Hunting Purity (The Hunting Series Book 2)

by Tracy Lauren

  I was scared when I ran from him, afraid that maybe I didn’t know him after all. If he could kill the Clymerrick so viciously, what would stop him from hurting me if he became upset? But when we arrived here at the colony and I realized he had taken me exactly where I asked to be, I felt safe again and hoped that we could talk. But he left without even saying goodbye and now I’m here, drowning in my emotions.

  Mostly I’m sad, but mixed in with all that sadness is anger. Anger that he could so easily discuss the horrors of his world with me, as if they held no meaning. He had to watch his mother fight for her life and die for the entertainment of others, for Christ’s sake. And still, he could sit there, describing all this and be blind and deaf to the savagery of it all.

  I feel bad for Hero… I’m sorry that was his life. But I’m more sorry he didn’t choose me over it. I swipe a tear from my cheek and hang my head.

  “Come on, Rylan, let’s get her home,” I hear Faith tell Rylan as my tears begin to flow.

  Chapter 33

  He’Rokvska Naa

  The arena is thundering when I disembark from my ship, the roar so loud the ground trembles beneath my feet. I find the noise staggering after spending weeks in the quiet solitude of the forest.

  Having no desire to be swarmed by eager servants, who will surely inform Sarran of my return, I instead enter my house through the stables beneath the arena. It is a cold and dark place, with empty bunks lining the walls, waiting to be filled. The ground is packed dirt and loose straw and blood flows through the drains like rain water as I take the stairs up to the main level of the house. The battle going on in the arena must be a brutal one. It makes me think of all the ways this moment might be different if I were returning with Purity in tow.

  I would have taken her in through the front doors so that I might show her off like a trophy. I’d have had our servants wait on their new mistress and I would call on Sarran myself, so that I could introduce him to my mate.

  Then we would have gone to our viewing box facing the arena and I would have happily shown Purity whose bodies all this blood came spilling from. I rub my neck, ruefully. If what we had between us wasn’t already dead, surely that would have done it.

  How could I have ever thought to bring her back here? I must have been mad. Purity was the antithesis of all I have ever known. Everything here is harsh and brutal while Purity…she was delicate and soft in everything she ever did and said. There was only love and kindness within her and I imagine that was the type of world she had been raised in. Before I killed the Clymerrick in front of her, I doubt she had ever seen death.

  I wonder what she must think of me.

  “Master He’Rokvska Naa! Welcome home!” a voice calls as I try to remember which room I had claimed as my own. Despite my efforts at a stealthy entrance, someone must have seen my ship, because when I look over the staircase railings the servants are dashing about the main level of my house, busy with jobs I care nothing about. I groan, having every intention of ignoring whatever pomp and circumstance they wish to perform.

  A young servant comes rushing to my side, taking two steps at a time just so he can catch me on the steps. “I have just spoken with Master Sarran, he is on his way now—”

  “Did I ask you to call upon Master Sarran?” I roar into the young servant’s face. My voice echoes off the tall ceilings and all the bustling footsteps below come to an abrupt halt. The young male stops in his tracks, fearful and fidgeting.

  “Shall…shall I send a comm and let him know you aren’t ready to receive company?”

  A slow clicking warning escapes my throat and the servant has the good sense to run, tripping down the stairs as he makes his hasty escape. I storm into the room at the top of the stairs and slam the door… It isn’t my room. I sigh heavily and lean against the wooden barrier. Wrong room or not, I’m not willing to go back out there and face a house full of strangers who are eager to dote on their new master. Instead, I draw the curtains and throw myself face down on the bed. Perhaps I will just sleep forever.

  Chapter 34

  He’Rokvska Naa

  The next time I open my eyes it’s to the sound of curtains being ripped open. I jerk upwards and squint into the light, but I know who is there… It is Sarran, my only friend.

  “Do you know how long it took me to find you?” he asks. “I must have looked in two dozen rooms before I found you in this one. I should have just followed your rancid scent. Why are you not in the master’s suite and why have you not yet bathed?”

  I push myself up on my elbows and rub my eyes.

  “The Hunt—” he begins.

  “I have no desire to discuss it.”

  “Fine,” he says, keeping his voice schooled. “What do you desire?”

  I think on that question quietly for a moment. I need my mate, but she does not want me nor does she wish to share this life. What’s left? “I want my work to begin. I have to be busy.”

  “When do you plan on telling me what happened with Kosi’s little game?”

  “Perhaps never.”

  He nods and assesses me with the eyes of a seasoned gladiator. “Clean yourself and I’ll accompany you to the docks. I have retained a few of my favorite merchants so that you might have your pick of the very best fighters. I am glad you are home, He’Rokvska Naa.”

  Silently, I climb out of bed and make my way to the bathing chamber. Sarran waits while I ready myself, and when I return a short time later, the look he gives me is reprimanding.

  “You should wear your master’s robes. Everyone will think you’re a slave. A low one at that,” Sarran complains.

  “Let fools think what they want,” I tell him. “You have been a master too long if you truly give a damn what I wear.”

  “It is business, my friend. Everything is business. Never mind. Let them think you’re eccentric.”

  Together we step out onto the streets of Braga Faro Sintra and point ourselves toward the only place more filthy and unseemly than the gates of the arena…the slave docks. I watch as commoners hurry along the streets, they cut their eyes at Sarran and me often, knowing exactly who we are—master’s robes or not. Parents point us out to their children and some of the braver ones run alongside us.

  Sarran is a man of the people and he passes out cred chips as we walk. Soon he has a small crowd around him, holding their palms out for a few free chips. It is generous of him and one of the reasons I have always admired my master. But today I cannot stop myself from seeing the ugliness of the world. I see it in the streets and I see it when I look upon the crowd. I can’t help but wonder if this place is a poison to them…if it’s a poison to us all. I stare at the villagers’ dirty hands and tired faces, knowing that instead of a hearty meal they will use those free chips to place their next bets. But it will get them nowhere. So rarely does one of low standing claw their way out of the dregs.

  I look up at the arena, towering high above us all and casting its dark shadow over the streets. There is only one way to come up on this world…and it is on the backs of others. Even then, no one steps away unaffected. From master to slave and everything in between, there are none who are immune to this place.

  I avert my gaze while waiting on Sarran, wondering if his generosity does more harm than good and staring up at the clouded red sky. I think I will miss how crisp and clear the air was on Kosi’s planet and I lament not spending more time staring up at the stars with my Purity… I thought we had the rest of our lives, but instead I am here alone in this suffocating place.

  I’m lost in my morose thoughts when a trio of street whores decide it would be wise to grope at my arm. The feel of another female’s touch is repulsive and I wrench myself from their grasps. The warning bark I issue is enough to throw them back on their asses and the crowd gasps in surprise. All eyes are on me while the whores angrily complain. Sarran hurries over to help them up and I get my second reprimanding look for the day.

  “I will be at the docks,” I growl, stalking away
and feeling remorseful. I should not be so cross. Sarran takes his connection to the people seriously and with the ugly lives they lead, I have no business treating them poorly. It is a low act indeed to take my anger out on whoever happens to cross my path. It is not my way. But, I am not myself anymore and I fear that without Purity, I never will be again.

  As always, there are guards at the slave docks. They stand at the gates, guns heavy in their arms, and they nod to me as I enter. Massive ships hover nearby, further darkening the sky. Shuttles spill from them, ushering in shipments of soon-to-be gladiators. When they land, the merchants divvy them up and pack them tightly into viewing pens.

  The accommodations in the pens are horrendous and not for the faint of heart. Piss and shit muck up the corners of the squared cells and scuffling fights frequently break out behind the bars. The best and strongest warriors are noticed and purchased quickly, while the weak and unskilled often remain for some time.

  A line of newly delivered prisoners shuffle past me in chains. Most of them keep their heads down, afraid to look at me. I stride closer to the pens and assess the group inside. A few look promising, the others all look like fodder.

  “I have some that I’ve set aside and tagged for you,” Sarran tells me as he approaches. I don’t answer. A few short weeks ago, this moment was all I could think of. Now, the idea of filling my stables holds no appeal and the ugliness and stench of this world crawls like vermin under my skin. I can’t help but compare my home to the unclaimed beauty of Kosi’s world. I can’t help but look at the slaves, locked in their cages, and think of Purity. Had the Ihasa gotten her she’d be dead right now. I wonder absently who will get the slaves that linger in the back of the pens…and what they will do to them once they have them?

  My quiet contemplation is interrupted by a male being torn from one of the transport shuttles. I hear the zap of electric prods, yet still he roars and bares his fangs, fighting tooth and claw to rid himself of the chain wrapped tightly around his neck.

  If he wants off this world, he is going about it the wrong way. Already I see other buyers inching toward him.

  “I would not buy that one, He’Rokvska Naa,” Sarran tells me quietly.

  “Why’s that?” I ask, eyes still trained on the struggling male.

  “See the ink printed across his neck? That means he is a mated male.”

  I cast a glance at Sarran.

  “There is nothing to be done with mated males. They will fight ferociously in the arena, but they will also bring the same ferocity into your house and believe me, that is not something you want. They refuse to abide by rules and they cannot offer their loyalty, for it already belongs to another.”

  “Ayo!” I signal one of the merchants. A stout male with graying hair and folds of loose flesh hanging from his face approaches. “I will take that one and whatever no one wants in the pens.”

  “Master—?” the merchant begins, likely wondering if he misheard me.

  “The slaves that no one wants, I will take them. All of them,” I clarify.

  I hear Sarran click in annoyance, but he says nothing to stop me.

  “Have them delivered to the ninth house,” I order, before I turn and stride over to the male struggling to free himself from his new life of slavery. He lunges for me and those who hold his chains jerk and lurch against his powerful movements. Swiftly, I maneuver past the electric prods holding him in place and land a hit to his temple. The sizeable male falls limp to the ground.

  “Take the others to my stables. This one I want on my private dock,” I call to the merchant. I don’t bother to wait for a response. Instead, I head back to my house, taking note of the fact that Sarran does not follow. It does not matter to me… I do not need anyone.

  Chapter 35

  He’Rokvska Naa

  The slave is still unconscious when the dock guards drop him on the ground before my ship. It takes some time for him to rouse and I sit there, waiting quietly, contemplating the gardens surrounding my house. How can anything grow here?

  The sound of chains clinking together eventually alerts me to the fact that my newest slave is coming to. He doesn’t speak a word when he sees me, but crouches low, his body prepared to strike.

  “They say that mark on your neck means you’re mated?” I question.

  He snarls in response.

  “Where is your mate now?” I press.

  That makes him leap at me. I swipe my arm out, landing a blow to his chest and knocking the wind out of him.

  “You will not touch my family!” he bellows at me.

  I scrub my hand over my eyes. “I do not want your family. Nor do I want you. I am asking if you know where they are so that you may return to them,” I explain, gesturing at the ship. I am too tired and too disinterested in this endeavor to say more.

  For the first time the alien looks around, realizing that there are no guards, no electric prods, only me.

  “This is a trick,” he accuses.

  “I have much too little interest in you for it to be one.”

  “Of course I know where my family is!” he hisses at me.

  “Then go to them and get out of my sight before I change my mind,” I say, leaving him alone with my ship. I’m not even halfway to my stables before I hear the engines roar to life. I try not to think twice about letting him go, but my mind travels to his family. Somewhere, they are out there, missing him.

  Purity is on the Iredescan colony right now, building her new life. Hopelessly, I wonder if she misses me too.

  When I step into the stables my new gladiator slaves hobble and mill about. They are a pathetic bunch.

  “ATTENTION!” I bellow. My voice booms off the stone walls, and judging by the looks on the faces of my trainees, many of them are pissing themselves. I scrutinize the group I plan on turning into gladiators.

  If I hope for any of them to survive, I’m going to have my work cut out for me.

  Weeks pass

  “Don’t you think they are ready now, He’Rokvska Naa?” Sarran presses again. The sound of metal clashing in the empty arena echoes around us.

  I shrug noncommittally, looking out at my men. They are already so very different from their first days under my tutelage. They are clean now and have put muscle onto their once thin frames.

  “Tell me, when can I book a fight for you? Everyone in the damned galaxy is talking about these piss poor slaves you bought.”

  “Do they look piss poor to you now?” I grit out.

  “Exactly my point, He’Rokvska Naa! There isn’t a single person who hasn’t heard of your underdogs and everyone wants to place a damn bet on them! You’re going to make more creds on your first fight than I did in my entire first year as a master. What are you waiting for?” Sarran hisses. At my silence he takes a deep breath, centering himself before he continues. When he speaks again, he has regained some of his usually calm demeanor. “You are a smart male, He’Rokvska Naa. I am honored to call you my friend,” he tells me.

  “Thank you, Sarran, the honor is mine.”

  “But your men are ready for a fight,” he points out.

  “Honestly, Sarran, I do not care. Book a fight if you wish. All I care about is training.”

  “You have been putting too much of yourself into training, He’Rokvska Naa. Isn’t it time for you to rest?”

  “I do not like to be idle,” I tell him, picking up a long sword and balancing it in my hand.

  “You work yourself like a slave.”

  I grunt.

  “Gods, what do I have to do to get you to talk to me?” Sarran grits out, finally snapping. I turn to look him in the eyes, giving him my full attention. I have never seen my friend in such a state of discomposure.

  “You have been a ghost ever since you returned from that cursed hunt. I feel like I do not even know you anymore!” he tells me.

  “I told you once already, I will not discuss it,” I say stubbornly.

  “I refuse to accept that.”

&nbs
p; “Then it is your problem, not mine,” I counter, turning away from him and heading for the stairs.

  Sarran refuses to let up and I cannot take this incessant worrying. I’m on the edge, barely hanging on. Every day that goes by, the pain within me only grows worse. Braga Faro Sintra used to be my home, but ever since I returned it is like a veil has been lifted from my eyes. It is as if Purity peeled back some unseen curtain and now, I cannot help but view this place with clarity. Everything around me is toxic. Even the air here is so polluted at times I feel I can hardly breathe. This is one of those times and I set myself in the direction of my master’s suite.

  “I will not let this go on another day!” Sarran shouts, following close on my heels.

  “Then kill me now,” I groan quietly, raking my hand across the back of my neck and not bothering to slow my pace.

  “Master He’Rokvska Naa,” my young male house servant calls to me when he sees me come in through the arena entrance. “The dock merchants have been trying to contact you on your personal comm.”

  “I do not carry one,” I tell the servant.

  “It seems the sale of less desirable merchandise has gone up quite a bit since you were last at the docks and they wanted to send over a gift to show their gratitude.”

  “Tell them it is not necessary.” I try to wave him away, but his steps falter and his face shows signs of worry.

  “My apologies, master, they already sent the gift. It is in your suite now.”

  I growl but bite back all else. I have no desire to take my sour mood out on the young servant. As a matter of fact, I have no desire to do anything besides train my gladiators and sleep.

  “Thank you, Thylorn,” Sarran puts in. “That will be all.”

  Thylorn… I didn’t even know his name, but I can read the look in his eye. It tells me he’s grateful Sarran intervened. No one wants to deal with me. I don’t want to deal with me. Thylorn hurries off in another direction, anxious to get away and I resume my hurried stride while Sarran continues to pursue me to my suite.