Tess' parents had described Malluk’s true temple to her before, but it was much more impressive in person. The gray stone building was built into the volcano itself, and at least a thousand steps carved into the rocky mountainside led up to its massive double doors. Two hellhound statues held up the black tile roof, the dog-like creatures’ faces set in vicious snarls, baring sharp, pointed fangs and teeth.

Matt, with his men still behind him, took Tess around to a side door. As soon as they entered the first room, a real hellhound bounded in, its huge paws thudding heavily against the black marble floor. The massive beast was as tall as Matt, even though it was on all fours. It was covered in coarse black fur, with tall pointed ears—one of which had a chunk missing—and eyes that glowed like embers in a fire.

It gave a single deep bark and nudged Matt with its head. It was obviously happy to see him, like a regular dog greeting its owner.

Matt pushed back, fondly it seemed, and the monster gave him another playful nudge. “Not now, Pyra,” Matt said, his voice still had the edge to it, but he also sounded unusually kind as he spook to the dog.

Apparently, Matt wasn’t completely heartless, Tess thought as she watched him with his pet.

“Get her a steak,” he ordered one of his men.

“Yes, sir,” a short, stocky man answered and started leading the way.

Matt gave the dog a push and nodded in that direction. “Go on.” The hellhound started at him for a moment longer then obediently followed the man.

Matt tugged on the rope that still bound Tess' hands, getting her to follow as he walked through a hallway and down a long corridor of empty cells. His men trailed after. When he opened the door to the last cell on the right, Tess was suddenly filled with terror. Her breathing became shallow and her eyes stung. She couldn’t go in there. She couldn’t be left in this small cage by herself. She couldn’t be alone! she thought, panicking.

In her sudden desperation, though there was nowhere to go, she made a run for it. She jerked the rope free from Matt’s hand and shot past the men who didn’t even bother to stop her.

But Matt caught up too quickly. He grabbed her arm, spun her around, and then backhanded her with a closed hand. The blow had enough force to knock her hard onto the black marble floor several feet back. She turned and stared up at him with wide eyes, realizing now that he had been going easy on her before.

The men snickered at her pathetic escape attempt as Matt walked over to where she had landed. He took a handful of her hair and roughly pulled her to her feet. “Don’t try that again,” he growled, then dragged her back to the cell and threw her in.

She stumbled, but caught herself on the wall, then hurried back to him and grabbed his wrist. “Matt,” she whispered imploringly, too soft for the others to hear. “Please...”

He took hold of the tops of her arms and slammed her back against the wall. She winced in pain as she hit the stone and his fingers viciously dug into her. He leaned in until his lips were next to her ear. “I tried to save you,” he breathed, the angry words were barely audible. Then he pulled back and kissed her fiercely.

She returned it feelingly and caressed his stomach and chest under his jacket, silently promising that she would be of use if he would only take her with him instead of leaving her alone in this cell.

His mouth softened against hers for just a second before he leaned back and met her gaze, frowning as a tear slid down her cheek. There was some emotion in his eyes, but she couldn’t read what it was. After a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut, and when they opened again, they were cold and hard once more. He let her go and stepped out of the cell.

Though she didn’t say it out loud, her eyes begged him not to leave her—but he wouldn’t even look at her now. He closed the door, turned the key in the lock, and walked away. She slid down the wall into a sitting position, pulled her legs up against her chest, and cried.

The floor beneath her was hard, and the stone wall behind her back was warm, like everything else in here because of the magma that flowed far below. Luckily, vents let out a lot of the heat, and the small barred window let in a breeze, but it was still too hot.

But, even with the heat, Tess desperately wanted someone to hold her right now. Every day of her life, she had been surrounded by people who loved her; never once had she been alone.

She hugged her knees tighter as more tears fell. At least Ayden wasn’t here, she thought. At least he wouldn’t die with her. And even if Kieran came back, she would still have Tess' parents and Cael and Lotus to deal with. They would find a way to stop her—they had before, and they also had Ayden this time. That was a good thought to hold on to.

But she couldn’t make herself focus on that. All she could think about was how much she wanted Ayden with her. She wouldn’t feel so scared, so hopeless, so broken if he were here. She could do anything as long as he was beside her. They were a team; they weren’t supposed to be apart. She didn’t know how to function without him.

She could have laughed at how pathetic she was now. She had thought that she was so strong, practically invincible. There was nothing she couldn’t do, nothing that could scare her. But her only strengths were physical—Ayden had the rest. Now, without him, it was like she wasn’t fully there. She felt lost and weak.

Hours passed, and the cell grew darker as the sun moved across the sky, no longer shining in through the east-facing window. She sat in the corner now with her head leaning against the wall and her eyes closed. She imagined that someone was there—they were just being quiet, and if she opened her eyes, they would be sitting there: Ayden, or her father, or maybe Sera. Someone... anyone...

Suddenly, she heard someone enter through the main door at the end of the room. Her eyes flew open as she jumped up and hurried to the bars of her cell to look out. Two of the guards that had been with Matt earlier were heading for her.

“Mathias wants you brought to him,” one of them told her.

She couldn’t help her small sigh of relief. She bounced slightly on her heels as she impatiently waited for them to let her out.

“Eager, huh?” the man said as he unlocked the door and opened it for her.

The second chuckled as he took the other end of the rope that was still tied around her wrists and started leading the way. “Screwing him won’t get you out of anything.”

Was that what he wanted? she wondered, not knowing how she felt about that.

“He’s just getting some use out of you before he sacrifices you,” the first said, interrupting her thoughts. “Doesn’t like pretty things going to waste.”

“Yep, does it all the time,” the second added, “so don’t go thinking you’re special.”

She just kept walking and didn’t say anything. But she wanted to believe that she was special, that she wasn’t just another screw or another sacrifice to him. It didn’t really bother her that he had used her for sex; after all, she had basically done the same with him. She just wanted to believe that some of the friendship was real. He had to care about her, at least a little. Why else would he have tried to let her go?

She barely noticed the long corridors she was being led down, and was a little surprised when they were already stopping inside a large bedroom. Matt was standing on the far side of the room, looking out of a window, only wearing black pants and smoking a cigarette. Like the rest of the temple, the room had gray stone walls and a black marble floor. The large four-poster bed sat against the wall next to him was made from dark walnut wood and covered in crimson, much like the one in his Halimi apartment.

He turned around and nodded to the men. They left, closing the door after them. “Come here,” he told Tess, his voice calm and quiet now. He took a drag and blew it out slowly as he watched her, slightly surprised at her obeying. When she was standing in front of him, he held the cigarette between his lips and untied the rope.

She rubbed her red wrists. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

He took the cigarette out of his mouth. “Take off your clothes.”

She glanced up at him. “Why?”

“You need to put that on.” He motioned to a black robe with red trim that was laid out on the bed.

“Special sacrificial clothes,” she guessed.

“Yes.”

“And if I don’t?”

He shrugged. “I’ll bring my men back in here, and we’ll do it the hard way,” he answered indifferently.

She sighed and started stripping. To her surprise, he turned his back to her and looked out the window. “You’re not gonna try anything?”

“Should I?”

“Just out of character for you,” she said as she took her boots off.

“Maybe you don’t know my character at all,” he told her, then added, more to himself than to her it seemed, “Nobody knows me... but they all think they do.”

The cool breeze from the window felt good against her skin when she took off her shirt. His room wasn’t nearly as hot as the cell had been, partly because of its location, but mostly because the window was a lot bigger and faced east, away from the sun.

“What about your friends? Can you be yourself with them?” she asked, removing her pants now, which clung to her slightly sweaty skin.

“Friends,” he scoffed. “I’m always myself, but that doesn’t mean people see what’s behind the cover.”

She glanced over at him for a second and smiled a bit. “They only see your good looks?”

He laughed, but it sounded sour. “That, my title, my money, my power and position in the church...”

“My cousin has that problem,” she told him, then paused to pull the robe over her head. It was surprisingly soft and lightweight “She’s a healing cleric,” she continued, sounding conversational, as though they were just friends talking. “She’s gentle, beautiful, and delicate-looking, so people just assume she’s simple and weak. Especially men like...”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

He flicked the rest of his cigarette out the window and turned to face her again. “Now you think you know me?”

“I’m trying to figure you out.”

“Any luck?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think you’re as bad as you pretend to be. I think you do care... I think that’s why you wanted to save me.”

“Temporary insanity,” he told her gruffly. “Trust me, I’m over it.”

No, that wasn’t true, she thought. He cared. He had to care. “Matt,” she said softly as she slipped her hand into his. “You don’t really wanna do this... you—”

“Don’t tell me what I want,” he told her, suddenly angry. His grip tightened, crushing her hand, and she winced in pain.

“Matt, please...” she said, tears filling her eyes.

The sight only infuriated him more. “My name is Mathias!” he growled, throwing her hand away from him.

“Mathias... please don’t kill me.”

“And what would that get me?” he asked with a short, bitter laugh.

She looked at the floor for a moment and chewed on her bottom lip. There was only one thing she could offer. She stepped closer, put a hand on his bare chest and lifted her face to him. “Whatever you want,” she told him meaningfully.

He pulled her against him and kissed her. She responded in kind, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing closer. It felt good to be in his arms, to welcome his kiss—not in the way it had been before, when it had been about a fiery passion; now it was about comfort, warmth, something to hold on to.

But abruptly he shoved her away, causing her to stumble back into one of the bed posts. “We’re not so different really.” His voice was low, a hint of loathing in it. “Both willing to screw anyone if it serves our purpose.”

“What purpose did it serve last time?” she asked, but he didn’t answer. She knew he had wanted her before, he must want her still. She moved back to him, sliding her hands around his waist. “I want you, you want me, what’s wrong with that?” she asked, using his own words.

He scoffed. “And your puppy?”

She squeezed her eyes closed as her heart twisted painfully. She took a deep breath and lifted her head, meeting his gaze again. “Doesn’t... doesn’t matter. I won’t see him again.” She struggled for a moment to hold back her tears. “I just... feel alone. I just want—”

“Whatever you can get?” he spat. “Even if it’s someone you hate?”

She sighed and looked down before admitting, “I don’t though… I should.” She laughed humorlessly. “The gods know I should... but I don’t.”

He pushed her away. “Not interested.”

She laid her hands on him again, slid them around his waist and held him. She kissed his bare chest, and then leaned her cheek against his warm skin. “Please,” she begged softly. She needed him to touch her. He was all she had.

He hesitated for another second, then growled. He grabbed her chin, jerked her head up, and kissed her roughly. His arms circled around her and crushed her against his hard body.

She kissed him back and held him just as close. He felt good, and even though her fear, through her pain, she still felt the pleasure of his passionate kiss. And then, Ayden came to mind. She couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if it were Ayden kissing her instead of Matt.

Ayden’s touch was always gentle and loving; his kiss would be like that, though she had a hard time imagining it when Matt’s kiss was all she knew. But Ayden’s hands wouldn’t grab her and squeeze until they caused a little pain, he would be tender. He would be the complete opposite of this. She was a little surprised at how much she liked the idea. She had never once thought about Ayden like that until now, and she found that it excited her. Desire swirled in her belly, and her kiss became more fervent.

Matt pushed her against the wall and released her mouth as he pulled her robe up, bringing her out of her thoughts. He grabbed her waist and lifted her, his smoldering gaze meeting hers as he undid he pants with one hand.

But suddenly he froze. He stared into her eyes for a moment, looking almost sad. Then his face hardened. He abruptly dropped her and stalked off towards the door.

She gaped after him. “Where are you going?”

“To fuck someone else!” he said harshly.

Her eyes filled with tears again. “But... why?”

“I don’t know!” he admitted furiously and left, slamming the door behind him.

She began to cry harder, but then, hearing the key turn in the lock, she pushed her tears away and hurried over to the open window. Her small shred of hope disappeared when she saw that it was a long drop to the jagged rocks below.

She supposed jumping out and killing herself might be the heroic thing to do—that way she couldn’t be a sacrifice for Kieran. Then she remembered that it didn’t matter—Matt had the dagger, and she wasn’t really necessary, just desired for the pain her death would inflict on her family. But if there was going to be any torture involved, jumping would be the better option.

Suddenly she remembered the rope that she had been bound with. She picked it up off the floor and, holding one end, tossed the rest of it out the window. It would still be quite a jump when she got to the bottom, but she could probably make it. She tied her end of the rope to the bedpost, and then climbed onto the windowsill.

She took hold of the rope and started to back out, but she hit something hard just an inch outside the window. The air turned a deep red for a moment, and she groaned in defeat. She knew a shield spell when she saw one. It must have been some divine enchantment. A clever one, too, to block living things but let all else through. It was probably meant to give people false hope, just to mess with them. It worked.

She sighed heavily as she got down and untied the rope, which she tossed out the window. Now Matt wouldn’t be able to tie her up again. Well, not until he got more rope... but at least it was an inconvenience, she thought lamely.

When she went to sit on the bed, Matt’s silver cigarette case on the bedside table caught her attention. She had never seen it up close before. She picked it up and ran her fingers over the intricately engraved picture on the top. It was just fancy, swirling patterns—except for a hellhound in the center.

__________

Tess waited for hours, though in Matt’s room it wasn’t so bad, since being alone was only a temporary thing. She knew he was coming back... though it was dark out, and she could see the almost-full moon through the window, when he finally did. She was lying on his bed, looking at her locket in the light from the lantern on the bedside table, and wishing it had a picture of Ayden in it as well as her family.

As soon as Matt came in, she wiped her tears away and sat up. He closed the door behind him and set some food down on a small, round table against the wall. “What’s that?” he asked, calm again.

She held up the open locket to show him the tiny picture inside. He moved closer to see it. “It’s my parents and my little brother.” She smiled a little. “We call him Creepy because he loves insects. He has a big collection—Mom hates it.”

There was a touch of amusement in Matt’s eyes, but it was quickly gone and he was back to frowning. “Why do you wear a picture of them?” he asked, as if it were a very strange thing to do.

She closed the locket and let it fall back against her chest. “It’s kind of a family heirloom, passed down. My mom gave it to me the night before I left home. It’s meant to be a reminder that the people inside love me no matter what.” She took a deep breath and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, again.

He lit a cigarette. “You’re different. I don’t like it,” he grumbled as he leaned back against the wall between the bedside table and the window, gazing out at the dark ocean. “You were better when you were tough.”

“Now missing my family means I’m weak?”

He shrugged. “The crying, and... you just are.”

“Sorry,” she huffed. “Being scared and held captive doesn’t exactly bolster my spirits.”

He turned his head to look at her. “Why are you scared?” he asked seriously.

“Because... well... are you planning to...” She swallowed. She didn’t even want to say the word.

He knew what she was thinking. “No torture. I’ll make sure it’s quick and painless,” he promised quietly.

“Thanks for that, at least.”

He took a drag and exhaled some smoke, almost in a sigh, as he studied her. “You’re still scared,” he noted.

It seemed he didn’t like that for some reason. But wasn’t he used to people being terrified around him? Wasn’t this what he did all the time? His own men were scared of him. Why would he care if she were afraid?

“I’m scared of dying,” she answered.

He looked confused. “What about in the Spirit Cave? You didn’t seem so worried about it then.”

“I didn’t think. I just...” She shrugged. “I just knew I had to save you.”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “Bet you’re regretting that now.”

“No,” she said honestly. “It was the right thing to do. We were... well, I thought we were friends,” she mumbled, then sighed. “And how can you regret doing the right thing?”

“Easily,” he answered without hesitation.

“So... why do you do it?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Serve Malluk? Be bad? Hurt and kill innocent people?”

He raised his right hand to show the birthmark on the back of his wrist—he didn’t wear his wristbands here. “It’s my destiny. I’m the heir, remember?”

“My mom doesn’t believe in destiny or fate. She says you do what you want.”

He scoffed. “What world’s she from?”

“Actually...” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

They fell silent, and she watched him for a while as he stood there, smoking. The moonlight touched the right side of his body with a silvery light, while the lamp on the table gave his other side a golden glow. It was like his two faces—one hot and the other cold. She wished he would go back to how he was before. She wanted him to be warm again. She wanted to feel like they were friends... at least a little, instead of enemies. She wanted him to be the person she had thought he was, not the cold man in front of her now.

Once again, she felt the bitter disappointment and sadness of losing a friend. She had never had any actual friends aside from Ayden. Her cousin didn’t count since she was family and just... Sera. Apparently Tess tended to be too much for people—she came on a bit too strong, her mother had told her. Tess had just rolled her eyes. She wouldn’t be friends with anyone if she had to tone herself down for them. But Matt was the same, and she had been happy to find someone who was like her. At least, she had thought he was.

She took a deep breath and sighed. “Do you like it?” she wondered. “Serving Malluk, I mean.”

He shrugged. “Sure. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t serve Him.” He looked down at his birthmark. “I was born to serve Him. It’s why I’m here.”

“So... do you really wanna rule all of Kelstone? It’s just hard for me to imagine you like that—all caged up, sitting on a throne and having others do everything for you. I thought you didn’t like rules, didn’t like being held down like that. You like to be in the thick of it just as much as I do... don’t you?”

He glanced at her, his expression softening a bit. It seemed as though he might say something, but then his eyes hardened again. He looked back out the window and sighed. “Why do you ask so many damn questions?”

“Because I don’t understand. My family fights against people like you. It’s my dad’s job. In my head, the good guys and bad guys were always so clear-cut. You’re not. You’re not good, but you’re not all bad either. I’ve heard stories about your mom, but you’re not like her. She didn’t have a heart... you do.”

“You don’t know me!” he snapped.

“Then why don’t you tell me?”

He turned away from her again and ran a hand through his hair. “Just go eat or something,” he commanded wearily.

She let it go and obediently walked to the table, forcing herself to eat a roll even though she wasn’t hungry. It just made her knotted stomach a bit queasy.

When she turned back, Matt had flicked his cigarette out the window and was already in bed, lying on top of the crimson sheets—it was too warm to need blankets here. “Get some sleep,” he ordered, extinguishing the lantern.

“I don’t have a bedroll, and the floor is—”

“Get over here,” he said impatiently.

She hurried to the other side of the bed and lay down. She turned on her side to look at him in the dim moonlight. He was lying on his back with his hands resting on his stomach and his eyes closed. She wondered what was going through his mind.

After a minute, she touched his arm lightly. “Mat—Mathias.”

He turned his head to look at her. “What?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked incredulously.

“For not torturing me, for letting me stay with you and not throwing me back in that cell, for not making me be alone... more or less,” she said, mumbling the last part.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re thanking the man who’s going to kill you tomorrow. You don’t think that’s a bit strange?”

“About as strange as a killer caring about their victim’s comfort.”

He huffed. “Go to sleep.” He turned his head back and closed his eyes again.

She kept her hand on his arm. “Can I be close to you?” she asked quietly.

He looked up at the ceiling and stared at it for a long moment, his face unreadable. Finally, he sighed. “Yeah, fine,” he muttered.

She scooted closer and rested her cheek against his bare shoulder. He didn’t move at all. She hadn’t expected him to hold her or anything; he hadn’t even done that the night they had been together. She wondered if he ever held anyone, if anyone ever held him. Who did he have to care about him? He certainly didn’t have a loving family like she did.

She snuggled closer and hugged his large arm as she fought back tears. She wanted to cry for her own situation, but also for his, because she had the feeling that she wasn’t the only one who was alone.