My teeth ground together at the relief in her tone. “I couldn’t do anything else. I saw you in that guard’s hands.” I paused to raise my head and run my fingertip over the faint knife mark on her throat. “I saw his knife and the mark it had created. I saw in Master’s eyes that he would order your throat to be slit.” I stilled, then on a sigh, admitted, “I couldn’t let it happen.” I tapped the spot over my heart again. “In here. It hurt too much in here.”
152 didn’t react to what I had said. She didn’t move. For a minute I believed she had sincerely wanted me to let her die. Then she shifted her knees closer to mine and, leaning forward, pressed her lips to my forehead. My breathing came quick and fast.
Her unique scent drifted up my nose. Filling my lungs, I had to force my hands not to reach up and pull her closer to me. When 152 moved back, I instead ran my finger down her face and said, “You are beautiful.”
Her eyes widened, as if she could not believe those words had come from my mouth. When my eyebrows dragged down in confusion, she revealed, “I didn’t think you liked me. I didn’t think I appealed to you.”
I reared back in shock, my shoulders hitting the cold wall behind me. My hand fell to the floor. 152 shifted closer and implored me to answer with her blue stare.
Fighting against my instinct to push her away, I replied, “I want you. I … like you. Too much. I wish I did not.”
A small gasp left her mouth. Reaching down, she picked up my hand in hers. I watched, rapt, as she brought it to her mouth and pressed three long kisses to my broken skin. I sucked in a sharp breath, waiting for what she would do next.
She lowered our joined hands until they had fallen to her knees. She said, “I want you, too. I like you, too. Very much.”
With those spoken words, I knew something within me had broken. I could feel the wall around my heart crumble. And I also knew that there would be no more hiding, no more fooling myself that I could be unaffected by her.
My want for her was as real as any match I had ever fought. It was as dangerous, too. 140 was right. Master had me exactly where he wanted me. His plan had worked perfectly. It should have fueled my constant rage. Instead it filled me with light.
Her eyes fluttered to stare at me, and she said, “And I also think you are beautiful.” The blush from her cheeks spread to her neck and down over her chest. “I am not sure if a female declares that to a male, but I think it nonetheless.”
152 picked up the needle and thread from the floor. She tried to pull our joined hands apart, but I held on. She looked up at me, confused that I wasn’t letting go. I wasn’t sure. I just didn’t want to.
Clearly seeing this in my expression, she smiled and said, “Let me tend to your wounds. You need to close the harmed flesh, then you need to bathe.”
I reluctantly let go. 152 shifted to my side and cleaned my gashes with the warm, wet towel. She moved to every cut and sealed them shut, cleaning the blood from my skin.
When she was done, I walked to the shower to wash the remnants of the fight away. As the water hit my head, all I could think of was 152 caring for me, cleaning me … smiling at me.
I wanted to smile at her, too.
Turing off the shower, I dried myself off, then entered the sleeping room. When I searched for 152, I found her sitting back in the corner of the room, her knees tucked against her chest.
My heart fell. She was so small and delicate huddled on the floor. She watched me move to the bed. As I slumped down, I took a deep breath. Then I held out my hand. 152’s eyes widened.
It was several seconds before she timidly got to her feet and made her way to where I sat. Her hand landed in mine, and she froze. I shifted back on the narrow mattress and guided her down. She lay beside me, still looking at me in surprise.
Finding myself suddenly racked with nerves, I said gruffly, “No more sleeping in the corner for you. If you’re in this cell, then you’re in my bed. You’ll be sleeping right next to me.”Tears filled 152’s eyes, but none fell. I waited for what she would say. But she simply squeezed my hand. My eyes were heavy, pulled under by sleep. When I woke later that night, 152 thrashing from the drugs, I rolled her onto her back and rid us of our clothes. As I pushed forward, wrapped in her heat, her eyes dilated with need, I wished that she wasn’t under the influence of the drug.
For the first time in my life, I wished that she were beneath me of her own accord. Wanting me inside her, taking her as a male takes a female.
Making her mine.
No drugs.
No mind games.
Just her and me, lost to the feelings. Two slaves, for one night freed from their Master’s chains.
10
152
“You’re smiling.”
I blinked, clearing myself from the trance I had become lost in. The steam from the heat of the water rose from my hot skin and bubbles surrounded every inch around me. When I looked to Maya, she was studying me.
Bringing my hand to my lips, I asked, “I am?”
She nodded suspiciously. “In fact, you’ve been different for the past few days.” She stared off into space as though racking her brain. When she looked back to me again, she added, “Since 901’s match.”
Instinctively, I raised my hand to my throat. The knife mark was fading, but the skin was still broken, still sore to the touch.
Maya’s face fell on seeing the mark. She had been worried about my throat since I had told her what they had made 901 do. I hadn’t told her of how he held me close as we slept. Of how he told me that he liked me, how he wanted me. How he thought I was more than Master’s whore. I didn’t know why I had kept that to myself. But I didn’t want to share it. It was sealed in my heart for only me to enjoy.
Maya’s head tipped to the side as she brought the sponge along my arm. “Did something happen over the past few days, miss? With 901?”
“What makes you say that?”
Maya sat back on her haunches. “You are acting different. Less closed in. More at peace, if such a thing can be achieved here.” She paused, then said, “You are like the champions’ monebi. The ones weaned off their drugs. They smile like you. They own a peace the others can’t gain. Just like you.”
Over the past few nights, 901 had healed. He had been excused from fighting, from leaving his cell. But I was still delivered to him every night. It was later than usual and I was collected first thing in the morning. There wasn’t much time for talking, but when I walked in the cell, he would immediately hold out his hand. I would take it as he guided me to his bed. We would fall asleep facing each other, until the drugs struck my veins and pulled me under. I would always wake later, flush against his chest.