand in fake commiseration. Randa tossed down her cards in annoyance, but she was clearly amused by his antics. Shaking her head, she tucked a blanket over Hekktor’s knees to protect him from a draft.

She loved him.

Rather than feel jealous, Kahn experienced a surge of gratitude. She was safe and happy in Hekktor’s comfortable home, treating him like an aged father. He doted on her, as well. That was enough for Kahn to retroactively respect the old man. Since Kahn couldn’t be with her, he was glad she had someone to…

All his warm thoughts skidded to a halt.

Suddenly, he was no longer in a dreamy, nostalgic memory. This was vivid and cold. Anxiety spiked as Kahn realized he was in the Air House dungeon.

The stone cell was dark. Slime grew on the walls because of the dampness. Isaacs was sprawled in the middle of the floor, beaten to shit. His back was raw with bleeding slashes from a whip. Elementals healed quickly, but these wounds were festering. Like something had been done to make them last.

Kahn barely looked at the man. All his attention was on Randa. She was sitting very quietly in the corner, her legs bent up to her chest. A thick, plastic manacle was locked around her ankle. Her face was bruised, her dress torn, and her eyes blank.

Oh Gaia…

Kahn’s stomach dropped. “Randa.” He fell to his knees beside her. “Sweetheart, I’m here. I’m right here with you.”

She couldn’t hear him, of course. She just continued silently rocking herself.

The cell door clanged opened and someone shoved one bowl of beige gruel into the room.

“Looking good, Isaacs.” Saxon taunted. His neon mohawk was the only bright color in the space. “I’ll tell the boss you’re ready for the next round.”

Isaacs raised himself up on one arm. “I might be stuck in here, but eventually I’ll get out. You’ll always be trapped. You’re too stupid to even know you’re in a cage.” He grabbed the unappetizing meal. Then, he seemed to notice there was only one bowl. He looked Saxon’s way. These events were happening before he’d lost his eyesight, the snake-blue shade less milky but just as unsettling. “Where’s the woman’s meal?”

“I’m thinking she’ll be more cooperative if she’s hungry.” Saxon sent Randa’s silent form a smirk. “Let her work for her food.” He slammed the cell door, leaving them in the semi-dark.

The hatred Kahn felt for that sick fuck scorched his brain. He wanted Sax dead, the same way he’d once wanted Parald dead. It was an all-consuming, fiery compulsion for vengeance. The inferno burned so bright that it purified his thoughts, hardening them on one path. One monster to kill. He’d been robbed of his revenge against Parald, but, somewhere in the present, Saxon remained alive.

There was still an Air Phase monster left for Kahn to exterminate. …And he would. Soon.

Isaacs hesitated, glancing from his food, to Randa, and then back again. “Shit.” He hissed and went crawling over to her. “Here.” He ungraciously sloshed the bowl towards her. “Eat.”

Randa kept rocking. She didn’t even hear him.

Kahn shook off his rage, because his Match needed him. Even if she didn’t know he was there, he had to try. “Sweetheart, please. Try to eat something.”

“Woman?” Isaacs nudged her arm. “Hello?”

Nothing.

Tears burned Kahn’s eyes.

“Shit.” Isaacs repeated in resignation and maneuvered himself into a sitting position beside her. Cringing in pain, he lifted an arm. “Alright… we’ll do it the hard way.”

Randa made a sound of disgust and surprise, as he shoved a spoonful of food between her lips.

Kahn’s eyebrows shot up.

Isaacs’ not-so-tender ministrations jolted Randa from her daze. Kahn was grateful for that, even though she now looked irate. He’d rather see her mad than vacant.