It was a stupid thing to say, but it gave him some small feeling of control over the situation. And the look on Sable’s face, surprised, incensed, was worth it.

“Let’s find out,” he said, tightly. And the mallet came down again.

This one was easier to endure than the first strike. Every one that followed became easier still as Perry retreated into his mind. His father had prepared him for this, and he felt a strange sense of gratitude. A euphoric closeness to times past, which had been terrible, but which had included Vale and Liv. They’d made him good at finding quiet, even peacefulness, in the face of pain.

When Sable came to Perry’s hands, tears pricked at his eyes. They hurt the worst, maybe because they had been smashed so many times before.

Hess turned green and left first. Kirra followed soon after with the dark-haired guard.

Only the men posted at the door stayed, too afraid of Sable to leave.

23. Aria

23

ARIA

Something terrible was happening to Perry.

Aria felt it.

“Sable! Hess!” she yelled again. “Where are you?” She pounded on the heavy steel door, screams ripping through her throat. “I’ll kill you!”

“Aria, stop.” Roar came up behind her. He wrapped her up, pinning her arms.

“Don’t touch me!” She struggled against him. “Let go! You did this!” She didn’t want to turn on him, but she couldn’t hold back. “You did this, Roar!”

He held on, and he was stronger, and she couldn’t push him away. She stopped fighting and stood, trapped against him, her muscles shaking.

“I know,” he said, when she was still. “I’m sorry. I know I did this.”

She hadn’t expected him to say that. Hadn’t expected to hear the guilt in his voice. “Just let me go.”

Roar released her and she spun, looking from his face to Soren’s, seeing their worry and fear, and suddenly tears poured from her eyes.

Her gaze cast around the small room. She needed to get away from them. With no better options, she climbed to the upper bunk and curled as close to the wall as she could, trying to keep back the sobs that tore through her.

Below, Soren said, “Do something, Outsider.”

“Are you blind?” Roar replied. “I tried.”

“Well, keep trying! I can’t take this.”

She felt the mattress sag. “Aria . . .” Roar’s hand rested on her shoulder, but she stiffened and moved away.

She was crying too hard to talk, and if he touched her, he would know that she hated him right now. She hated everyone. Cinder, for having been captured. Her mother, for dying. Her father, for being nothing but a figment of her imagination. Liv, because the thought of her only made Aria ache more.