Page 44 of Her Manticore Master

Red rage floods my vision, but before I can move, guards separate us, shoving us toward different areas of the chamber. Just as well. Killing him now would serve no purpose except satisfying my fury.

But the promise is made. Touch her, even look at her wrong, and I'll paint these walls with his blood.

That evening, when they return us to our shared cell, Corrina approaches with careful steps. There's something different about her—a softness I haven't seen before, vulnerability wrapped in silk and uncertainty.

"You're bleeding," she observes, noting the fresh cuts from today's training exercises.

"It'll heal."

"Let me?—"

"I'm fine."

But she ignores my protests, producing torn strips of silk from somewhere in her dress. Her touch is gentle as she cleans and binds my wounds, fingers careful against damaged skin.

"There," she murmurs when she's finished. "Better."

"Thank you."

The simple courtesy seems to surprise her. She looks up, green eyes searching my face for something I'm not sure I want her to find.

"Ronan..."

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Whatever you're about to say. Don't say it."

Because I can see the softness growing in her eyes, the dangerous emotion that will get us both killed if Valdris suspects even a fraction of what passed between us.

"I wasn't going to say anything important."

"Good. Keep it that way."

But her small smile suggests she sees right through my walls, and that terrifies me more than any arena opponent.

The relative peace doesn't last. Heavy footsteps echo in the corridor outside, more guards than usual, and when our cell door opens, Thane's face carries unusual satisfaction.

"All gladiators to the arena," he announces. "Special exhibition."

"What kind of exhibition?"

"The kind that draws big crowds and bigger purses." His eyes shift to Corrina with predatory interest. "And you, pet. Master wants you there too."

Something cold settles in my stomach. "She's not a gladiator."

"No, but she's entertainment. And today, Master Valdris wants all his prizes on display."

"I won't let you?—"

"Let us?" Korven laughs harshly. "You seem to forget your place, beast. You don't let us do anything. You do what you're told, when you're told, or suffer the consequences."

More guards file into the corridor, crossbows visible and ready. Any resistance would be suicide, and they know it.

"It's alright," Corrina says quietly, though I can see the fear she's trying to hide. "I've been to the arena before."

"Not like this," Thane corrects with obvious relish. "Today's going to be... special."