“In the arena,” he clarifies a touch too quickly, his eyelids twitching and tensing in the darkness. Rebellion is never something Katurian can afford. Not in this world. Not in his old world. “We don’t go down in the arena without a fight.”

It’s only half true, and he knows it. Eva, oh, she knows how to survive. She knows how to take the steps that matter, how to quiet the screams in her head long enough to make it out. But what can Katurian do? Cry and scream and then lightly nick his murderer in the neck?

“I need to do better,” he says, answering the thoughts out loud. "I can do better."