Legion is bruised and bloody when he returns to get me after the game. But his smile is brilliant. Reagan has already gone, but Styx waited with me. She snorts at the sight of his smug face then shakes her head and says to me, “He’s going to be unbearable now. Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her, but she’s already slipping out, her attention focused on the male she called Corvin where he waits for her just through the balcony door.

  “Hey,” Legion calls out. “Nice work today,” Legion tells the male. He looks at Styx. “Next time we do drinks, bring your boyfriend. He’s cool.”

  Styx frowns. “He’s not my⁠—”

  “I’ll be there,” Corvin says with a crooked smile.

  Styx scowls and walks off. Corvin follows, still smiling.

  When we’re alone, Legion’s grin becomes more relaxed.

  “Well, what did you think?” he asks.

  “You pummeled them,” I say, and he laughs.

  His smile is rare, the sight so unexpectedly beautiful that my breath catches. But the smugness in the curve of his mouth has me shaking my head.

  “Gods, Styx is right. Are you always like this when you compete?”

  “Only when I win.” He winks and adds, “And I never lose.”

  I shake my head then tighten my scarf to cover my smile.

  Klyn refuses to walk home with us, which Legion finds hilarious. He and I end up walking alone in the moonlight, his good mood a contrast to my thoughtful one, given everything Reagan and Styx told me today.

  “How did it go today?” he asks, “with Reagan and Styx?”

  I cast him a sideways glance. “Nervous about me meeting your friends?”

  “I’m always nervous about Styx.”

  I smile at that. “Yes, I can see why. She’s great. Scary, but great. Especially after she⁠—”

  I stop short, my cheeks flushing with what I’ve almost confessed.

  “After she what?” Legion asks, his suspicion bordering on fury.

  “Nothing,” I assure him. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Knowing Styx, I find that very hard to believe.” His expression darkens as he adds, “I’ll speak to her about it. Don’t worry, she won’t bother you again.”

  “No, please,” I say quickly. “Do not speak to her about it. It was my fault. I thought you two had…you know.”

  He stares at me, confusion slowly turning to understanding. “You were jealous.”

  “No,” I scoff. “Not jealous. Just…curious.”

  He grins. “Right. Curious.”

  “Shut up,” I grumble.

  His grin widens, but he lets it go. “And Reagan?”

  “She was really nice.” I hesitate then add, “And forthcoming.”

  His smile vanishes and he has the good sense to look nervous. “About?”

  My brow arches as I say, “The laws about an outsider killing a citizen of this realm—including a bear with moon fever.”

  His expression clouds. “She shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

  “Why not? Was it a secret?”

  He doesn’t answer.

  “Your secrets are going to get you into trouble,” I warn.

  He looks over at me, his expression darkening. “I know.”

  Those two words speak volumes for all the things he’s not saying.

  “What was today?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why did you bring me with you?”

  “I told you, I want you to see this place as more than a prison.”

  I might have believed him this morning, but now, after what Reagan told me about the bear, I’m not so sure. “You’re stalling.”

  “Stalling for what?”

  “I know you. You might not be the evil monster everyone thinks you are, but you are ruthless when it comes to protecting the people you care about. So, why haven’t you gone back to my world and destroyed every one of the Crimson Roses?”

  “I’m glad you recognize that I care about you.”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  His lips twitch, but the smile never comes. He stares out into the distance, and I know I’ve struck on the truth.

  “I don’t believe it’s a coincidence that this Uziah made you a deal to hunt me,” he says at last.

  “What do you mean?”

  His mouth flattens into a hard line. “When my mother fashioned her weapon, she made sure I was to be wielded by a master always.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My immortal life requires a blood oath to another.”

  “Is that what you meant about others wanting your blood?”

  He nods. “My very existence is contingent upon being blood-bonded to another. A master with the power to command me. To bend me to their will.”

  “Wait. Your mother did that to you?”

  “I think she knew the god’s essence in me would make me powerful enough to resist her evil intentions, so she created an insurance policy against any hint of rebellion in me.”

  “Your mother bound you to her so you’d have to carry out her orders even if you didn’t want to?”

  “Yes.”

  I try to imagine a parent doing that to their child, but I can’t. It’s too horrible. “How old were you when she first bound you?”

  “Six.”

  My stomach roils with what he’s telling me. “She deserved to be locked in a prison world more than you did.”

  “Maybe. But being sent here was the best thing that could have happened. Caius learned of the blood bond and demanded I bind myself to him. At first, I fought it. Fought him. But he wasn’t like her. I wasn’t forced to kill or destroy against my will. He earned my loyalty and respect—and my willingness.” He casts me a glance as he says, “I unbound myself to Caius when I met you.”

  “I’m glad,” I say, shuddering. “No one should ever be trapped like that.” My relief is short-lived as I note the heaviness in his gaze. “Wait, what do you mean your immortal life? What happens if you stay unbonded?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admits. “My shadow beast couldn’t be happier, but I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

  “Well, at least you’re free.”

  “I wasn’t meant to be free,” he says quietly. I hear a twinge of bitterness in his words that leaves me desperate to help him.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  He hesitates and says, “Accepting the mate bond would give you that same power over me.”

  Suddenly, his resistance makes complete sense. “I would never do that.”

  I glimpse a vulnerable trust in his eyes as he says, “I’m starting to believe that.”

  I flash him a small smile since that’s all the reassurance or comfort I can give—and tuck my gloved hands into my pockets to keep from trying to offer anything more.

  Maybe that’s why my next words tumble out before I can stop them. “My mother would have liked you.”

  “What?”

  “You asked me what my mother would say about you. She would have loved you. She had this way of reading a person’s character. Of getting past whatever they’d done or mistakes they’d made. She saw through it to someone’s heart.” I glance up at him. “I promised her something before she died.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I promised I wouldn’t kill innocents.” He studies me with an intensity that has me looking away. “So, I would never order you to do the things your mom did,” I add quietly.

  When he doesn’t answer, I force myself to look over at him again. When I do, I note the wry smile curving his lips.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You’re never what I expect,” he says, shaking his head. “An assassin with a code. Who would have guessed?”

  “When you say it like that, you make it sound so…cute.”

  “It is cute.”

  I scowl. “I’m badass. Not cute.”

  “Of course, my mistake.” The smile vanishes, but the amusement in his eye remains.

  Off balance, I refocus on the conversation at hand. “So, you believe Uziah knows about your need to be bound to someone?” I can’t quite bring myself to say the word ‘master.’ Nor do I let myself think about anyone commanding Legion against his will. “But how would they know?”

  “That’s what I’d like to find out. Very few know my secret even here, and I trust them all implicitly with that truth.”

  “The Crimson Roses wanted me to kill you,” I point out. “That would have made a blood vow impossible.”

  His smirk from earlier returns with the same level of smugness. “It’s cute that you still think you could have done so.”

  I glare at him. “It’s cute that you still think I won’t.”

  He laughs, and the mood lightens, but I’m not finished putting all these pieces together. Nor can I ignore the trust required for him to finally tell me all of this. The more of his trust he gives me, the more I want to give him in return.

  “So that’s why you haven’t gone to the Earth realm to face them? You’re afraid they’ll try to bind you?”

  “Not afraid,” he says, eyes flashing. “Not for myself. But I won’t risk you.”

  “Honestly, I half-expected you to sneak off in the middle of the night and go without me already.”

  “I’ve considered it,” he admits, earning another glare.

  “Why haven’t you?”

  “I had wanted to go in with more information, namely how in the hell they found out my secret, but so far, Klyn’s hired tracker hasn’t brought us any useful intel.”

  “When you do go, I’m going with you.”

  He doesn’t answer.

  “Legion,” I warn. “I’m serious.”

  “I know,” he says finally. “Okay.”

  “Promise me.”

  He scowls. “I promise to take you with me.”

  “Good,” I say, but my worry is a dark cloud that follows me all the way home. Without a blood vow, what will become of Legion? And what happens to us when my long yet mortal life comes to an end?

  Kendall is waiting for me when I step inside my room. Her expression is tight, and I immediately tense.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I had a vision,” she says quietly.

  “What was it about?”

  “You. And Legion. There’s something dangerous about his blood, Tori. Something people will kill for.”

  I sigh. “He told me about it earlier. His mom—who sounds like a real asshole by the way—used dark magic to invoke the need for him to be bound to a master if he wants to remain immortal.”

  “What kind of binding?”

  “One that makes him subservient to whoever rules him. Forcing him to obey their commands even against his will.”

  She stares at me for a beat, not quite surprised but not reassured either. “The kind of commands that lead to wiping out entire armies?” she asks quietly.

  I sigh. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “Gods. His own mother did that to him?”

  “I know. Trust me, if I ever meet her, I’m going to show her exactly what I think of her parenting choices.”

  Kendall snorts. “What did Mom always say? Kill her with kindness?”

  I grin. “Exactly.”

  Her amusement fades quickly, replaced by that same worry from before. “Well, whatever this binding is, it puts him at risk. You’re not the only one being hunted, Tor.”

  “What did you see?” I ask. “Is it Uziah?”

  “Yes, but he’s not alone.”

  “Who else?”

  “I don’t know them, but… he faces them alone, Tor. And he loses.”

  “He’s immortal,” I argue. “Unkillable. He can’t lose.”

  Her gaze is haunted as she shakes her head. “There are worse things than death for someone like him.”

  I shudder, thinking back to Legion’s promise to take me with him. Clinging to it. Especially now. “He’s not going alone,” I assure her.

  But she doesn’t look relieved.

  “Is there something else you’re not telling me?” I ask.

  “I think I need to go with him too.”

  “Absolutely not. It’s way too dangerous.”

  “Uziah wants me,” she says. “You can use that. Distract him⁠—”

  “No way. I am not using my little sister as bait.”

  “Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but there’s something I’m supposed to do.”

  “Like what exactly?”

  “I don’t know.” Her expression clouds. “The vision isn’t clear.”

  “Of course not.” I throw up my hands.

  “Look, I’m trying, okay?”

  I sigh. “Kendall, I’m not trying to diminish your gift. I just… I can’t let you put yourself in danger. Not for this.”

  “What if you fail without me there?”

  “Then I’ll die knowing you still live here where it’s safe.”

  She glares at me, and I brace myself for more of an argument. But she only shakes her head, no less angry but apparently not in the mood to argue as she strides for the open door.

  “Something’s coming,” she tells me ominously. “And it’s going to take all of us to beat it.”

  Chapter 26

  Tori

  Chaya, Kendall, and Bron are a captive audience at dinner as Legion regales everyone with a very embellished version of the game right down to the moment of his victory. Klyn, who arrived just before the meal, scowls from his seat, which only adds to the others’ amusement. It’s the most social I’ve ever seen Legion, but it only makes me more concerned about the secret he shared with me earlier.

  He didn’t come out and say he ended the blood bond with Caius for me, but he said he did it after he met me, which tells me enough. The fact that he’s waited to face the Crimson Roses—a gang he’s capable of destroying with one breath of his hellfire—tells me even more.

  He’s vulnerable.

  Kendall’s vision proves it, though I don’t let myself dwell on her predictions. I can’t. Somewhere along the way, I began to care for the death dragon. The thought of losing him now cuts me deeper than I ever thought possible.

  After dinner, Legion and Klyn close themselves in the study. For once, I don’t eavesdrop. Instead, I spend the evening playing board games with Chaya, Kendall, and Bron. The kid’s exhausting, endless wells of energy combined with a chatter that doesn’t stop. Chaya takes it all in stride, even conjuring a small cyclone of wind that knocks Bron off his feet again and again as he tries to push through the force of it. He ends up wearing himself out from laughter more than anything else. By the time Klyn comes to collect him, I’m yawning and thinking only of sleep.

  Legion walks me to my room, quiet enough that I wonder what he and Klyn spoke about. But he doesn’t say.

  “You were great with Bron,” he tells me.

  “That kid is exhausting,” I say.

  He chuckles. “It’s a team effort to keep up with him.”

  “Where’s his mother?” I ask.

  He frowns, his gaze distant as if caught in a memory. “Leah had childbirth complications. She passed away when Bron was a few days old.”

  “I’m so sorry. That must be hard for Klyn. Were they mates?”

  “Not fated, no. But they were clearly meant for each other. She softened his edges. Now, Bron does that. And we all do what we can to help.”

  “You’re his family,” I say, and he nods.

  It’s another way Tartarus has broken through all my stereotypes. The idea that the people here care this much about one another—it touches parts of me that really needed to know the world still had this kind of goodness in it. It also makes me realize I’m not the only one who will be affected if something happens to Legion.

  When we get to my door, I turn to him, a sudden worry chasing off my tiredness.

  “You’re not going tonight.”

  “Going?”

  “To the Earth realm,” I say. “To the Crimson Roses. Promise me you’re not going tonight.”

  “Why would you think⁠—?”

  “You and Klyn are not subtle, you know. Locking yourselves up in that room all night to plot and plan.”

  His mouth quirks. “Is that so? And what exactly do you think we plotted?”

  Another day, his attempts to draw me into a back-and-forth like this would work. Tonight, I’m too far gone with concern. “I’m tired, Legion. Promise me you won’t go tonight.”

  His smile vanishes. Worry lines his dark gaze. “I promise.”

  “Thank you.” I push my door open and step inside before I can ask for more than that. “Good night.”

  Despite my exhaustion, sleep is not easy. Not even the relief of removing the layers of fabric covering my lethal skin is enough to relax me. After a lifetime of having only Kendall to protect, I’ve now apparently added Legion, Chaya, Klyn, and Bron to the list of lives I refuse to endanger. It’s a weighty responsibility with no easy solutions.

  I could try to make another deal maybe. Some kind of negotiation with Uziah. Though I have nothing he wants except for the things I refuse to give. Em isn’t a better option. I don’t even know her much less understand what sort of motivation would change her mind from taking her revenge.

  Kendall’s warning only makes it worse. More and more, her visions revolve around death, making it hard to see what sort of plan or choice allows us to avoid that fate. All I have is Legion’s promise to cling to. He won’t go without me. At least, not tonight.

  Eventually, I sleep fitfully, my dreams full of poisoned deaths with no one left to protect by the time I’ve finished killing.

  The following morning, I’m up and dressed and about to seek out breakfast when someone knocks at my door. Pulling it open, I’m surprised to see Legion.

  “Hi.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to knock.”

  He smirks, his gaze flitting lower as we both remember the eye-full he got last time he barged in on me first thing in the morning. “I like to keep you guessing.”

  My thoughts drift to the moment we shared in the library. A moment he hasn’t tried to repeat since. Granted, it was risky as hell to do in the first place, but I can’t help wanting more.