Sitara startled awake when a damp cloth was pressed gently against her face. She lashed out blindly while reaching for her actinic gift. It didn't come.

"Easy, Angel." Remiel caught her hand and massaged her palm while she came fully awake.

Sitara lay back on the cot, relieved that it was only Remiel and not a Sentinel come to take her for execution as she'd been dreaming.

"Are you all right?" he asked, again dabbing her face with the damp handkerchief. The other side of it was stained pink. She glanced down at her arms where dried blood had been wiped away. She hadn't felt him do that.

The lesson with Masego had been brutal. He hadn't granted her any mercy or shown any patience with her while he taught the new spells, despite the recent beating he'd given her. After he had left, she'd collapsed onto the cot, quivering with exhaustion and terror.

She didn't know how Remiel came to be here, but she sat up and wrapped her arms around him. She needed normal human company. Well, as normal as any she could find in her current twisted world. He held her gently, and the warmth of his touch broke through her façade of strength.

"No," she sobbed. "I'm not all right."

"What did he do to you?" Remiel asked.

"I don't want to talk about it. Just hold me."

He did.

His unusual consideration startled her again. Suppressing a shudder of revulsion, she embraced a tiny thread of Sthenic power and slipped her thoughts into his mind. She needed to understand this man who was making it too difficult for her to keep hating him.

While he stroked her hair, she sank into his memories.

She found truth and despair.

Remiel had grown up in Tamera as he'd stated. He hadn't mentioned that his father's death had been an execution. He'd been wrongly convicted of stealing from a high lord. Remiel had worked hard as a boy, trying to help support his mother and sickly younger sister, but life had beaten him down at every turn.

Then Masego had found him. He'd recruited Remiel with promises of wealth and chances at vengeance against the cruel lords who kept him trapped in poverty. He had embraced that life and for a time been blinded by the fabulous riches and access to important people who, for the first time in his life, treated him like he mattered.

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He'd proven himself adept at his new life and Masego had pushed him into greater crimes, from blackmailing nobles to seducing ladies. He had started to resist. That's when he learned the truth about his gilded cage. Masego owned him, and if he didn't continue operating with enthusiasm and success, his master would punish his family.

Bound to his master's word, Remiel had convinced himself it was better to hurt those who had hurt his family. Better them than risk the lives of the ones he loved to protect men and women who had never cared about them.

Then he'd met Sitara. At first he'd approached the relationship like all the rest, but she had affected him more than any other woman, and new doubts had begun to surface.

Sitara withdrew from Remiel's mind. She'd seen more than she'd intended. Remiel was enslaved as thoroughly as she. He had taken advantage of her. That truth could not be ignored. And yet, she saw much of herself reflected in his pitiful life.

He hated the injustice of the world and had hoped to change it before his life had been twisted by their master. He knew the current system top to bottom, better even than Sitara.

Together, they might be able to do what neither of them could hope to do alone. She leaned back to look him in the eye, searching his face for reflections of the secrets she'd pulled from his heart. Could she really step beyond their painful past?

Remiel touched her cheek. "I'm sorry this has happened to you, Angel."

"It was my fault. I challenged him too soon."

He cupped her face in his hands. "Why did you come back? You were free of all this! I was happy to see you return, but I would've been happier knowing you had escaped."

"There is no escape. Not until we win."

"It's impossible." He dropped his hands and leaned his forehead against hers. "Oh, Sitara, what a pair we make."

There, he'd said it. He'd identified himself with her.

"We do."

"We do what?" he asked.

"We make a pair," she said, taking his hands in hers and sitting taller. "Together we know enough to break out, to finally make real changes."

"He'll never let us."

"He can't stop us if he's dead."

Remiel cringed and glanced around nervously. "You can't say things like that."

"Our lives are forfeit already, but we have a choice. We can let him decide when and how to kill us, depending on his will and pleasure." She gripped his hands tight. "Or we can work together and bring him down."

"How?"

"Do you trust me?"

"I don't trust anyone."

She couldn't argue with that, but there had to be a way. "Are you willing to try?" She touched his cheek. "Do you believe that even broken lives can become something better?"

"I don’t think it's possible."

The same terror she struggled to control shone in his eyes. He'd been enslaved to Masego longer than she. He'd been conditioned to this life, but she felt the spark of hope in his soul.

"I'll show you it can be done," she said.

"How?"

"We just need a little more help."

"Who?"

"Kevlin."