Mallory is crying. I hear her before I even wake up, but I don’t for one second think this is a dream. I’ve dreamed about her several times since the night Cody and I found her in the woods, but in my dreams, she’s always smiling. Singing. Dancing around naked, with sun shining in her hair. In my dreams, she’s happy.

The floor beneath me is cold, hard, and rough. Concrete. But not my shelter. The light shining through my closed eyes doesn’t feel right.

My eyelids weigh a ton, and my arms weigh even more but I force my eyes open as I push myself upright. The room spins, so it takes me a second to be sure I don’t know this place. But I don’t.

Varian kneels in front of me, and suddenly I remember.

Dead men in the shelter. Mallory running into the woods. Varian and his new guards.

Fuck. I’d bet my life we’re in the half-crushed building they claim as their home.

I try to lean around him, looking for Mallory, but he mirrors me to block my view.

“You took quite a nap,” he says. “Left your girl undefended.”

I growl at him, but I’m still too weak to throw a punch. The room is still spinning around me. I have one hell of a fucking concussion, and I can tell from the weak daylight shining in through the window that I’ve been out for at least a couple of hours. That’s not good.

My left hand hurts. My broken nose is a dark blue lump on the lower edge of my vision. My ribs are a constant ache. My tongue is so dry it’s practically stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my head is an endless eruption of sharp, bitter pain.

“Oh, Mallory’s fine,” Varian says. “We waited for you. But I don’t think she can wait much longer.”

What the hell does that mean?

He stands, clearing my line of sight, and I see Mallory huddling naked on the floor, with Evan and Leon towering over her. Filip stands to my right, holding a section of rebar like a baseball bat, ready to cave my skull in at the first sign of aggression from me.

Across the room, Nick, the fourth guy, seems to be holding up the wall.

“I’m sorry, Barrett.” Mallory sniffs back more tears. “Varian said he’d kill you if I didn’t give myself up.”

Bastard. I growl at him, but he only laughs.

There’s another fresh bruise on Mallory’s cheek, but other than that, she looks okay. Except… Her face is flushed and she’s covered in a light sheen of sweat. But the most telling symptom is the dread written all over her face.

“Do you recognize this?” Varian waves a palm-length metal cylinder in front of my face. I can’t focus well enough to read the label, but I know damn well what he’s holding. My eyes close and I take a deep breath, trying to wrap my mind around the reality. This can’t be happening. Not again. “I see you know what this is. And what’s about to go down.”

I lurch for him, and Filip swings the rebar at my ribs, like a batter hitting one into the stands. I go down clutching my side, hoping nothing’s broken. There’s no medical care out here, beyond time and one-dose antibiotics, and my cracked knuckle is going to be more than enough to deal with when this is over.

Though I’d crack several more of them, if that’s what it costs me to end Varian.

“Try that again, and I’ll hit her instead,” Filip warns. He’s not a gladiator, but he was Varian’s bodyguard for years. He’s still in good shape. And he’s fucking armed.

“So, the game tonight is pretty simple, and the format should be familiar to you,” Varian says. “You tried to kill me, and your new bitch got me sent here.”

Mallory watches me, terror swimming in her eyes.

“So we’re going to give her what she’s got coming, and you’re going to watch. Every time you look away, we’re going to hit her. With the rebar.”

No. I can’t do this again. I can’t watch what happened to Norah happen to Mallory.

“Then you’re going to watch us kill her. And this time when your turn comes, we know to avoid the metal plate.” Varian mimes swinging a bat at my head, but I’m not watching him. All I can see is Mallory, crying quietly in the corner. Out of reach.

I can’t take all five of them. Not while they have a weapon and I have a concussion. Fresh pain blossoms in my chest, unrelated to my wounds. I can’t save her from this. God help me, I can’t stop them.

Leon pulls Mallory up from the floor, and she doesn’t fight him. Her stare is unfocused. She’s retreated from reality, despite the fever raging through her body, readying it for something she doesn’t really want. Because she knows how this is going to go.

He takes her by the chin to make her look at him, but her eyes don’t focus. “Wake up, honey.” His voice is nasal because of his broken nose. “I’m gonna need you to be here with me for this.” When she only stares blankly at his shirt, he slaps her across the face.

Mallory gasps, cruelly awake now, and I lurch up again, trying to get to her. Filip takes another swing, at my arm this time, and pain burns through my triceps and explodes in my humerus. Fuck. I grasp at my arm, flexing my hand and wrist. Nothing’s broken. But Filip won’t make that mistake again.

“Why does he get to go first?” Evan demands.

“Fuck off. I’ve been with Varian from the start.” Leon pushes Mallory toward one of the chairs around the edge of the room, but Evan grabs her arm and pulls her away from him. Mallory’s gaze loses focus again. It doesn’t matter to her who goes first, when it’s all just a precursor to a violent death.

“Stop!” Varian shouts, when Evan and Leon face off against each other. But he’s not looking at his men. He’s watching Mallory, and he looks…confused. After a second, I understand why.

She’s not going to fight. She’s not going to cry or beg. He’s already abused all of the resistance—the sport, as he calls it—out of her, and what he’s left with is a woman resigned to her fate. But that’s not what he wants.

“Guys, I think we’re going about this all wrong.” Varian glances at his men, and they turn puzzled looks his way. “Mallory’s used to performing for us. I think she needs to put on an entirely different show tonight. At least until that Nympho kicks in, and her body won’t let her mind check out.”

Her gaze finally rises from the floor, and I exhale slowly when I notice her subtly pressing her legs together. The drug has kicked in. But if he hasn’t figured that out on his own, I’m not going to tell him.

“Barrett,” Varian says. “You’re up first.”

I blink at him, uncomprehending, and he gestures at Mallory.

No. No. I shake my head. I keep shaking it.

“What the fuck, man?” Filip demands. “Why does he get to go at all?”

“That’s why.” Varian points at Mallory, and I look up to find my horror echoed in her expression.

“No,” she pleads. “No, Varian, that’s not… I’m not going to… Leave Barrett out of this!”

He’s found a brand-new way to hurt her. A way to taint what she and I have found together. To make us play it out like a cheap holo-vid porn for him and his friends.

No. I won’t do this for him. I won’t do this to her.

I shake my head again, and Varian drops into a squat in front of me. “You’re going to fuck her, right now, or I’m going to start breaking her bones one at a time, until you give in.” He reaches up, and Filip slaps the rebar into his hand.

A primal snarl erupts from my throat.

“Okay. Evan, hold her arm out. The right one.”

Evan grabs Mallory’s arm. Tears pour down her face as she tries to pull away from him, but he’s too strong. He holds her arm out straight, and Varian pulls the rebar back like a bat. Mallory starts screaming, and that’s all I can take.

I stand, and this time no one stops me. The room has finally stopped spinning.

Varian turns to me, rebar held at the ready. “You in?”

I nod, my jaw clenched so tight the pain radiates into my skull. This is just like Avery. He remembers exactly how to motivate me.

“All right.” Varian lowers the rebar and backs away. “Make it good. Evan, block the door.” Because in this half-destroyed building, it evidently won’t close.

Evan lets Mallory go and takes up a position by the door, in case we try to bolt. But we’d never make it.

Mallory’s eyes fill with fresh tears as I pull her into an embrace, her head against my chest. “No,” she whispers. “Barrett, no. Not like this. Not for them.”

I pull away just enough that she can see my face. Then I gesture to the rest of the room. To the sadists puppeteering this sick show. And I shake my head. This isn’t for them. I tap one finger on her sternum. This is for you.

She nods. But she’s still crying. No matter who this is for, they will take it and pervert it. She knows that as well as I do. And there’s nothing I can do about that.

I can’t watch them beat her with a steel stick.

“Well, isn’t that sweet,” Varian sneers.

“Just fuck her,” Leon snaps. “Hard.”

I ignore them as I pull my shirt off. That seems only fair, with her already naked.

Mallory backs away from me. “There’s no point,” she whispers. “They’re going to kill me anyway.”

I know. But I will do anything to delay that moment. Anything to give us time to find a way out. Anything to have her with me for even one more minute. To spare her the pain that is the consequence of our refusal.

I reach for her, and she backs away again. She’s crying steadily now, her chest heaving with silent sobs. I clench my jaw again and pull her toward me, repeating to myself what I told her.

This isn’t for them. This is for her.

“Please, Barrett,” she cries, and my heart cracks open.

I wipe her tears away with my thumbs. Then I lean down and kiss her, just a gentle peck on closed lips.

I take her hand and tug her down onto the floor with me, pretending I can’t see Evan stroking himself through his pants. I lay her down, and more tears slide down to pool in her ears as I position myself over her, covering as much of her body as I can.

She bites her lip and turns her head to the side, but I take her by the chin and turn her again until she’s looking up at me. I point at my own eyes. Me. Just keep looking at me, songbird.

She gives me a shaky nod.

I unbutton my pants and push them down to my hips. God help me, I’m already hard.

“Please,” she pleads one more time, begging me not to do this.

We don’t have any choice. But I can’t take her while she’s saying no. I can’t. So I capture her gaze and hold it while I press against her entrance. Waiting for consent. Silently begging her to understand that it’s this, or the systematic smashing of nearly every bone in her body before Varian passes her around like a broken rag doll, for old times’ sake.

I can’t watch her die like that.

She sucks in a deep, halting breath. Then she nods again. “Go ahead.”

I kiss her while I slide into her. Slowly. Her body is more than ready, thanks to that damn drug, and she’s tight and wet around me. She sighs into my mouth, and her hips rise up to meet mine.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” someone says from across the room, and Mallory stiffens beneath me. I point at my eyes again, and she sniffles as she nods. Then she wraps her legs around my hips, and I begin to move.

I go slowly, pulling almost all the way out of her before I sink back in, inch by inch, because I know this isn’t want Varian wants. He wants something ugly and violent. He wants to humiliate us. To taint our relationship with abuse. To turn me into one of her rapists, like he did with Avery. But I’m not going to let that happen.

Varian can’t touch what I have with Mallory. Fuck the audience. This is for her. These may be my last moments with her. And they’re damn well going to be good ones.

I lean down to kiss her again as I pump slowly in and out of her, careful to brush against her clit, because her body truly needs this. But not too hard. Not too fast. I let my kisses echo those same motions, sweeping into her mouth with every stroke, teasing her tongue, slowly letting my need build to match hers.

Mallory arches up to meet me, groaning softly with every long, slow plunge. Her legs begin to relax around my hips. Her hands find my arms and they hold on, anchoring her to me.

That’s it, songbird. Let this be beautiful.

I wish I could talk to her. I wish I could tell her how much she means to me. How brave and beautiful she is. How much I love her.

How fucking sorry I am for telling Varian that she’s here. For not finding some other way to draw him out.

Her hands tighten on my arms as her sweet little body tightens around my cock, pushing me forward with more urgency. She’s close but she’s waiting for me.

No need. I’m going to make this last.

“Barrett,” she groans, arching desperately toward me. I nod at her, telling to go ahead. To come for me. “Are you sure?” she whispers.

In reply. I lean down for another kiss as I grind a little harder into her clit.

She falls apart beneath me, clenching around me. Groaning into my mouth. “Oh, god,” she breathes, clutching my ass, trying to urge me faster. But I hold my pace, drawing her orgasm out. Making her live in that moment, as mine builds.

“Fuck, I think she just came,” a voice calls from across the room, but Mallory doesn’t even seem to hear. Her eyes are closed, her head thrown back, and she is fucking gorgeous in the throes of languid bliss.

Finally, she opens her eyes and looks up at me. There’s a shy smile riding the corner of her mouth, and though she’s still clenched tight around me, she’s taken the edge off. For the moment, at least, her body is satisfied. Which means the next one can be for us both.

I thrust a little faster, a little deeper, and her smile grows. She reaches up to cup the side of my face, and this time she holds my gaze as she arches up to meet my new tempo.

God, she’s beautiful. Even under the worst circumstances I can imagine.

“One last time?” she whispers, and I nod.

One last time, songbird.

I slide one hand up her leg, tucking it tighter around my waist, and I move even faster now. Harder. My balls begin to tighten, and that blissful pressure pulls me toward the edge.

Mallory’s climax builds quickly this time, and her hot little pants are nearly my undoing. “Barrett,” she breathes. “Oh, god!”

I spill into her again and again as her body contracts around me. Dimly I’m aware of the men around us standing. Coming closer. But they exist only on the fringe of my awareness. They don’t matter. There’s nothing else in this moment but Mallory and me.

They can’t take this from us.

She clings to me as the last of her release washes over us both, triggering erotic aftershocks that shoot through me like bolts of electricity. “This is how I want it to end,” she whispers. “With you inside me. Don’t let them kill me. End it now.”

What?

No. No!

“Please.” Her voice shakes, her lips brushing my ear. Her hands feel like vises on my arms. “Don’t let Varian do it. He’ll drag it out. Make it quick for me, Barrett.”

Oh my god. She’s begging me to kill her, so they can’t touch her. But I can’t. I can’t.

They might make a mistake. I might have a chance to overpower them an hour from now, when my head stops pounding. When the sun goes down. When they get hungry and distracted. But if I do what she’s asking, I’ll never know if I could have saved her, if we’d just waited for an opportunity.

Yet if we wait, they’re going to hurt her. Can I ask her to endure that for the chance that this might end well? Isn’t that her decision?

I can’t ask her to go through what Norah went through, when I could give her a peaceful death right now. Yet I can’t kill her.

In the end, that’s what it comes down to. I can’t kill her.

Because I love her.