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Chapter Sixteen

C allie

All three Committee members materialize, their combined presence immediately signaling the importance of this moment. Spark hovers anxiously between Aries and me, its usual bright colors muted to a concerned lavender.

“Phase Three requires complete openness,” they intone. “You will both experience the memory through Aries’ perspective—his thoughts, his feelings, his choices. Are you prepared?”

Aries’ hand finds mine, squeezing gently. His palm feels clammy. It doesn’t surprise me. In fact, I wonder if this will be harder on him than me.

The memory field activates, reality blurring around us. Spark presses close as everything dissolves into the past.

The first sensation is overwhelming—rage and helplessness warring in Past-Aries’ chest as he watches the guards march us down the corridor.

Through his eyes, I see myself stumble past each cell, trying not to stare at the alien creatures within. His enhanced hearing picks up every terrified heartbeat, every muffled sob .

Not again , his thoughts rage. Not another innocent forced to suffer because of these monsters.

When they shove Past-me into his cell, Past-Aries catalogs every detail with brutal clarity—my trembling hands, the fear-scent rolling off me in waves, the way I try to make myself smaller against the bars. His instincts scream to protect, to shield, but he knows that’s impossible.

The loudspeaker’s announcement hits him like a physical blow. One hour to mate or die. His hands clench, nails pricking his palms as he fights to maintain control.

“My name is Callie,” Past-me says, voice shaking but chin lifted. His respect blooms instantly at my courage, even in terror.

“Aries,” he responds, keeping his voice low and calm despite the fury churning inside. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

His thoughts race: How to make this bearable? How to give her some sense of control when we have none? How to touch her without adding to the trauma?

A scream echoes from another cell—someone testing the guards’ resolve. Past-Aries flinches at the sound of the pain collar’s activation, memories of his own torture flooding back.

We’re so connected in this moment that I feel his remembered pain, instantly knowing what the pain/kill collar feels like at high levels, although I’ve only felt it for a moment once, at the lowest level.

I knew he was pressed into the gladiator arena, knew he’d never wanted it, but never knew the poor male had been tortured.

“We can’t wait much longer,” he forces himself to say, hating every word. But better to face it now than risk the guards’ intervention. He’s seen what happens when they get impatient.

When Past-me nods, tears falling, a visceral anguish breaks inside him.

His face contorts with a pain that transcends the physical—this is soul-deep torment.

I feel it now as if it were my own: his desperate need to protect me warring with the knowledge that he can’t shield me from what must happen.

The way his eyes briefly squeeze shut, his jaw clenching so hard I can see the muscle jump beneath his bronze skin. When he looks at me again, something has fractured behind those golden eyes—some final barrier between the male he was and the one circumstances forced him to become.

“Just… please be gentle?”

I’ll try. He nods, though he knows the circumstances are so brutal that nothing will take the pain out of what’s going to come next in that bed. But how can anything about this be gentle? How can I touch you without becoming one of them?

As I watch the pair in the memory inch their way to the tiny bed, narrower than a twin, I hear snatches of his thoughts.

She’s a pretty thing… face shaped like a heart.

He turns his head as I disrobe and climb into bed. I recall feeling like a condemned woman going to her death, but now as I see myself through his eyes, I hear, Her hair shines even in the low, red light from the exit signs.

He’s focusing on details, I see now, to avoid the enormity of the big picture.

He turns his back and pulls off his loincloth. I remember shivering at that, terrified of the power and strength those slabs of muscles held. Fearful that he could choke me with barely a squeeze of one hand.

I can’t take her in the normal way. Can’t look at the pain on her face. Can’t watch the emotional effects of what I’m about to inflict.

“Turn over. It will be easier.” Yes. Easier for me… I’m such a coward I don’t deserve to breathe air .

As I turn, I catch how his eyes slam shut, not simply closing, but clamped hard against… what he must do.

You’re a dracker , Aries. You should burn in pain for eternity for doing this.

As he grips my hips, so softly I barely feel it, a thought flies through his mind: Her skin is soft as flower petals.

His disgust at himself strikes me as hard as a storm wave crashing onto shore, just as I hear his present-day sigh and feel his hand clutching mine like a lifeline.

He took me gently, just as he promised, though his cock was huge. He did his business, whispered, “I’m sorry,” and rolled off me. After putting on his loincloth, he sat on his haunches against the metal wall at the back of our cell for the rest of the night.

His self-loathing is so bitter, it’s as though I can taste it as he berates himself all night, even as the other part of his mind feels empathy for what he imagines that was like for me.

Past-me didn’t realize she was crying until a big, fat tear rolled down my face and plopped on my breast.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, the words inadequate against the weight of what happened. “I’m so sorry.”

Past-Aries’ thoughts spiral: Should have found another way. Should have fought harder. Should have died rather than hurt her. But they threatened to kill us both if we didn’t complete the act.

The walls begin building then—thick barriers of ice between his heart and the world.

Better to be cold, distant, unfeeling. Better to become someone she couldn’t possibly care for than risk her developing feelings for someone who hurt her—and was sick enough to enjoy it enough to release inside her .

Let her hate me, he thinks as the barriers rise. Better hatred than the alternative.

The memory ends, returning us to our cottage. Neither of us speaks for long moments. Spark wraps us in waves of soothing light, its color a deep, understanding blue.

“You didn’t hurt me,” I finally admit, my voice rough. “You were so careful, so gentle—”

“Don’t.” His hand goes rigid in mine. “Please don’t make excuses for what I did.”

“It’s not an excuse. It’s understanding.” Turning to face him fully, I see pain flaring behind his eyes. “You thought being cold would protect me, but all it did was leave us both alone with our pain.”

“I couldn’t bear it,” he admits, voice breaking. “Seeing you try to be brave, knowing what they were forcing on you. Knowing I had to… had to…”

“Had to survive,” I finish gently. “We both did. And maybe that’s what we need to remember—we survived. Together. What happened in that cell was consensual .”

That last word popped out, but now that it’s been said, it feels so right, so true, that I repeat it.

“Consensual. Two people agreed to participate in that act. The only difference was that I could lie there and try to fly away in my mind, and you had to perform. Out of the two of us, you got the worst end of the deal.”

“No, I—”

I interrupt him and let my thoughts hurtle out of my mouth rapid-fire before he manages to take more of the blame or say he’s sorry one more time.

“Your attempts to protect me locked your heart away. For five years,” I say with such vehemence it shocks me, “I vilified you, hated you for your callous behavior. And all along, it came from the… ”

I pause as I choke up, “From the most compassionate place. I’ll tell you one thing, Aries.” I spear him with my most serious look.

“I never want to hear you apologize again. In fact—”

He interrupts, but I cut him off.

“Let me finish!” Wow, that came out so harsh. “I don’t want to hear one more apology, Aries. In fact, I want you to hear me when I apologize right now.”

Spark’s colors shift rapidly between deep purple and anxious green, unable to settle on a single hue as it senses the emotional turmoil between us.

“I apologize for freezing you out, Aries. I was hardhearted and stiff-necked and cruel, and I should have shown at least a tenth of the compassion you showed me. So, I apologize from the bottom of my heart for hurting you so deeply for such a long time.”

His mouth is hanging open, moving slightly as though he’s trying to figure out what to say but doesn’t have a clue.

“I’d love to start over, Aries. Frankly, if this happened in any other circumstance, I wouldn’t have the guts to ask for your compassion—I don’t deserve it.”

I want to look away, avoid his eyes, but I force myself to brave whatever’s there. He’s still stunned, eyes wide.

“But we’re here, locked in together for months, and there’s a lot riding on this. So, yeah, when you’re ready to put this behind you, let me know. And don’t worry, I don’t expect your forgiveness. You’re a terrific person, but even a saint would have a hard time forgiving me.”

He pauses. The silence goes on long enough that my heart begins to ache. Would he really rather fail this challenge than accept my apology ?

“Your apology is unnecessary, but I accept it anyway. I can’t forgive you because in my mind, Callie, there’s nothing to forgive.”

We simply stare into each other’s eyes for long moments. Thoughts and emotions are whirling within me so rapidly I honestly don’t know what I’m thinking or feeling right now.

“It’s almost unbearable not to hold you in my arms, Callie.

I wish I could. I hate to admit it, but perhaps these stupid rules will work to our benefit.

We have months to learn how to communicate, months to work together, months to let what happened in that cell fade to the far corners of our minds. ”

“And in the meantime, we can learn to be friends,” I chime in, though the way my body responds to his nearness makes a lie of my words. I want more than friendship.

Although we’ve shared so many truths this week, now is not the time for me to share that particular truth.