Instead, she just sprawled there, trying not to think about how this was where Van slept. The strange man she just met hours ago. The very man she was supposed to be bending to her will.

Trying not to think about him meant that was all she could think about, and it was just so odd her brain couldn’t let go of it. Finally, she gave in, hoping her brain would get tired and shut down.

Van wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined he’d be, but he wasn’t the nicest person she’d ever met either. She wondered if part of his temper wasn’t just because he’d been dealt such a blow. She understood what it was like to be kept from the life you wanted. And she imagined how much more it must hurt to be kept from that life when you’d been allowed to experience it.

More than that, Van was kind of the rock star of the TFL, according to his file. He’d been undefeated until this last match, and the loss hadn’t been by knockout or points or however fights were decided, but because he’d been so badly injured, there was no other option than to call the match.

An injury she’d caused.

She closed her eyes, but the pit in her stomach remained. She hated what her father had made her do almost as much as she hated her inability to ignore his commands. But it was even worse that someone else had been hurt because of what she’d been forced into doing.

Van might be a grump, but he was an innocent grump. He didn’t deserve to have his life taken away from him.

She didn’t blame him for not wanting to fight again.

Suddenly, she sat upright. What if he couldn’t fight again? Was his injury that bad? She knew from his file that he’d been bitten by the other fighter, a manticore, a very deadly mytho, which was how her father referred to that class of supernaturals. She’d also read that manticore venom was incredibly strong and the effects would stay in the victim’s bloodstream for up to a month.

Van was only two weeks out from the fight. Maybe the venom was making him cranky? That was definitely a possibility.

She felt for the guy. His career was over—as far as he was concerned. He was probably in constant pain, he’d lost his undefeated status, and the scars from that bite would stay with him the rest of his life, an ever-present reminder of the day his life had taken a dramatic downturn. For a moment, she thought about marching downstairs and confessing everything.

For the first time since she’d arrived, she smiled. That would be so nice.

But then she sighed and leaned forward, putting her face into her hands. Her father would never give her a coin then. He’d force her to bend Van to her will, and he’d end up back in the ring either way. Not to mention she couldn’t even imagine how he’d respond to the truth about why she was here.

If he’d been cranky before, he’d go ballistic hearing that. Considering his general mood, it was kind of amazing he’d even let her into his house. Especially since she no longer thought he had an ulterior motive due to recognizing her.

She flopped back down to stare at the ceiling some more. It was nice he had Grom. He was a good dog, and he’d been so well behaved when she’d taken him outside. He’d really changed her mind about dogs. Especially when she’d discovered he liked his ears rubbed. The look on his face, eyes closed, mouth partially open, could only be described as euphoric. It was sweet and silly, and when she’d stopped, Grom had pushed his big head into her hand as if asking for more. He’d won her over big-time.

Maybe when she had her own life, she’d get a dog too. Just a small one, though. The companionship would be nice. So would the unconditional love.

She sighed again. Getting that life meant forcing Van into the ring one more time. How on earth was she going to do that without using her powers?

Maybe things would be different tomorrow. Maybe they’d have some kind of breakthrough in pretend therapy and he’d suddenly want to fight again.

She snorted softly. And maybe her father would just give her a coin like he should have done years ago.

The image of the coin floated elusively in her mind, the shiny gold mesmerizing her with the promise it held. She clung to that promise. It kept her going. Because without it, she’d be just as miserable as Van.

No, one day she’d have a life, with her own apartment and friendly neighbors and a dog and…

She opened her eyes and saw daylight. She’d actually fallen asleep. But the light was strong, stronger than it ought to be for first thing in the morning.

She checked her phone. It wasn’t first thing in the morning, it was a quarter after nine. Swamp water! She should have been up and moving by eight, at least. She hopped out of bed, grabbed some clothes, and ran to the shower.

Seven minutes later, she was out, had some makeup on, and was dressed for the day. Her hair was damp, but that couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t afford to take any more time getting ready, or Van would think the League had sent him a slacker of a therapist.

She hit the steps, and soft voices met her ears. Van’s and someone else’s. A woman. Pandora?

Monalisa jogged the rest of the way down to the living room.

Van and an older woman were in the kitchen. He was seated at the breakfast bar, his back to Monalisa, and the older woman leaned against the center island.

Van turned as Monalisa walked toward them. “Morning.”

“Morning. Sorry I slept so long, I—”

He raised his hand. “It is not a problem. Time change, yes? Also, unfamiliar bed. Understandable.”

Wow. That was unexpected. She nodded. “Yes, it was a combination of those things.”