No matter how many times she retched, Ren couldn’t seem to stop the violent churning of her stomach.

She was a burden. She knew it. They’d given her a bucket, but it was clear they weren’t happy with her. And why would they be? She’d wounded their Conqueror. A few inches to the left and she could have killed him. It didn’t matter that he was sitting tall, his jaw clenched, teeth gritted, expression rigid from pain, but otherwise fine. She’d pulled that trigger. She’d caused him that pain.

Ren’s stomach lurched again and she bent over her bucket, dry-heaving for a few moments before it passed. Every time it happened, Rhavos looked at her with concern, and she felt infinitely worse.

How could he feel anything other than hatred toward her right now? It was what she felt toward herself. She had it in spades. She’d broken a promise she’d made to herself over ten years ago. And in doing so, she’d almost killed her…

Her mate.

She couldn’t call him anything else now. Seeing him in pain, seeing that look of utter betrayal cloud his features, she’d felt it grip her heart. It was a pain fiercer than she’d ever known, and it was what ultimately broke the spell the Freedom Fighters had her under. Her implant had burned like someone was pouring acid over her arm, and as she’d regained full control of her body, her legs had just collapsed beneath her.

He’d been willing to carry her out, but she’d walked. She sat near him now, wanting to apologize—wanting to do something—but sensing she shouldn’t do it in front of his men.

So she waited. She kept her mouth shut and tried to keep the bile from souring her stomach again. When they reached Helios, when Rhavos refused medical treatment, she finally said something.

“Give me whatever he needs.” It was more of a command than a request.

The nurse on duty looked at her warily before glancing to Rhavos. He did not hesitate, merely gave her a curt nod and retreated down the hall. Ren could only guess he was going to his quarters—if not, she’d track him down.

Loaded down with supplies, she found Rhavos’ room easily enough. It didn’t look too different from her own, though somehow she doubted he appreciated the colorful floral arrangement or the abstract paintings on the walls. He seemed to be more of a minimalist.

Which was something she could think about when he wasn’t in pain.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but—”

“That is not at all what I feel,” he said, his tone weary.

She knew that. She could practically feel the concern still radiating off him. With a soft sigh, Ren approached where he sat on the edge of his bed. He was already undoing his harness, setting his weapon aside, and she was grateful for the help.

Bringing a basin of water over the the bedside table, Ren dunked a cloth in, wrung it out, and began to clean the wound, starting with the blood that still stained his skin. Rhavos’ muscles twitched, his teeth gritted harder, but he didn’t move.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For stopping them.”

“I could do nothing else.”

It was not said in an adoring way, and why would it be? She could guess what that action had cost him. His men believed her a traitor, and for him to side with her…

“I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine, and the next I was reaching for that gun.”

Her stomach revolted again, but she squeezed her eyes shut and kept control of herself. Rhavos still said nothing, still barely even flinched as she rubbed the cloth closer to the wound.

“I haven’t touched a gun in a long time. And I could see myself doing it; I could feel the weight of it in my hand. But I couldn’t stop myself.”

Tears started to burn at the corner of her eyes but she blinked them away, furious with herself. Now wasn’t the time. He might have spared her, but he didn’t care—

Ren gasped when she felt his large hand come up to cradle her cheek. She closed her eyes again and leaned into the touch, letting herself be weak for just a moment.

“I was terrified,” she admittedly softly.

“I know,” he said. “I could feel it.”

“I tried to break out of it, tried to stop myself, but the only thing that made me stop was seeing you in pain.”

Rhavos looked at her, and though he still seemed exhausted, his silver eyes darkened with an intense desire. When he spoke, she understood why. “That is what it means to have a mate.”

Ren drew in a breath and let it out in a soft exhale. Her hand came over Rhavos’ and she nodded.

“I want to kiss you,” he said, his voice a deep rumble.

It took Ren a moment to even understand. It was so far from what she expected, so far from the person she’d thought him to be, that she was sure she must have misheard. But that heat burned in his eyes, and he was looking at her lips, leaving her no way to misinterpret.

He was asking her permission. Respecting what she’d wanted, not taking the liberties any other man might take in this moment.

No sooner had she nodded than Rhavos leaned forward, the hand on her cheek moving into her hair as hers rested on his good shoulder. With the intensity that shone in his eyes, she expected a frantic, passionate kiss. And while his mouth pressed firmly to hers, his tongue brushing past her parted lips, it was slow and searching. Her heart fluttered uncontrollably, her chest squeezing. His tongue met hers in a gentle stroke, coaxing a soft moan out of her, and that sound was what finally urged him into pressing harder, his fingers tightening in her hair, his mouth crushing to hers.

Ren let herself get lost in it for a long moment, but she wanted more. She wanted to climb onto his lap, to press her body to his, skin to skin. To take him inside of her, squeeze around him as he brought her to climax.

Her other hand came up to rest on his arm, her nails digging in. A grunt escaped him, and Ren belatedly realized that was his injured arm. The arm she’d shot.

Her lust was suddenly doused by the ice water that shot through her veins, and she pulled back from him.

“I have to clean and dress the wound,” she said.

Rhavos did not push. He simply sat back, his gaze staying on her, none of that intensity fading. She swallowed hard and tried to focus on her task, gently cleaning the wound before she applied the salve she’d been given.

“Something else caused you pain,” he said, and Ren blinked at him. “In the vault. Something other than seeing me harmed.”

He was right, but she wished he wasn’t. She wished, too, that she could go back to the place she’d been when they first met. Where she’d been nothing more than a caged animal snapping at anyone who came close. Back then, she would have had a few choice words for him before she shut this conversation down completely.

Now she was considering telling him about the hell that had been her life. Strange to think that she’d only known him for a week.

“Not every city is like Everton,” she began quietly. “Here, people are mostly free to do what they like. The militia only intervenes when there’s criminal activity. But it wasn’t like that where I grew up. The militia there had all the power, and the citizens had none, with no way to fight back.”

She let out a shuddering breath as she revisited that time. She’d spent her childhood in a flat that was barely habitable, and definitely not big enough for a family of three. Everyone else lived the same way. There was no school. No chance to play. Only back-breaking work, from the time she was six.

“We worked in the mines and the factories or out in the fields with the militia always standing guard, all of them armed. I remember watching my mother collapse in the heat. They wouldn’t let her get a drink of water, and when she didn’t get up immediately, they threatened her at gunpoint until she started working again.”

Anger flared in Rhavos’ eyes, but he stayed silent, allowing Ren to continue.

“It was killing her. Not just working like that day in and day out, but watching me work, too. Eventually she just… gave up. So… I had to fight for us. I had to do something for our family.”

Ren explained how she met with other people who were trying to escape the militia’s grasp. She sacrificed what precious little time she already had for sleep and instead went to meetings with a local resistance group. She helped build an underground bunker outside of the city, donated a portion of her own MREs and water rations to stock it. And when the time came, she took her mother there.

She’d been fourteen.

“Still a youngling,” Rhavos observed, “even by Karuvar standards. I cannot…” He let out a breath. “I cannot imagine having the strength to do that.”

Ren met his gaze. “Is it really strength if you have no choice?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

That one word, that affirmation was enough to help her through the rest of the story; the part she’d spent so long blocking out of her mind.

“We were safe for a while. Happy. It was a small community, but everybody looked out for each other. Our supplies were only meant to last for a year, though, and we needed to send people out to get more.” Ren was quiet for a long moment. “Half of the people we sent out never came back. The militia shot them on sight. It got to a point where there was only one other family living in the bunker, and I drew straws with their son to see who would go out on the supply run. He lost.”

She could still remember the way Marcus smiled when he drew the short straw. It was the smile of someone who knew he wasn’t ever going to see his family or his home again. And he’d been right.

“I don’t know how it happened, but the militia found the bunker. I can still hear them banging on the door, trying to get it open. My mother was holding onto me, but as soon as the militia started to break through, she put herself in front of us and just lunged at one of them. She knocked one of their guns away, but they…”

The shot rang through her memory, followed shortly after by the sound of her mother’s body hitting the floor. Ren closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. Rhavos was watching her, and she could tell he wanted to do something. It was a sentiment she understood, and for several moments, she busied herself with dressing his wound.

“I knew what was going to happen if I just surrendered. I still had a lot of years of work left in me. They’d make me fulfill a contract that never had an end; keep me somewhere in the barracks so they could make sure I didn’t escape. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let my mother’s death accomplish nothing. It was the…” Ren let out a breath. “The one time she actually fought for me, and she paid with her life.”

Her hands were shaking as she tied off the bandage. Rhavos placed his over top and looked up at her.

“Come here,” he said softly.

She didn’t resist. Setting the salve and bandages aside, Ren moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Rhavos wasn’t content with that, though, and he scooped her into his arms. She let out a shuddering breath, feeling the tears come anew.

“I shot two of them myself. The father of the other family—the only person left besides us—tackled the last of them to the ground. He told me to run, so I did. I didn’t stop for two days.”

She hadn’t even been able to bury her mother. Eventually, she’d made a marker with a cross, but it wasn’t enough. Ren closed her eyes and buried her head against Rhavos’ chest, the tears falling freely. He stroked her hair and held her, so incredibly gentle that it almost made her cry even harder.

“Adi’sun said you studied in this town. How did you get here?”

“A family took me in. The dad was a teacher, and he tried his best to catch me up. When I was twenty-one, I caught a train to Everton and took the entrance exam for the university. I failed three times before they finally let me in.”

“What of the others? The humans that were with you?” he asked.

Pain washed over her, and she slid her arms around Rhavos’ waist, pressing her cheek to the place where she heard his heart beating. “Honestly? If they didn’t escape, I hope they were killed. Because if they weren’t, the militia made them pay for helping me.”

She still felt guilty over that. Her life wasn’t worth more than theirs. But they’d given her the opportunity, and she’d taken it. Only to end up brainwashed and mind controlled by another group of humans.

It was too much. She couldn’t think about how disappointed the people she’d left behind would be.

So instead, she looked up at Rhavos as he brushed away her tears.

“I don’t really want to think about that anymore,” she said softly. “I don’t want to think about any of it anymore.”

It was a plea, and one she made knowing she didn’t deserve his kindness. But she knew he would give it. She could see it in his eyes, could feel it in his touch as his hands cradled her face.

And when his mouth came down on hers, Ren knew she could have this—have him—and worry about the rest of the world later.