I heard the crunch of bone breaking. I used the brief slackening of his grip on the chain to wrench the metal from his hands and throw it across the pit. I wasn’t sure how far it went, but I didn’t have a chance to check as my opponent flipped me onto my back and straddled my waist. His hands circled my throat. He squeezed, again cutting off my air supply. I kicked my legs to try to throw him off. He held fast.

Black spots began filling the limited vision I had. My eyes began to close. I wanted to let go. I wanted, in that moment, to give in to the darkness. But as my mind cleared, on the brink of death, my female’s pretty smiling face filled the void. Her face as I took her, both of us choosing to join because we wanted it. Then I pictured her being hit by Master, him throwing her in front of him to protect his sorry ass.

I couldn’t leave her alone.

Blinking my eyes open, I moved my limp hand that was lying beside me. I began dragging close to try to fight my opponent off, when my palm ran over cold steel. My heart thundered with hope as I managed to grip the handle. Hand shaking, I trusted my muscles to help me end this match.

I searched for a deep breath, but it was impossible to breathe. Knowing I was on the verge of blacking out, I used the remainder of my strength to lift my Kindjal and aim for my opponent’s head. The blade jammed against something hard, and when his fingers released my neck and warm liquid sprayed over my face, I knew I had sliced through his skull.

The fighter’s body slumped to the side, and the roar of the crowd became deafening. I gasped for breath, my throat burning as I dragged in much-needed air. But I couldn’t move. My muscles were exhausted, the drug finally taking control.

I wasn’t sure how long I lay there, but arms wrapped around me, lifted me from the floor, and began dragging me from the pit. Before I reached the tunnel, I found enough strength to turn my head to the stands, to where Master sat. He was watching me go with fury in his stare, but 152 was staring at me in relief. I thought I had smiled at her, but as the drugs took me under, I couldn’t be sure.

But my female had.

She had gifted me her secret smile away from the watchful eye of our Master.

One given freely.

Only for me.

Only ever me.

13

152

I hadn’t been sure before this moment that a heart could beat so fast yet almost break apart at the very same time. As I had watched 901 collapse into the pit, bloodied and unable to find strength, I knew that Master had hurt him, drugged him somehow. Hurt him because he had tried to save me, save me from the two champions that had attacked.

Nausea built in my throat when I thought back to the moment that Master had ordered the guard to slit 667’s mona’s throat. Her lifeless eyes as the body fell to the floor, the floor swimming in her blood. And 901 had charged the bars to reach me, reach me as Master had used me as a shield.

All to protect himself.

Master stood from his seat as 901 was dragged out of the pit by four guards. My heart swelled and burst, then regained a lost beat when a hint of a smile had pulled on his split lips.

He was so handsome. I cared for him so much, it seemed an almost impossible sensation to endure.

Master walked into a throng of people, all fussing and panicking over the champions’ attack. Master was trying his best to calm them all down, but I could see the strain and anger on his face.

A hand gripped my arm, and I found myself being forced to my feet by a guard. He guided me roughly to the beginning of a tunnel where Maya waited to take me back to my room. Her eyes were facing the floor in submission as I met her. She fell into step beside me and we hurried to follow the guard. I rushed as fast as I could through the hallways. I was glad that the guard was quick, clearly needing to return to the pit. I wanted to be alone with Maya. I needed to work out a way to get to 901.

As soon as we arrived at the door, the guard threw both Maya and me into the room. He slammed the door shut, and silence descended on us when we were left in our own company.

Maya’s head raised, and she moved to lock the bolt on the inside. When she did, I gestured with my hand to the side room to be sure we couldn’t be overheard.

As soon as the curtain was closed, sectioning us off from the rest of the room, she said, “Miss? What is happening? The entire place is in a fluster!”

I pressed my hand over my forehead and sat down on the couch. Maya crouched before me. I shook my head in disbelief at the actions of today. Maya took hold of my hand for support. I cast her a grateful smile. Meeting Maya’s eyes, I confided, “The champions revolted.”

Maya’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “901?” she questioned in concern.

I shook my head. “He was trapped in the waiting cell. It was the other two males.” I quickly explained the rest.

Maya got to her feet and guided me to the chair in the center of the room. I sat on the vanity seat, and I sighed as she released the pins that were keeping up my hair. I groaned as her fingers raked over my scalp, and I heard Maya sigh.

“What?” I asked, feeling a nervous energy flowing from where she stood.

She walked around me slowly. “Miss,” she said softly, and I watched as a small smile spread on her lips.

“What?”

Maya took my hand. “I discovered your name.”

In a split second, my pulse raced at a heady speed. “What?” I whispered in disbelief.

Maya nodded her head and squeezed my hand. “And I know 901’s, too.”

“How?”

Maya shrugged. “I have been asking the chiri to help me.” She raised one shoulder. “We are a close community. We help one another.” Meeting my eyes, she said, “One of the chiri cleans the offices where the files for all slaves are kept. I asked her for yours and 901’s.”

My body was tense as I waited for her to reveal the biggest mystery to me. “You are Inessa Belrova, miss. From Russia.”

As she told me my name, it felt as though the invisible chains that kept me in darkness were breaking free from my soul. “Inessa … Belrova…” I repeated, and felt tears flow down my cheeks.

Maya wiped them away with her thumb, then said, “And 901 is named Ilya, Ilya Konev. He too is Russian.”

A sob slipped from my lips as I thought of 901’s, I meant Ilya’s, handsome face against that beautiful name. “Ilya,” I whispered, treasuring the sound of those letters on my tongue. “Inessa and Ilya.”