Page 169 of Interion

“I don't understand—should I know what that is?”

Zion stared at me a moment longer, then started laughing.

“You never knew about this?” he asked incredulously.

“What should I know?” My hands were sweaty from nerves.

“You never wondered why the most famous brothels in the city were staffed by Drutes women?”

“I didn't even know there used to be Drutes brothels.”

Now I was curious. There had been no one to tell me about these obscene peculiarities, and I doubted either Breno or Ambrose would touch such a subject—especially since I was both a woman and Drutes.

“They were the most lucrative and were banned after the Great War. In ancient times, fathers would take their sons to these places—it was like a rite of passage, a test. There were reasons they were so special. Drutes is represented by the Goddess of War, who also governs desires and pleasures,” he explained as I continued attacking.

“And what exactly makes Drutes women different?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You never figured it out on your own?”

I didn't know what to say. Was he asking if I touched myself?

“I… I…” I tried to form a response, but I was too embarrassed—my blows barely had any force behind them. I couldn't think and fight at the same time. “Yes, I'm not that innocent.”

I attacked at an angle where he couldn't see my face—I must have been purple by now.

“And was it normal?” he asked curiously.

I looked at him, distressed.

“And how would I know what you consider normal? No one ever explained to me what's normal. If you want to know, then come find out,” I taunted, delighting in how his mouth fell open in surprise.

I seized the moment and prepared my best kick, aiming at the center of his chest. My foot connected, but he blocked with his forearms, absorbing most of the force. The impact still pushed him back, his feet sliding across the arena's stone floor. I planted my feet, amazed by his speed but happy to have pushed him back at all. He still stared at me, but now with a smile on his lips and the mark of my shoe imprinted on his white shirt.

“You can be sure I’ll find out, Kyller.” In his eyes, the ocean began to churn. “When the time comes, your body will whisper all the secrets it hides, and when I’m done...” I swallowed hard as my toes curled inside my sneakers. “You’ll wish you had more secrets to tell, just so I won’t stop.”

We both felt it when my scent filled the air. Zion closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the same way he had that night in the locker room. I couldn’t blush any harder—I was already at my limit. After a few seconds of staring at my red face, he blinked several times and his expression returned to normal.

“Now we’ll alternate. We’ll attack and defend at the same time.”

I tried to clear my mind of what he’d said, but the words had dug in so deep that I lost my bearings.

“There’s no set order?”

“No. Think of it as a real fight. I’ll keep the same pace as before so you can get used to it.”

“And what’s the safe word?” I asked anxiously as he got into position. I could already tell this was going to be a disaster.

“The safe word?” He thought for a moment, then a sly smile spread across his lips. “The safe word will be good-ar.”

Δ

We trained until midnight, if you could even call that mess training. I couldn’t figure out when to attack and when to defend, so I kept ending up on the ground—on my back, on my stomach, on my knees. Zion was patient, but I was getting frustrated with myself. Learning the moves was one thing, but knowing where and when to use them was something else entirely. He promised it would get better with time, but in my head, the patterns were a jumbled mess, and I panicked every time I had to decide what to do next. All I could do was trust his reassuring words and push myself harder each day to make sense of it all.

As soon as we got home, Ambrose texted me saying he needed to talk the next day before work. I asked if we could just talk then, but he said it would be better in person. That only made me more anxious.

Like the night before, I slept in Zion’s room, trying to keep as much distance as possible from his body. The next day was going to be difficult, and I was steeling myself to talk to Adele. My throat tightened every time I thought about her marks. The memories haunted me—along with the apparition in the hallway.

Somehow, the next day, I would find a way to get to the bottom of everything.