Chapter 10 #3
I dried my hands on the threadbare towel hanging beside the basin and turned to face her. The rage was still there—still burning hot in my chest, still making my muscles tremble with the need to hit something, break something, kill something—but I had it locked down now. Controlled.
Barely.
I crossed the room and sat down next to her on the bed. Close enough that our thighs touched.
For a moment, I hesitated. Then I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. Her skin was warm. Soft. Real.
"He knows," I said quietly. "About the fact that I'm not... using you the way a normal fighter would use a prize."
Her breath hitched again. I felt her fingers tighten on mine.
"He said if I don't start treating you like a prize—if he doesn't see evidence that you're being properly used—he'll take you back."
The words hung in the air between us. I forced myself to continue.
"He'll give you to Hewes."
Merrilee's whole body went rigid beside me. I felt the way every muscle locked up, the way her breathing stopped, the how her hand went cold in mine.
"He said—" My voice came out rough, angry. The rage was bleeding through despite my effort to contain it. "He said Hewes has plans for you. Creative plans. The kind that involve a lot of screaming."
"What do we do?" Her hand started trembling in mine. Small, involuntary shakes that radiated up her arm.
"Persico wants evidence," I continued, my voice dropping lower. "Proof that you're being used. He wants me to treat you like every other fighter treats their prizes—like property to be broken and enjoyed."
The trembling in her hand spread to her whole body now. I saw it—the way her shoulders shook, the way her chest rose and fell too fast, the way her free hand gripped the blanket so hard her knuckles went white.
I turned to look at her and found her staring at the floor, her eyes wide and unfocused, her face pale as death.
"Merrilee—"
"We have to kill him." Her voice was barely a whisper. "We have to find Hewes and kill him before Persico can give me back."
"Yes."
She looked up at me then, and what I saw in her eyes made my chest constrict. Not just fear. Not just desperation.
Determination.
Fierce, burning, absolute determination.
"You've been searching for a way to get to him," she said. It wasn't a question.
"Roone and I have been working on it," I admitted. "On the days when I'm not in the arena, we've been trying to narrow down his location. Persico's compound is massive—three levels above ground, two below. Hundreds of rooms. Hewes could be anywhere."
"What have you found?"
"Nothing useful." The admission tasted like ash. "We've mapped the guard rotations, identified the high-security zones. But Hewes is a ghost. No one sees him. No one talks about him."
Her brow furrowed. "Someone has to be bringing him food. Water. Supplies."
"That's what we thought. But the servants who work the secure wings are rotated constantly. Different people every day."
"What about Persico's inner circle?"
"If they know something, but they're not talking. Roone's tried to get close to a few of them, but they're paranoid. Loyal." I ran my free hand through my hair, frustration coiling tight in my gut. "We've been at this for weeks, and we're no closer than when we started."
She was quiet for a moment, her eyes distant, thinking.
"I know him," she said finally. "Hewes wouldn't just hide away.
He's a control freak. He'd want to know his plans are moving forward.
" Her hand tightened on mine, and the trembling started to subside.
"I worked for him. I know how he thinks.
I know his patterns. He's holed up somewhere in Persico's compound, and I can help you find him. "
"It's dangerous—"
"I don't care." Her voice was stronger now. Steadier. "I'm already in danger. We both are. But if we find him—we can end this."
I studied her face, searching for any sign of hesitation. Any hint that she was agreeing out of fear rather than conviction.
But all I saw was resolve.
"It won't be easy," I said quietly. "And if something goes wrong—"
"Then we go down fighting." She shifted closer, her shoulder pressing against mine, her warmth seeping into my skin. "I'm not going to sit here and wait for Persico to decide my fate. I'm not going to let Hewes win. And I'm not going to let you carry this alone."
The rage that had been burning in my chest since I left Persico's throne room started to shift. Started to transform into something else.
Purpose.
Direction.
Hope.
"Okay," I said. My voice was thick. "Okay. We do this together."
She nodded, and I saw the fear still there in her eyes, but I also saw the steel beneath it.
"Tell me everything you know about Hewes," I said. "Every detail. Every pattern. Every place he might hide. We'll start there and work our way through until we find him."
"And then?"
"And then we kill him." The words came out flat. Final. "We end him and get out of Fange City."
She took a shaky breath, and I felt her lean into me—just slightly, just enough that I knew she was drawing strength from the contact.
"Together," she said softly.
"Together," I agreed.