“He knows me,” she said, breathless, searching Rune’s face for injury. His jaw was bruised, and the remnants of a black eye was fading from one of his eyes. Cuts marred his lips and eyebrows, as if he’d been struck repeatedly by a bare fist. “He knows I’ll take my own life before taking yours.” “Then he doesn’t know me at all,” Rune growled, “because I’ll dismantle this arena stone by stone before I watch you die.”
