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Leila bent down and wiped the dagger clean on the man’s trousers. There was no hesitation in her actions, no tremor in her hands.

This was the first time Gideon had witnessed her in her element, and at that moment, he realized with crystal clarity that she could have easily killed him during any of their previous encounters if she had truly wanted to.

No wonder the Cardinal had decided to eliminate her. Her repeated failures to kill Gideon had made it clear that something within her had changed. Perhaps it had been evolving for some time, with Gideon merely serving as the catalyst.

She had been taken when she was young, and it took her a while to outgrow her chains. She had gained confidence and developed her own will—not just to survive but to truly live.

Or so Gideon theorized, because the woman standing before him now, with blood on her fist and a steady look in her dark eyes, was not the same girl who had been forced to work for the Brotherhood out of fear and desperation.

This Leila was fearless. Dangerous. Free.

“Do you think you’ll be able to run if necessary?” Leila asked, turning to study his face.

His entire body ached, waves of pain washing over him with each breath. But if he could stand and walk, he could probably run as well. He would have to.

He would do whatever was necessary to escape this place and get them both to safety.

“Yes,” he replied.

She gave a slight nod, though doubt lingered in her eyes. She moved toward the door, but before she could reach it, he grabbed her hand. “Leila, if I get caught—”

“You won’t,” she assured him.

“I know. But in case I do…” He swallowed hard. “Don’t look back.”

“You want me to leave you behind? I thought you didn’t trust me,” she remarked, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

His grip on her hand tightened before he forced himself to let go. The truth was complicated, tangled with desire, suspicion, and something that might have been hope.

No. He didn’t trust her—not completely.

“Yet I am willing to die for you.”

Chapter 19

Gideon led the way, his booted feet silent against the cold stone floor. This house was strikingly similar to the one Leila had burned down.

Their cell had been underground, surrounded by a few empty cells. Above them, a trapdoor led to the ground floor. Fortunately, the guard had left it open when he descended to bring their evening meal.

Gideon paused at the base of the wooden ladder. He could hear voices—low, casual conversation punctuated by the occasional laugh. The sound of men at ease.

How many? he wondered, trying to distinguish the individual voices. Three, maybe four.

Gideon quickly climbed the ladder, and Leila followed him silently.

They crawled out right under the main stairs. The main hall began just around the corner, where three men were seated on the floor, playing cards in the flickering light of several oil lamps. They had their backs to him, focused entirely on their game.

Perfect.

The first man was lean and wiry, with graying hair tied back in a queue. His movements were quick and nervous as he shuffled his cards, and Gideon could see the outline of a knife at his belt.

The second was younger, broader across the shoulders, with the kind of muscle that came from years of manual labor.

The third man had his profile turned toward Gideon, revealing a face marked by an old scar that ran from his left temple to his jaw. He was the largest of the three, with thick arms and scarred knuckles.

He turned to Leila, who had positioned herself directly behind him.

“I will distract them,” he whispered, his lips barely moving. The words were so quiet they barely stirred the air between them. “You need to run past them and get us a horse.”