The plane bumped as we landed. Viktor looked back from his seat at the front. Four of Zaal’s males had been brought along. They would play the part of Viktor’s Georgian gulag’s guards.

When the plane drew to a stop, several cars and vans stopped beside us. Wraiths.

Valentin growled low in his throat when males dressed all in black left the cars. Flicking my wrist, I gestured for Zaal and Valentin to take their places. Three of Zaal’s males came toward us and attached rope around our necks. My muscles tensed at being back in this position. The male that was holding my rope sent me an apologetic look. It helped calm the flames sparking in my chest.

When I glanced to Zaal, he was calm and quiet. Valentin, at having something back around his neck, wasn’t faring so well. But he held it together.

The sound of the plane door opening cut through the cabin, and my heart slammed against my chest. Viktor disappeared down the steps. We were all quiet in the plane as we listened to Viktor discussing his “cargo” with the Wraiths. Ten minutes later, Viktor shouted for us to disembark.

Zaal’s byki led us forward by our rope collars. I went first, Zaal following behind. Valentin was at the rear.

The night was black. As I was led down the steps, I glanced up through a fallen strand of hair and saw miles and miles of what appeared to be barren wasteland. The perfect disguise, I thought, knowing that beneath the ground was a slave city.

The Wraiths were gathered in a perfect formation. Their guns were loaded and aimed at us, just in case we charged. They stared at me as I stopped to stand next to Viktor. A few of them murmured in quiet whispers when Zaal stopped, too. But their reaction to Valentin trudging down the steps was clear to anyone with eyes. The guards tensed and stared at the monstrous scarred male as he descended to the tarmac.

The Wraith in charge stared at Valenin in shock. Moving closer to Viktor, he said, “So you weren’t lying, you truly have 194 in your gulag.”

Viktor nodded. A fake prideful smile on his face. He too was acting the part of the perfect gulag owner. “We do. And he is one of the best fighters I have ever seen. He will give your champions a challenge like no other.” He pointed to us all when Valentin came to stand by our sides. “They all will.”

I could see by the Wraith’s expression that he believed Viktor. I could also see that he was impressed by us. Relief settled in my bones. If the Wraiths thought us strong and viable males, in comparison to their own, then we had a chance for our plan to work.

The head Wraith pointed to the van. “Load them in there,” he said to our byki. Zaal’s males did as ordered and placed us in the back of the van. We were all silent as we were plunged into darkness. I knew it was Valentin who sat beside me. The male’s body was pulsing with aggression.

“Calm,” I whispered in Russian.

“Wraiths,” he snarled low and almost unheard.

“Calm,” I repeated just as the van began to move. Valentin took long, deep breaths.

The tension thickened the farther we drove. Until we came to a stop. In seconds the back doors were opened and our byki reached for our roped necks. When we got out of the van, I took in what was before us. We were standing in the center of a large compound, enclosed by high, dark fences. There was barbed wire covering the tops. Two large watchtowers were in sight, but I couldn’t see the others; the wall stretched too far. Each tower was manned by at least three guards.

When the other cars stopped beside us, I saw Zaal and Valentin scanning the perimeter. They were recording all this for future use. But other than the walls and the towers, there was nothing. Nothing but a steep set of steps descending into the earth. No buildings, no life, just barren land and these stairs.

The head Wraith jumped from a blacked-out jeep, followed by several of his males. He indicated for us to follow and began walking down the steps. Our byki guided us down, Viktor walking out in front.

The steps were many, then at last we came to a large set of steel doors. The head Wraith banged on the metal. The heavy doors creaked open, revealing a dank, wide tunnel beyond.

After we entered the tunnel, the doors slammed behind us. The Wraiths’ heavy boots echoed off the stone floor. We walked for what felt like miles, until we arrived at another large set of doors. Beyond these doors were more steps, followed by many hallways. The head Wraith paused just before leading us down the left tunnel. “You have been privileged, Viktor,” he said proudly. “Master wants to see you and your fighters.” His gaze then fixed on Valentin, and ice filled my muscles. “He wants to meet the monster that slayed his sister.”

Valentin tensed beside me. But Viktor played into the role. “I’d be honored,” he replied, and the head Wraith smiled.

“Come,” the head Wraith ordered. We followed him down the narrow hallway. With every step, my mind raced with what we would do if Master wanted to punish Valentin. I prayed that Valentin wouldn’t react first when coming eye to eye with the male that had called his sister back to his pit. The male that had become Master to his sister. The male that was using her for sex.

The hallways were winding and long, but eventually we entered a large hall, the size of it surprising. A table stood at the end of the space, and around it were three males. I immediately sought out Arziani. He carried himself like many of the crime bosses in New York did—arrogantly, like he was the most powerful male in the world. I supposed here, in this underground town, he was.

His expensive shoes tapped on the floor as he approached us, his two guards following closely behind. I stood between Zaal and Valentin. I almost choked on the hate pulsing from their bodies.

Master stopped before us, and I got a good look at his face. I hadn’t been sure what to expect, but he was nothing special. It was the glint he had in his eyes that betrayed the true nature of his black soul. The glint that showed his ruthlessness was underneath, the male that took enjoyment from others’ pain.

Arziani’s eyebrows rose as he roved his excited gaze over us all. His lip hooked into the briefest smile when he saw Zaal. He stepped closer to Zaal and lifted his hand to trace his tattoo—221.

Zaal’s teeth ground together as Master’s fingers dropped down to his torso. When he looked back into Zaal’s eyes, he said, “One of the Kostava twins. We had long imagined you dead.”

Arziani looked to Viktor. “The Volkovs gave him to you?”

Viktor nodded. “Yes, Master. They wanted to use him to kill for them, but he was unsalvageable. Too far gone in the head.”

Arziani stared back at Zaal. “He appears docile enough now.”

“It is the drugs, Master. We bought the Type A from you. We use it to keep him obedient.”

Arziani nodded his head, then looked to me. “And him?”

“Our gulag’s ultimate champion. A Russian. Known as Raze. The previous Alaskan champion. We bought him after he was found by a smaller Georgian organization that knew of our gulag in New York.”

“Is he good?”

“Unrivaled.”

Arziani smiled and said, “Good. My champion is a Russian, too. Taken as a child from an orphanage and raised to be exactly the kind of killer I dreamed about.” His face then flashed with annoyance. “Though he has lost my favor of late.” He stepped back, eyes bright. “This 818 seems he could perhaps give him a challenge. I will look forward to seeing it.”

Master then moved to Valentin and his lost his humor. Valentin stared straight ahead, frozen to the spot. Master lifted his hand and brushed his fingertip over the scar on Valentin’s neck, but he didn’t stop there. He moved to his scarred face and traced the lashes that Valentin’s Mistress had meted out for his disobedience, permanently disfiguring his face.

Master stepped back and regarded Valentin coldly. “So this is the mutant that slaughtered my sister?” Silence. The air pulsed with electricity as we waited for what would come next.

I could feel our byki loosening their holds on our ropes. They expected a fight. So did I.

But when Arziani’s lips spread into a wide grin and a booming laugh came from his mouth, that expectation fell away. Arziani slapped Valentin on the shoulder. “That woman was the bane of my life. You did me a favor by killing her.” He looked to Zaal. “And her asshole of a lover. The one you killed. You did me a favor. Jakhua had thought himself higher than his station. I had already issued his death warrant. You just beat me to it.”