He swallowed, and a swooping feeling looped in my stomach. Standing here with him now felt different. Something had shifted between us. It was indescribable. It was raw, but it made me feel alive.

Something 901 thought had immediately changed his mood. His head fell forward and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Master took you,” he said plainly. I tensed.

His fingertip ran down to the bite mark on my shoulder, and I winced at the tenderness of my skin. 901’s jaw clenched and he bit out savagely, “One day I’ll fucking slaughter him. And I’ll make him pay for everything he’s ever done.”

“Shh,” I soothed, moving even closer. 901’s body was like an open flame, radiating a searing heat.

His skin twitched when I got to my tiptoes and placed my hands on his face. His blue eyes were wide, solely focused on me. I smiled as I felt his rough stubble under my fingers. My smile faded seeing a large cut to his face. 901 raised his hands to wrap around my wrists.

“What?” he questioned hoarsely.

“You keep hurting yourself to save me.”

His eyes dropped to look at the ground. When he looked back up, he said, “This time you were hurt trying to save me, too.”

I fought back the lump in my throat and said, “I couldn’t … I couldn’t bear … I didn’t want Master to kill you. I want you to live.”

901’s forehead fell forward to press against mine. I didn’t care that he was covered in blood. All that mattered was that he was alive, breathing and before me. Wanting me as much as I did him.

We stayed that way for minutes. Eventually, I slid my hand in his and guided him toward the washing area of his cell. A shower was fixed to the far wall. Releasing his hand, I walked over and turned the handle. I backed away to where 901 stood. Reaching up to the clips that kept some of my hair off my face, I released them, letting my long hair fall forward. 901 watched me the entire time with a focused intensity to his eyes.

Next, I moved my hands to the clasp at my shoulder, the one that held up my dress. When the clasp released, my dress pooled on the floor, leaving me completely bared to his eyes.

901’s nostrils flared as his gaze dropped to my breasts. Then a harsh gasp tore from his lips and he snarled, anger contorting his face. When I glanced down to see what had him so mad, I saw large bruises forming on my stomach and ribs. I briefly closed my eyes, then forced any bad thoughts away.

901 looked down to my face when I stepped closer to him. Silently, I raised my hands until they lay on the waistband of his pants, and slowly pulled them down.

901 hissed, his muscles taut as I dragged the fabric over his hips and down over his legs. I swallowed back my nerves as 901 stepped away from the gathered material at his feet. Feeling the heat of warm water from the shower billowing around the room, I reached down and took his hand in mine.

901 stared at our joined hands. Leading him forward, I guided him under the spray. 901 followed me without complaint. Second by second, the blood fell from his skin. I watched as he shut his eyes and tipped his head back under the stream.

He was so beautiful. When I was close to him, his incredible height and width made me feel so safe. I hadn’t experienced that before. At least, I didn’t think I had. And I definitely hadn’t experienced that since I had awoken as Master’s High Mona.

Shaking those thoughts away, I smiled as 901’s head fell forward. He sighed as the remnants of the match washed away.

Seeing a bar of soap on the ledge beside the shower, I picked it up and stepped under the spray. Sensing me close in, 901 opened his eyes. He never once looked away. Lifting the soap to his chest, I ran it over his identity tattoo, tracing each number slowly and with care.

901’s skin bumped even though the water was warm. Smiling, I looked up to his eyes and my heart skipped a beat at the look upon his face. 901 lifted a hand and stopped my hand on his chest, then he lifted his fingers to my mouth.

I didn’t dare move as his fingertips grazed over my lips. With water sluicing down his face, he said, “You smile at me. No one ever smiles at me.”

I took his hand on my lips and brought it to lie over my heart. “You make me want to smile.”

“Why?” At his question, his eyes searched mine deeply for the answer.

“Why do you make me smile?” I clarified. He nodded. I almost cried at the look of desperation on his face. For why he needed the answer. Stepping as close as I possibly could, I said, “Because you never hurt me. When I was forced into your cell. Even when you tried to keep me away, you still kept me close. You took me when I needed you, and you speak to me. Speak to me, like I am not a whore.”

“You are more,” he told me roughly. “My more. 152, my more.”

Tears filled my eyes and I said, “I wish I knew your name.”

901’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I knew yours.”

I smiled again, unable to do anything else with the sudden lightness that had filled my soul. Moving the soap along his chest and down to his stomach, I said, “Let me clean you. Let me erase today.”

“Only if I then do it to you,” he said. A flash of pain crossed over his face. His attention dropped to my thighs, and I saw anger stealing the brief happiness that we had found.

“No,” I said, and he shook his head. “Don’t think of it.”

“He took you,” he said. “I can’t stand that he took you. And hurt you … and has you whenever he wants.” His breathing increased in speed, and I saw his neck tense the more he thought of our reality.

“Stop,” I urged. He inhaled deep and long. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips against his chest, right over his tattoo.

901 sucked in a quick breath at my touch. Stepping back, I made sure he met my eyes. “When it is me and you alone, there is no Master. When we are here, in your cell, there is no Blood Pit.” A smile tugged on my lips. “There are no matches to the death. There are no quarters where I am held captive all day. There is your heart beating in sync with mine. Speaking the language of our old home, in the company of the male that is becoming my new home.”

“Moy prekrasnyy,” he whispered, and I closed my eyes as the words attached to my soul. My beautiful, he had called me. My beautiful …

His.

Inhaling deeply, I murmured, “Moy voin,” in return.

My warrior.

Any residual anger fell from 901’s face, and I began moving the soap over his skin. He was silent and unmoving as I cleansed him of his fight. But his eyes never left mine. When I had finished, he took the soap from my hands and brushed the wet hair from my face.