I awoke to a warm chest rising and falling beneath my cheek, the scent of leather and salt and jasmine enveloping me. I lay still, counting Aidon’s heartbeats before I blinked against the darkness.

The cell door stood open, just as it had when I’d found him. The guards hadn’t bothered to shut it when they brought him down here to die alone. But unlike hours before—when I’d found him lying in the corner of the filthy cell and he’d fought as I examined his wound, as he’d cried out in pain and fear with the scent of dead flesh a heavy curtain around him—now he slept peacefully.

I pushed myself up, dizzy from the draining effort of healing him, and took stock. His ruined shirt bore a myriad of stains, the newest of which was dark rust, still damp. I frowned at the pool of blood, and my hand moved to my own face, to the matching trail that crusted my lips and chin.

I’d pushed too far too fast. Used too much after healing the Eleutherian.

Yet as I watched his chest undulate with healthy breath, something within me eased. My healer’s eyes moved over his sun-darkened skin, to the vulnerable spot where the neck meets the shoulder. The wound had been a festering, blackened bringer of death when I found him. Now, it was nothing but a whitened, indented scar.

I placed my hand there, fingers roving across the healed flesh. My palm lingered over the warmth of his skin and my own body heated at the contact. Unable to resist the urge, my hand drifted lower. My fingers gently traveled over the hard planes of his body, moving from his neck to settle in the thin spattering of dark hair that covered his chest.

He was still a bit too warm to the touch, but a far sight better than the state I’d found him in. It was difficult to believe he’d been on the brink of death only hours before.

A large, calloused hand lifted to cover my own. “Aurora,” he said, voice rough.

My heart sped. Molten silver eyes watched me, a trace of his mischievous humor once again shining in their depths. I cleared my throat. “How do you feel?”

He loosed a gravelly chuckle. “Alive, if only barely, which is quite an improvement.” His gaze moved down to where our hands lay. He frowned at the bloodstains. “You scared the shit out of me. I’ve seen God-Blooded bleed like this before. You were lucky. What usually comes after isn’t pretty.”

My stomach tightened. “I know. When I found you, I was already drained, but I had to try.”

“Oh? And what have you been doing, Princess, to use so much power?”

Beaded braids colored brown with dried blood. An inflamed wound opened to the bone. “The Eleutherians,” I said, “did you happen upon them in the Trial?”

“Oh, indeed,” he said with a low laugh, but the movement jarred him and he grimaced at the pain. “I’d hoped to be the last person to ever see them.”

“They attacked you.”

He smirked up at me, at the words that weren’t quite a question. “One of Arachne’s children needed some help hatching . . . I lent it a hand. Let’s just say the spiderling was eager to return the favor.”

I shuddered. The thought of a creature who could flay a body open in such a way . . . And Aidon had faced not only those terrible children but their infinitely stronger mother. “I see,” I said with a thick swallow. “One of the Eleutherians survived. He was found when the soldiers searched the maze. Varian asked me to heal him.”

“Varian never asks anyone to do anything.” He considered for a moment. “But the slave . . . I trust there were no slaves in the labyrinth?”

“Parthenia and the others made it safely out. Made it to your ship.”

His head fell back against the stone wall, some of the tension melting from his body. “Good.”

“You know,” I said, “they are already calling Varian the victor. They’ve just been waiting to make it official.”

“Waiting for me to die, you mean.” He scoffed. “Well, your lover certainly tried his best. Though he didn’t have it in him to kill me outright. He is too much like his father. Had to use poison.”

“Don’t call him my lover. He isn’t . . . Well, he isn’t that anymore.”

“Oh?” A brow lifted. “Does the General Prince know this?”

I ignored him. “What happened in the maze?”

He watched me a moment, no doubt considering whether to press me for an answer, then shrugged. “We killed Arachne together. Then we entered the nest and took care of the slaves who’d not yet completed their transformation. He must have removed one of her fangs while I was distracted.”

I stiffened. It was nothing I didn’t already suspect, but still, ice laced my veins. Grief and anger and emotions impossible to name swirled through me. “You were never bitten.”

“No. No, I wasn’t.”

I sensed the truth of the words as soon as they were spoken. The pieces I’d tried to fit into place finally presented a clear picture: Varian had done his best to make it look like Arachne had killed Aidon because he knew I’d never look at him the same if I learned the truth. And he was right.

“Princess, you’ve saved me twice now. When they come to see if I’m dead and find me healed, they’re going to know it was you. Maybe . . . maybe you should let Parthenia get you out of the city.”

“What? No. The Trials aren’t over. You could still—”

“Aurora, when they realize that you interfered they will come up with some reason why I cannot compete. Then they will carry out the death sentence they have already given me.”

“With Parthenia back, we can get word to your Seven. We could all run.”

Aidon went very still. His throat bobbed, then he said, “We?”

I sighed. “Parthenia told me about the King, about the ships, about your alliance.”

His eyes widened. “After learning that, you’d still leave the male you’ve known your whole life and come with me?”

“If I stay, my life will be nothing but a series of cages.”

He shook his head. “If they catch you helping me, they will punish you.”

His hand still rested in mine. I squeezed.“What more could they do to me? I’m not the one whose life is at stake here.”

Aidon dropped my hand, his own going to my cheek. Fury and fear swirled in the silver depths of his gaze. “No, Aurora, there is a great deal more they could do to you. Do you think physical death is the only kind there is? There are plenty of ways to die, Princess. I’ve spent enough time among the dead to have learned that lesson. Your body is safe enough while they have need of you, but your spirit? They could easily make life a living death for you. The Emperor knows that.”

Varian had warned me. The Emperor had threatened me, gone so far as the poison me.

“I don’t suppose you can Shadow Walk?” I asked.

“Oh, Princess,” A hint of an arrogant grin graced his lips. “As much as I'd love to carry you straight out of here . . ." his grin fell, replaced by a pained twist to his lips. "Don't think I'm up to it quite yet. Perhaps if I can stay free of that damned spelled iron, I might manage in a few days.”

“A few days. We need to stall the Trials. Maybe . . . maybe if I can force them to investigate the deaths.”

A dangerous chuckle. “Full of nefarious plans, aren’t you?” His eyes moved over me, intent, hungry. “Varian can’t have you. That beautiful mind of yours would be absolutely wasted on him.”

I blushed, heat pooling low. And yet . . . there were still untruths between us. “Tell me why you came here.”

“I thought you heard the story.”

“I heard Parthenia’s version. I want to hear yours.”

He shut his eyes. For a moment, I feared he’d given in to his body’s need for sleep. But then his deep, accented voice spoke, “As if there need be a greater reason than you.” He paused and his eyes opened to find me. “But I didn’t know that when my plans were laid. I came here because you might be too dangerous a weapon for Doria to possess.”

I turned away at the truth, green and bright and fresh. It flooded over my tongue, as well as something else. Regret, longing, earnestness. I didn’t know what to call the strange mixture of emotions that seemed to coat his words. But the truth . . . Despite how my chest tightened and my stomach went cold, it was the truth I’d expected and it was true enough.

He straightened, struggling to push himself up onto his arms. “Aurora—”

“I’m not stupid. All the competitors came here for themselves. Varian was never even here just for me. And who wouldn’t want the power to shield their troops? To heal the fallen and burn their enemies.”

“Aurora.”

“What?” I said sharply, head whirling to face him.

And there he was, his face inches from mine. Before I could react, his hand hooked behind my head. Fingers curling in my hair, he pulled me toward him. His lips brushed mine and the very world shifted—transformed around me with a flurry of loosed breath and a riot of fluttering desire. It was a kindling. An ember set aflame.

Every brush of contact had my nerves alight. He cradled my head, drawing me even closer. Then my lips parted and his tongue swept in like a conquering wave.

A low groan ripped from my throat and he . . . he laughed, damn him. So I did what any sensible female would do. I let my teeth graze his lips, then I bit down, tongue moving over the hurt I’d left.

Then it was his turn to groan.

His mouth moved faster against mine and my hands lifted to tangle in his hair, pulling him close until his body pressed against mine. I couldn’t get enough, couldn’t feel enough of him.

“Aurora,” he moaned into my mouth, my name like a prayer.

My tongue stroked against his, silencing him. The rest was a blur of sensations until, finally, “Aurora,” he repeated, the heat gone from his voice. When I didn’t answer, too focused on the hope that he’d kiss me again, on the burning hot hunger alight within me, he lifted my chin and forced me to focus on his gaze. “Listen,” he hissed.

I stilled, ears straining to discern anything over the pounding of blood in my ears.

But there, distantly, boots against stone.

We froze, barely daring to breathe. The sound of indiscernible voices floated from the same direction. There was a peal of good-humored laughter followed by the retreating sound of steps. Then silence.

“The changing of the guard,” Aidon whispered into the shell of my ear. A pleasant shiver went down my spine and I shifted closer, brushing against the rough hair of his unshaven face. A deeper jolt went straight to my core. He nuzzled against me a moment, then pressed a soft kiss to the base of my jaw. “You have to go, Princess. They will come to see if I’m still breathing soon.”

I pulled back to meet his eyes and the glazed, hungry look I found there only stoked the feeling still hot within me.

The truth was, a flame had sparked to life the moment I’d first seen him—when he’d strolled into the great hall and I first felt the Siren’s call of his dark power beckoning to my light. Each moment I’d spent with him since had fed that growing flame. I’d only been too caught up in the past—in what was demanded of me—to acknowledge it. And now I felt as if the heat of the fire within me might just consume us both.

Minutes later, after his lips pressed into mine one last time, I found myself hurrying through the dungeon toward the stairwell that led to the kitchens, then on to my own chamber. As my feet carried me forward, my thoughts turned inward, a hand brushing against lips still swollen from Aidon’s kisses.

Varian had kissed me, more times than I could count. He had claimed me in most ways a male could. And yet, none of his touches had done anything to prepare me for the feel of Aidon’s mouth on my skin—for the heat that radiated from that single point of contact through my entire body, until I felt like a phoenix, ready to burst into flame so that I could be born anew.

No. Varian’s kisses had done nothing to prepare me for that.