"What I do with my prize is my business."
"Wrong again." Persico's voice hardened. "What you do with anything in my city is my business. And when one of my fighters starts acting like he's got a conscience? That becomes very much my concern."
My jaw clenched so hard I felt my teeth grind together. I forced myself to breathe. To stay still. To not react.
"I don't believe in rape," I said flatly.
Persico's laugh was like boulders shifting together—harsh and grating and utterly without humor. The sound echoed off the metal walls, amplified by the acoustics of the room until it felt like it was coming from everywhere at once.
"Oh, that's rich. That's fucking rich." He slapped one massive hand against the armrest of his throne, and the impactsent a shudder through the metal. "You come to my city, you fight in my pits, you win my prize, and you're going to lecture me about morality?"
"I'm not lecturing you about anything." My voice was controlled. Measured. But I felt the rage building in my chest like pressure behind a dam. "I'm telling you what I will and won't do."
"And that's where you're wrong."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop despite the heat from the forge. Persico's voice went cold. The kind of cold that meant someone was about to die.
"Everything that happens in Fange City is under my purview. Every fight. Every prize. Every decision you make about what you do with what you've won. That's all mine." He leaned forward again, close enough that I saw the way his fangs gleamed in the firelight. "You don't get to decide how you use your prize. I do. And if I decide you're not using her properly, I take her back."
My hands curled into fists before I could stop them. I felt my nails dig into my palms, felt the sharp bite of pain as skin broke. The rage was a living thing now, clawing at my chest, demanding release.
"She's my prize," I said. My voice was rough. Strained.
"She's your prize because I allow her to be." Persico settled back into his throne, and the casual dismissal in the gesture made something snap inside me. "I've known you for a long time, Ahrick. Long enough to know that you don't do anything without a reason. You didn't come to Fange City to fight in the pits for entertainment. You didn't win that human female because you wanted a plaything."
My right hand twitched toward my hip—toward where a weapon would've been if I'd been allowed to carry one. Themovement was instinctive, automatic, and I caught myself half a second too late.
Persico saw it. His eyes tracked the motion, and his fangs showed in something that might have been a smile.
"Careful," he said softly. "You're not armed. And even if you were, you wouldn't make it three steps before my guards put you down."
"Maybe I feel sorry for her," I said. The words came out rough. Barely controlled. "Maybe I don't want to see her hurt."
The closest to the truth I'd spoken since this conversation began.
Persico studied me for a long moment, and I saw the calculations happening behind his eyes. He was trying to figure out what angle I was working. What game I was playing. What leverage he could use.
"You like her," he repeated slowly. His tone was thoughtful. Considering. "That's interesting actually. Because the Ahrick I remembered didn't care about anything except the next mission. The next target. The next kill."
"People change."
"Do they?" He tilted his head, and the movement was predatory. Calculating. "Or do they just get better at hiding who they really are?"
I didn't answer. Couldn't trust myself to speak without the rage bleeding through.
"Here's the thing," Persico said, his tone taking on a note of finality that made my stomach drop. "That human female isn't a princess. She's not some delicate flower that needs protecting. She's a prize, and prizes are meant to be used. Enjoyed." He leaned forward, and his voice dropped to something obscene. "And if you're not going to use her the way a normal fighter would—if you're going to keep her locked up in that room likeshe's something precious instead of fucking her bloody the way she deserves—then she has no value to me."
My vision went red at the edges.
Kill him.
The thought was so clear, so visceral, that for a moment I saw it. Felt my hands closing around his throat. Heard the satisfying crack of his windpipe collapsing. Watched the light fade from those black eyes as he realized he'd pushed me too far.
I could do it. I'd almost done it before. I was fast enough, strong enough, angry enough.
But Persico had guards. Dozens of them armed with blasters. And if I killed him, they'd kill me.
And then Merrilee would be alone.
