"How dare you come in here and--"

"Please." Cyken lifted both hands. "I didn't come here to pick a fight."

"A little late for that."

"All I wanted was for you to acknowledge the truth. You know that."

Pietas laid a hand over his torn heart. "No, here's what I know. You think me unworthy. You suckered me into thinking you cared about me. You touched me when you knew I longed for you. You used my love for you to protect the one who stole you from me. You--" He turned away. "You violated every trust I ever put in you. That's what I know."

A blockade of silence between them filled the room.

Cyken came up close behind him and set one hand on Pietas's shoulder.

"No." He turned, backed away from the man's warmth. "Do not touch me. Don't you ever touch me again."

"My king." Cyken performed a Sempervian salute. "I have served you for too many centuries for you to doubt my loyalty. All I wanted was for you to admit Izzorah is immortal. One of us. You told me you created him with your own hands. I came here because I needed you to admit there's no sense in killing him. I want you to tell the whole truth about that."

Cyken wanted truth? Here was truth.

Pietas would stab a blade deep into the gut of the man who'd stolen Cyken's heart. Twist it. Tear him apart. Rip off Izzorah's head and destroy him so completely he could never resurrect.

How could Pietas have been so foolish? Why had he held onto hope he could win Cyken back? Why had he longed for Cyken to see the man Pietas truly was? The man who loved him beyond all reason. The man who was terrified of losing him.

Because facing eternity without Cyken at his side...

Pietas turned away, arms crossed, head down.

Dark Hair patted Pietas on the shoulder. "You come. I scrub back."

The head had white walls but no windows. Not dark, but so closed Pietas could not force himself to enter. The shower stall also housed the toilet and sink. The floor sloped toward a central drain. A vertical life-pod. Worse than prison. In prison, you could pace.

Dark Hair edged around him and turned on the water. "Look. Big towel. You like this, I know. Soft." She stuck one hand under the water. "See? Is hot water. You come." She beckoned. "I help you. Stay with you."

Pietas took a step back.

"I stay here." She held out her hands. "You come. Feel better, you get clean."

With his gaze locked on hers, taking one halting step after the other, Pietas crossed to her.

Dark Hair took his hands and smiled up at him. "You like hynder get new saddle. Is okay. Saddle not bad. I promise." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

With her aid, he stripped and she placed their clothes outside the door for Mase to collect.

Pietas stepped under the steaming water. Closing his eyes, he let the water pour over his head and down onto his shoulders. The tension of the day eased. With his eyes closed, he could picture himself aboard his ship, in his bathing chamber. Safe. Not locked in. Free.

He let out a long sigh. "I needed this. Thanks."

"Will like clean clothes."

"Mmm."

"He very nice."

"Maybe."

Dark Hair moved Pietas's hair over one shoulder. She ran both hands across his back, making circles as she bathed him. "You not like Mase?"

"I don't know him. I've been lied to, fired upon, stolen from, and otherwise abused too many times to trust without proof."

"Face me."

"Hmm?" He turned to find Dark Hair standing on a stool. He had to tilt back his head to meet her gaze. "Why?"

"Close eyes. I wash face."

When he had, she washed from his brow to his chin. "You rinse."

He stuck his face under the water, wiped it with one hand. "Thank you."

"Turn around again, I wash hair." She poured shampoo into one hand.

Pietas turned his back, and angled the spray away from his face. "If you're trying to make up for robbing me, it's working."

She gave a low purr. "Good." Her claws on his scalp sent shivers down his arms.

After the shampoo, she soaped his chest, and when he'd rinsed, curled her fingers into his hair. With her standing above him, he had to tip back his head to accept her kiss. How he'd love to lift her into his arms, press her against the wall and have her heat surround him.

Dark Hair pulled back. "Have idea."

She directed him to sit atop the closed toilet seat, and faced him. "You hold here." She placed his hands on her waist. With the water cascading over them, she lowered herself onto his lap.

Pietas gasped.

She halted. "This cause pain?"

"Pain?" He pressed his brow against hers. "What pain?" He pulled her down to him and parted his lips for her kiss.

Light at the window woke Pietas, though it had to be an hour or more till dawn. Not time to rise yet. Immortals needed two solid hours every day or so, but for him, an extra hour kept pain at bearable levels. He closed his eyes again and stayed in bed, lying on his left side, hand tucked beneath the pillow in his usual sleep position. He had a faint memory of spooning with Dark Hair.

Sex had a way of releasing endorphins that pushed his usual pain far, far away. In a minute, he'd have to move, and it would come rushing back. It always did. But for now, he savored the respite like a dive into cool water on a hot day. How long since he had taken a day to rest? He had no recollection. Perhaps he wouldn't have to move for a little longer.

A small sound came to him. Feet on an uncarpeted floor. Inside the room. He opened his eyes to full daylight. No one in bed with him. No one between himself and the window.

He pulled his arm out from under the pillow and his pain came screaming back. So harsh, he clenched his teeth against it, but he remained silent. He'd learned young never to reveal pain. Never to cry out.

Another sound. Cloth on skin. Someone dressing.

Pietas braced his right hand against the bed, preparing to move, and caught sight of his left hand. His naked left hand. Stripped of the Dragon Ring. He never cast off Cyken's gift, not even to sleep with someone else. His portal bracelet remained in place. It was sealed around his wrist, preventing his being trapped.

No one could imprison him anywhere.

Dark Hair must have taken the ring while he slept. She had to be a trained thief to remove it from his hand. Who else had the opportunity?

Mouth clamped shut, he prepared himself for more pain.