"Where are you going?" I repeat. The drugs are fogging my brain, but this seems wrong. Mina should be at my side, not leaving and heading toward the compound. She should be heading for the ship…right?
Mina shakes her head, sliding out of my grip. "Let go of me, Crulden. Don't be difficult about this."
"I don't understand."
"I can't go," she says, and touches her neck, where her slave collar still winks an alert, ready to go off the moment she tries to leave the grounds. "Lord Sir won't release me." She nods toward the ship. "You need to leave with them, though."
"No." I'm not leaving without Mina. This feels like a joke. I've never wanted to escape—what would I escape to? All I've ever wanted is her. I reach forward, to snap the collar off her neck.
To my surprise, Mina puts her hand over it protectively. She shakes her head. “You can’t.”
A female steps forward, her hand on her swollen stomach, and it takes me a moment to realize that she's pregnant, that the strangeness in her scent is because she carries a child. She's human, like Mina. Like the other pregnant female. She gives me a faint smile and gestures at the ship, all the while, the mesakkah lord behind her goes very, very still. "Please come with us, Crulden. I promise we'll explain everything on the way to Risda."
"Not without Mina," I say again.
"But—" the female begins.
"Not. Without. Mina." We said we'd get out of here together, and I'm not leaving her behind. I don't care what it takes. Red begins to seep in behind my eyes. If I have to rip the throats out of everyone here—
Mina moves forward, and to my surprise, she gives me a rough shove, her hands slamming into my gut. "You stupid idiot." She's furious, anger flaring in her eyes. "Are you going to give up on your chance at freedom?"
"Yes."
"Because of me?" She laughs, the sound hard and bitter. "Why? Because you care for me?" Her voice becomes mocking. "Because you loooove me?" She shakes her head. "Newsflash, Crulden. I was just using you to get out of my situation. Now that you can't help me any longer, I don't need to bother. So quit being such a fucking baby and get on the damn ship."
I stare at her in shock. The hateful words don't sound like something she'd say. That's not the Mina I know. "You don't…mean that."
"Oh, I absolutely do," Mina says, her expression brittle. She gives me another shove, which is ridiculous, considering I'm enormous and she's so delicate. "You may have feelings for me but I don't love you, Crulden. You're just the monster. Remember the story I told you?" Her mouth twists. "No one loves the monster. Now get on the fucking ship and quit making a scene. I've got to get back to work."
She turns and storms away, and I just stare after her.
I feel as if I've been punched in the chest. Like someone's scooped all the air out of my lungs and left me hollowed out.
Mina doesn't care about me. She was using me. I'm a monster, just like she said…and she doesn't care about me. I'm useless to her now. I turn away from her, slowly. This doesn't feel real. I want to go back to my bunk, back to hiding under the blankets with Mina. I'd turn around and go back to my cell on my own if it meant she'd be there, waiting.
But she's made it clear that I'm no good to her anymore.
The people waiting on me—the mesakkah, the pregnant human, all of them—give me strangely sympathetic looks. "Come along, Crulden," the female says, gesturing at the ship. "Won't you join us? We can explain everything on board."
And because I have nowhere else to go, I nod. Part of me wants to rage—to tear this female apart, to attack the guards watching me. To take my misery out on everyone around me. But it feels like too much effort. I feel defeated in my spirit, like I have nothing to live for if Mina isn't with me.
But she wants me to go on the ship with them, so I let them lead me forward.
It isn't until I'm shown my quarters—real quarters, as if I'm a real person and not a monster—that it starts to sink in. I'm free. I'm not a gladiator. I'm not Lord Sir's pet attacker. I'm not going to be doing round after round in the training arenas with other gladiators who want to tear a chunk out of my hide, or trainers that want to take their petty grievances out on me.
I look in the mirror in the lavatory and my reflection looks odd. It takes me a moment to realize that it's because I'm no longer wearing a slave collar. My throat is bare. Mina must have removed it when I was nearly under with the drugs.