“Let them handle this,” Reina says.

I don’t answer. Instead, I straighten as best as I can and leave them behind.

Stumbling down the hallways, I grip the iron railings that weren’t there earlier, almost as if the magic is apologizing to me for before, giving me a peace offering, or maybe I’m reading into it and seeing what I want. Either way, I accept them and use them as I wander the halls.

I don’t know where I’m going, but eventually I overhear heated voices, and I pause outside an open black door. Inside the cavernous black room, Lucius sits upon his throne with Xander and Roman on one side and Ethan on the other.

“It seems fair to me,” Xander says.

Ethan glares at him, his mouth a grim line.

I wonder if blood still coats his teeth—if he found time to wash his mouth out before Xander and Roman got to him. He clearly didn’t have time to change.

“What about you?” Lucius’s eyes snake toward me standing in the doorway. “Would you see him punished for his stunt?”

I swallow. My throat catches with the movement, and I regret not taking the water Diantha offered. Ethan watches me. I wish he had enough shame to not meet my eyes, but he does. The fierceness in them might make anyone else cringe. I don’t. Irrational fierceness is often the result of extreme vulnerability and a willingness to lash out at others so that they never bother to notice the vulnerable parts. I see them. I recognize them because I have them too—or at least similar ones. But I had Parker. I had Parker to make me acknowledge those vulnerable places. He was an anchor that kept me from tearing apart everything and everyone around me. He still is.

Maybe Ethan never had a person to keep him contained. I can’t pretend to know his story.

I suspect he didn’t. Nothing is holding him back. The scar on my abdomen proves it.

Xander gives me an encouraging nod. I can use this moment to my advantage. This is a game, after all. Ethan played dirty first. I would be justified in letting him reap his reward.

I look to Roman. The two of them dragged him here together. He must want the same thing. His face gives me nothing, leaving it up to me.

Lucius waits, looking like he’s teetering on the edge of boredom.

“No,” I answer.

“Ava,” Xander starts, but Lucius cuts him off with a cold glare.

“She’s decided.” He stands from his throne. Now it’s made of stone blocks, giving it hard edges like someone tried to combine medieval and modern styles. He moves toward the door, looking back for a moment on his way. “It would have made you weak to decide otherwise.” His eyes flick to Xander, and then he is gone.