Eyes bleary, Ava heaved the pickax downward, reverberations sending another wave of pain shimmering through her blistered hands and down her biceps and spine. Exhaustion had set in long ago. She was still waiting for the numbness to follow. If only to get some relief from the searing burn beneath her skin that grew with every breath. Damn tracker.

She couldn’t comprehend how Valdus and his men had survived this for two years.

Sweat soaked what was left of her uniform.

By her side, his chiseled body slick with sweat and grime, Valdus worked far more efficiently, the rivulets of perspiration tracking down his body, making his skin glow like marble. His ax moving in grim rhythm with the other men, their grunts and labored breathing echoing off the low cavern walls in time with the clatter of large chunks of falling rock.

The mountain of ore at each of their feet growing larger by the second.

She risked a glance down at her own metal sheet. Her pile was still the size of a large handful. Not nearly enough for the serum.

She hacked harder.

“Drink this.” A skin sloshing with liquid appeared under her nose.

She hadn’t realized Valdus had stopped working.

“I’m fine.” She swung again. She’d stopped being thirsty a while ago. “I’ll get some later.”

He caught the handle in midair. “Drink. Now.”

Her exhale was hard and fast. “Fine.” She shoved up her faceplate and grabbed the container. The splash of liquid had a sour, metallic tang, but she’d never tasted anything better.

“We don’t have enough, do we?”

His expression gave nothing away. “We will.”

Somehow, even that small show of optimism had her feeling better.

“Your turn.” She held out the container.

There was a slight hesitation, as if he hadn’t expected the return offer, but then his hand came out. He threw back his head and drank.

Despite herself, she watched the sexy rise and dip of his throat with every long swallow. The tiny droplet that clung to his lower lip like an invitation.

Memories of that mouth on her skin played through her mind. Of his arm muscles flexing as he loomed over her, his hips thrusting deep. The sharp, sweet bite of pleasure and pain. Of need. Of freedom.

Their gazes locked.

The pull between them surging to the fore, their dirty secret.

Two enemies, captive and captor, who’d become so much more.

A shout broke out down the line.

By this time, she knew what was coming next.

A pained howl rent the air.

She hid a shudder.

“Ignore it.” Face hard, Valdus turned and began swinging his ax again.

Raising her weapon high, bicep trembling, she tried to follow his lead.

But guilt slithered around her chest, squeezing tight.

Valdus had said earlier that shift time was the safest time down here. The other inmates too busy scrambling to meet their quotas to focus on much else. But as she’d come to understand, safer didn’t mean totally safe. Grudges were still meted out, tools and ore stolen, sudden lusts and violence acted upon.

Another cry erupted. Past the wide shoulders of the men surrounding her, she caught a glimpse of a scuffle. Of three men forcing another to his knees before Valdus shifted closer, blocking her view. “Focus on the rock. On what it takes to keep yourself alive.”

She darted a quick glance his way.

His expression was still hard, his voice even.

Did he even care? Was it only his own men who elicited any kind of reaction?

If so, that didn’t bode well for her.

As quickly as it had begun, the squealing stopped, leaving behind an eerie silence.

“Stay alert.” As if it never had happened, Valdus spoke to his men. “There’s only a few more rotations left in the shift—and Hollisworth won’t allow it to pass without trying something.”

“You’re right,” cut in an unfamiliar voice from behind, “and I’m already here.”

“Draeke.” Every cell in Valdus’s body went on high alert as he swiveled around. “I wondered when Hollisworth’s leashed dog would show himself.”

“I prefer the title Enforcer. Now, give me the female.”

Ava’s breathing came quicker.

Valdus understood. The gang leader was straight out of one’s worst nightmare.

At least a half foot taller than Valdus himself, the beast of a man stood stark naked in the middle of the quarry, covered in crude tattoos that stretched from his shaved head to his mammoth legs. Each image a vivid, detailed rendering of violence that was said to be historical rather than imaginative. Coated in the red dust that clung to them all, he looked like the devil himself.

Which was fairly accurate, especially since Hollisworth had used the promise of extra rations and less shift work to turn the gang leader into his own homicidal marionette.

“Fuck off, Draeke. She’s mine.” He snagged Ava’s arm and pulled her behind him.

On cue, his men, even Ryker, closed in, tightening the wall of bodies between her and the gang leader. Their message clear: anyone coming for her would have to go through them.

Pride and gratitude hummed through his blood. There was no one better than his team.

“Give her to me and I’ll give you twenty kitloms for the next weighing.” Undeterred by his team’s show of strength, Draeke sidled closer, his black eyes glittering with lust.

“Not happening.”

The faint chant of fight, fight, fight stirred among the gang leader’s followers.

Most were malnourished and more than a few sported the dark red rings around their chest that signaled the last stages of death from the red dust, but those in Draeke’s inner circle were formidable and could be a problem.

“Thirty.”

“No.” Valdus cocked his head trying to listen over the chant, trying to locate the annoying buzzing of the electronic drones. He couldn’t afford to forget Hollisworth was watching and waiting above.

But toward what end? If the Councilman allowed his lackey Draeke to try and take her by force, it would spark a mass riot—and even the droids wouldn’t be able to take down all the men before the mob reached her. Ava would never survive.

Valdus pressed her tighter against him.

“I’ve been sanctioned by our supreme Councilman to go as high as seventy-five kitloms,” snarled Draeke. “That’s my final offer.”

A gasp ran through the crowd. Seventy-five kitloms was an unbelievable deal. An amount that would take most men fifteen to sixteen hours of backbreaking mining to accumulate. To have that many kitloms free and clear would give his men several rotations, maybe even a lunar month, of easier work and a real chance for recuperation.

“She belongs to me and me alone.” Valdus raised his voice so it carried through the cavern and into the tunnels, but in truth his intended target was much closer.

He knew she doubted him. Judged him as cold and hard. Didn’t yet believe his promise to watch over her as he did his men.

But she would.

“Bullshit. Every man has his price.” Draeke snapped his fingers, his substantial bulk bunching as he moved. “In addition to the seventy-five kitloms, you can have these two. They’re newly broken-in and make a good deal even better.”

Two figures were pulled from the back of the crowd and shoved to their knees.

Horror slammed through Ava.

The men’s heads were bowed, but she recognized her teammate at once.

“Pratt!” Bruises covered his neck, arms, and torso.

This was her husband’s handiwork. She was sure. Even from afar, he’d fettered out her vulnerability and ordered his men do his dirty work. It wasn’t the first time he’d used someone else to keep her in line.

“Steady.” The heat of Valdus’s skin anchored her, his hold locking her to his side.

At the sound of his name, Pratt’s chin snapped up, his dazed gaze locking on her. He couldn’t recognize her without her facial camouflage, but he still whispered, “Save me. Please.”

Her stomach heaved. “Valdus, we have to help him.”

“No trade.” Her ex-captor’s refusal rang out loud and clear.

“Have it your way.” The gang leader snapped his fingers and Pratt and the other man were dragged backward out of view, both screaming, their heels kicking at the ground.

“Please,” she pleaded. “You can’t leave Pratt with that monster. You—”

“Have no other choice. Escape is the only chance any of us have of surviving this place, even your colleague. And that isn’t possible without you or the serum.”

“But we can’t do nothing.”

“Sounds like your female is anxious for the trade.” Across the room, the monster’s black eyes glittered with sick pleasure. “Maybe you should listen to her?”

“No trade,” growled Valdus.

“So be it.” Draeke flicked his hand. “Make it quick,” he told his men. “Before the drones take notice.”

A loud thwack sounded, then grunts, followed by a horrific, sickening silence.

She stifled a sob.

“Just so you know, they’re not dead. Not yet at least.” The monster’s taunting gaze bored into her. “What would be the fun in that? They’ll wake so we can do it all again. Until you save them.”

“No.” The weight of guilt and helplessness made breathing difficult.

“The choice is not hers to make.” The man at her side squeezed her tighter, his voice dropping to a whisper as he spoke to her alone. “I will never trade him for you. But understand, the decision is mine. All mine. I will bear the responsibility…and the shame. None of this is on you.”

She shivered, his words piercing her guilt and pain.

With the stars, he’d offered her hope. This time, he offered her absolution.

He didn’t want to ignore Pratt’s situation any more than she, but he was making a choice. An awful, hideous one. The kind with no good outcomes. The consequences of which he’d have to carry for the rest of his life.

But it was a choice he’d made because it took into account the fate of many over one.

Here was a man who would always shoulder the hard choices and their consequences, facing unflinchingly what had to be done.

She had never met anyone as strong.

Her arms dropped to her sides. “I... I hate it,” she swallowed hard, forcing the words out, “but I…I understand.” He had to play the long game. To remember that without that serum they were all doomed.

“I hate it, too.” The whispered words were just for her. An admission she suspected cost him, but he’d trusted her with it nonetheless.

And in doing so, allowed her a brief glimpse of the man behind the leader.

Her heart, cocooned so long by the thick, ragged scars that covered it like weeds, unfurled.

It was strange to have to come to the depths of hell to find the first true hero she’d ever met.

“I’ll get him back if possible,” he said. “When the time is right. I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

“You’re doing what you can. It’s all any of us can do down here.” Shifting her grip, she laced her fingers with his, the warmth of his palm a shock of comforting heat against her own.

His hold tightened, surprise flaring in his gaze before it was replaced by a swell of longing and heat that stole her breath. “Thank you.” More whispered words only for her.

Then, shoulders back, expression hard once more, he faced Draeke again. “We don’t trade in human beings. I’ve told you that before.”

A smirk played across the monster’s face. “So, the female is with you of her own free will?”

“You think she’d rather be with you?”

“I think choice is a fiction. Especially down here.” The gang leader was smarter than he looked. “I also know who she is and what Hollisworth is offering.” He sidled closer, rolls of flesh bouncing as he moved, his beady gaze shifting from her to land on her ex-captor. “Which means her value extends beyond what’s between those thighs. I want her badly—and I will have her. Whether you’re alive for that outcome is up to you.”

Scowl deepening, Valdus’s chin gestured skyward. “Hollisworth won’t tolerate the kind of frenzied chaos any large-scale attack would bring during shift time. Too much danger to the woman he’s tasked you with getting.” He hefted his ax higher. “Which is why you’re going to crawl back under whatever dark red rock you emerged from and end this posturing here and now.”

In typical, twisted Dragath25 fashion, she was suddenly insanely grateful for the drones and the fact that Hollisworth was intent on torturing and killing her himself.

“I guess I should just give up then.” Draeke’s shoulders drooped.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. The guy didn’t exactly look like the kind to retreat so easily. She opened her mouth to whisper a warning—and instead let out a startled scream.

A blur of movement from above. A flash of silver aimed directly at Valdus’s head.

It took her horrified mind a few nanosegments to process.

By then, she was already moving, shoved backward by her ex-captor.

Together, they stumbled right into the outer ring of teammates surrounding them. Luckily, the circle remained intact, bulging outward only momentarily before reforming as strong as ever.

The attacker hit the ground with a sickening thump—right where they’d been standing, his body twisted at an odd angle.

Valdus’s ax rose to defend, but it wasn’t necessary. The man was dead.

“You sick fuck.” Valdus stared straight at Draeke. “You had to know he wouldn’t make it. You had to know you were sending him on a suicide mission.”

The monster only shrugged. “We all take risks down here. Sometimes you have to be willing to try different things to see what works.” He barely spared his own man a glance. “If you think that’s the end of it, think again.” He swept his hand back toward the mob of followers behind him. “I’ve many willing to do whatever I ask.”

She doubted they had a choice.

She peered through the crowd hoping for another glimpse of Pratt. No luck. The monster’s men had hidden him well.

Her stomach rolled.

What else did he have in store?

“Return to work at once!” Her husband’s voice blared through several droids simultaneously, startling her and the rest of the crowd below. “Return to work or the tracker self-destruct sequence will commence. Five…Four…”

Hollisworth was angry.

The burn beneath her skin flamed outward, stealing her breath.

But there was an upside.

Terrified, the other inmates scattered, shoving and pushing as they cleared the immediate area. Draeke’s followers included.

Leaving the gang leader standing alone.

“Looks as if you’re puppeteer might not be so happy with you right now,” taunted Valdus.

Draeke’s nostrils flared. “Go ahead and hide behind the female,” he shot back, “but I promise, it won’t be for long.” His narrowed gaze locked with hers. “See you soon, breeder.”

Despite the burn, icy dread slid down her spine.

It didn’t sound like a threat. It sounded like a promise.