by Zara Starr
In horror, Tanya watched as the presenter walked into the arena, right up to Gage, took his hand and lifted it in the air. He was presented as the winner of the tournament. He looked around, a look of triumph on his face.
He was bleeding too. But not a lot. Mal had somehow failed to do a lot of damage, despite his initial aggressive attack. How was that possible? Tanya had seen him fight before.
He should have done better than that. Mal should have won.
As Tanya watched, two guards ran out of the side gate to the arena and grabbed Mal by his feet. They started dragging him out of the arena, struggling with his dead weight. The blood around his head smeared in a stripe behind him, mingling with the dirt and leaving a muddy, bloody trail behind.
All the while, Tanya stood there watching, trying to find any signs of life on his face. But she was too far to see any micro-expressions, too far to see the rise and fall of his chest, to see if he was breathing.
Too damn far to run to him, to throw herself across his body, to demand that they leave him alone. She wanted to get to him with all her might.
In a moment of weakness, Tanya ran toward the door where the pod always delivered her. The guard eyed her dubiously.
“Let me out!” she shouted. Panic, fear, sorrow. It had taken over and she felt like she was just along for the ride. Her body was acting of its own accord.
“Get back to the center of the stage!” the guard shouted.
“Let me go! I am a human being. You cannot do this to me! I have rights!” She tried to get past the guard, trying to force her way to the door. Even though she knew that this mantis-like monster was stronger than her, even though she knew that there was no way she could escape and get to Mal, even if she did manage to get off the stage.
She pushed and nearly broke free, slipping through the guard’s fingers.
The guard slapped her in the face with a thin, hard claw. The blow was enough to snap her out of it, but not enough to knock her out, and she blinked at the creature, stunned. Her cheek stung where the creature had slapped her, she was sure there would be a mark.
“You’re a monster!” she shouted. “And you’ll pay for this. You just made a mark on the grand prize.”
The guard’s eyes widened and even though he had no expression, she could tell that he was scared. Because she was right. He had acted on impulse, just as she had. She had nearly gotten away, and it was his job to watch her, to keep her there. He hadn’t thought, and neither had she.
But he would be punished more severely. That was the only consolation there was to be had concerning the whole situation. Because nothing else could be done.
Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to get to Mal, and thinking straight again, Tanya slowly walked back to the barrier where she watched what was happening in the arena.
They were in the middle of the arena, and Tanya watched as the presenter pranced around, getting the crowd worked up as Gage stood there with some kind of medal around his neck and a smug look on his face.
Tanya didn’t take anything in. Instead, her thoughts wandered to Mal. Was she ever going to see him again? Was he still alive?
She wished that there was a way of finding out. At some point, surely, they would have to take her down to the arena so that she could be offered to the winner as the grand prize. When that happened, maybe she would be taken past Mal and there would be a chance for her to see if he was still alive. If nothing else.
But oh, how she wished she could hold him. How she wished she could go back to that day in his room, where they had been together, so connected she had forgotten where her body ended and his began.
It was ironic that the place she wanted to go back to was already a place in captivity. But she would rather be in captivity with Mal than be a slave without him. Without knowing if he was alive at all.
What if he had died? It was dreadful to imagine. He was such a kind, gentle person. He had been a captive his whole life, never in control of his fate, never allowed to choose a future for himself. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.
At least, despite being the grand prize in an alien tournament now, Tanya had had a taste of freedom, before. She wouldn’t have that ever again, but she knew what it was she’d had. She had something she could look back to, reminisce about. She had something she could dream about.
And miss. And resent losing. In that sense, Mal had been lucky. Was lucky, she corrected herself. He wasn’t dead. He was lucky that he didn’t know what he was missing. Because that would only have made his life that much worse for him.
Tanya slowly packed away her emotions. The sorrow for his loss, the grief for his possible death. The fear for what was to come, the dread of the unknown that lay before her. A whole life of captivity that stretched out ahead. She steeled herself. If this was what she had to endure, then she would do it with the same courage Mal had. That, at least, was something she could do. In everything she did, she could at least remain who she was.
Although, being in captivity, being a slave, wasn’t who she wanted to be at all.
But what choice did she have?
For a moment, she wanted to cry again. But she pushed it away and held herself strong. Any moment now, her life was going to change forever. Damned if she was going to face it like a coward.
Mal never did.
Chapter Seventeen
Mal
Mal’s head was throbbing. It felt like he had a concussion or something. The edges of his vision blurred. When he looked around, it felt like everything was shrouded in darkness.
He blinked his eyes, trying to focus. He lay on a bench in the shower room, that much he could figure out. He lay at a strange angle, the spikes in his back stopped him from lying flat. He was alone.
He groaned, trying to get up, but his whole body ached. It felt as though he had received a terrible beating. Which was strange, he didn’t usually feel pain so acutely. Not unless it was serious.
Which meant it was so serious he had nearly died. But the feeling in his body meant that he had lost.
Which he had. Right? He had lost the fight? It had worked! He wasn’t the winner of the tournament. Gage had taken the win. Tanya wasn’t going to go to his Master.
Mal lowered his head back to the bench and closed his eyes. He had never been able to do anything in his life, he had never had free will. But this? This was something he had chosen. Something no one had told him to do. And it was exhilarating.
Yeah, so his entire body was aching like a bitch. His head was so sore he thought it was going to split in two. He was a little worried about his vision and when he opened and closed his mouth, all he tasted was blood. He checked his teeth, making sure that they weren’t loose.
But even if they were, all these wounds could heal. He could get better again. Sure, it would take a while to get back on his feet, especially after he had been hit in the head so hard. It was something he had to be mindful of.
But at least Tanya would be safe. And he was alive, that was something too. He had half expected Gage to kill him once he had fallen to the ground. Mal didn’t remember anything else after that. But here he was, on the bench in the shower room, alive.
He sat up slowly, trying to orientate himself. The world spun slowly and he felt like he might fall off the bench. But he needed to be upright, he needed to start the process of healing. His body would bounce back – the wounds would heal up and his blood would restore itself. The concussion would take longer – it was one of the few weaknesses that his race had. But that was okay.
Mal sat hunched on the bench, gripping the edges with his hands. He was fascinated by the pattern of bright red on the white tiles. It was almost like blossoms on the floor, splatters that made beautiful shapes.
It wasn’t long before he realized that it was his own blood he was looking at. There were marks from the door, some of them smudged as if he had been dragged in. Probably, since he hadn’t been conscious enough to walk in and he was far too big and heavy to be carried.
Slowly, Mal’s body started to fix itself. He could feel the way his skin knit together in the few places he had wounds, his teeth setting themselves solidly in his gums again. He could feel his bones getting stronger.
Slowly, the headache faded. Not a lot, that would take longer. But a bit. Enough for his vision to clear up.
And for Mal to realize that he wasn’t completely alone.
Shit.
His heart suddenly thundered in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his system, getting him ready to fight again. He wasn’t sure who was there or why, but he didn’t feel safe.
When his eyes fell on Slinin, he relaxed a little. It was his Master. He was safe.
Or, rather, he wasn’t in mortal danger. But he wasn’t safe, not yet. His Master looked furious.
“You lost,” Slinin sneered at him.
Mal jumped to his feet and nearly lost his balance with the quick motion that his head wasn’t ready for yet. It was out of respect. He had to grovel to his Master now.
“I am so sorry,” he said. “Please accept my sincere apologies.”
“You’re sorry!?” Slinin cried out. “Do you have any idea how much money I lost in this fight? What my reputation will suffer?”
Mal knew that this was a lot bigger to the Saithin Masters than just winning or losing a fight. They bet thousands on their gladiators, they were followed in some of the sports shows, and everyone knew their names. Cards were made for the kids to trade out – it was a hell of a parade.
“If you could find it in your heart to forgive me—” Mal started, his head bowed. He just had to get back in Slinin’s good books and then it would be fine again. He had learned over the past couple of weeks that his new Master had a bad temper, but had also had a great bounce-back rate and rarely stayed angry for long.
“Find it in my heart,” Slinin repeated with a bitter laugh. “I can do a hell of a lot better than that. I found it in my best interest to get rid of you.”
“What?” Mal asked, looking up at his Master.
“I have no use for an almost-winner. You were a strong fighter until the very end and I thought it was a good investment, taking you on. It doesn’t matter how well you do in the preliminary rounds. If you don’t win the tournament, you’re still a loser. And that won’t do. I don’t own fighters who lose.”
Slinin had gotten over his aggressive shouting, his voice was measured again, his words factual. When he had started shouting, Mal had been worried that his Master knew that he had thrown the fight. He had tried his best to make it look natural. He had presented Gage with a weakness, and like any good warrior, Gage had taken the opportunity.
It had only taken a little bit of acting to let his opponent think he was winning.
That last blow, the one that had knocked him out, had been a surprise. But it had only been because he had thought Gage was going to let him stand up again.
Of course, looking back, that had been the plan all along. Whichever way it had happened, Mal had thrown the fight and he was worried that his Master knew.
At least, he had been. Now, seeing Slinin compose himself again, the anger faded already, he knew that he was safe, his Master didn’t know. He was safe to fight another day, he would not be cast out on the streets, or worse.
That was a relief. Although, thinking about it, maybe being out of the street wasn’t the worst thing. What if that meant freedom? He pushed the thought away as quickly as he had thought about it. He wasn’t going to tempt himself with things he knew he would never have.
Dreaming of freedom was just stupidity. He would make himself want something he would never get, resentment would grow, and he would become bitter in his captivity. It wouldn’t change anything, just the way he approached it.
He looked at Slinin again, who stood with his hands behind his back, a picture of composure now.
“Your failure was disappointing. It showed me what I have. I have sold you back to Esimin, your previous Master. He seemed happy to take you back at half the price I bought you for. That is all you’re worth.”
Mal shook his head. He had been sold again? He struggled to wrap his mind around it, his thoughts still slow and bumpy. It wouldn’t be long before that would be better too. But right now, processing was hard.
It didn’t matter that he had been sold again though. His old Master wasn’t the worst person to belong to. It wasn’t like he had a reputation that would be ruined by this – he just had to win when he fought again and then his wins would pick up.
He had managed to do what he had set out to do – Tanya was safe. That was all that mattered.
“I wish I could say you served me well, Mal,” Slinin said, walking toward the door. “But after today, that would be a lie.” He continued toward the door, only to turn back at the last minute.
“Oh,” he added as if only thinking about it now. “Don’t worry yourself too much about losing that grand prize for me.”
Mal frowned. He had a bad feeling in his gut.
“I offered the officials a generous sum of money. It’s incredible what you can achieve if the price is right. It doesn’t matter that the grand prize went to another gladiator. The human female belongs to me now.”
Mal shook his head, disbelieving. “That’s not how it works,” he said. “There are rules…”
His Master – ex-Master – laughed and it was a scratchy sound, a sound Mal realized he hadn’t heard before. He had never heard his Master laugh, and he was glad for it now.
“I know you won’t understand this because you are just a slave,” Slinin said. “But when you are a free man and you have more than enough money to buy a small planet, you can do anything. People are willing to bend or break every rule that exists if you give them enough of it. Everyone in this galaxy and the next is fickle. But I know how to play this game. And I always get what I want.”
He left the shower area and Mal stayed behind, still sitting on the bench, swinging his mouth open and closed. He struggled to process what had just happened.
A moment ago, he had felt secure. He had been sure that his plan had worked. Now, he realized everything had blown up in his face. Because even though he had thrown the fight, even though he hadn’t won, Slinin had still ended up with Tanya.
He looked at the blood on the floor again and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now.
Tanya belonged to Slinin.
Chapter Eighteen
Tanya
Tanya stood alone on the stage, staring down at the arena. She felt like she was in a daze. She had no idea what was going on, but she knew that whatever it was, it was all wrong.
She didn’t care about the gladiator who had won. She didn’t care about anything that would happen from here on out, she was just worried about Mal. What if he had died? What if he had been alive when he had been dragged from the arena, but his injuries were so bad that he had died from them. And no one cared? Because he wasn’t the winner?
She was under no illusion that they mattered at all. If one was gone, it was just replaced with the next. No one cared about who they were as individuals. They wouldn’t care about Mal either. Especially now that he hadn’t won.
Tanya had a feeling that it was the reason why he had been treated the way he had – because he had kept winning. When you won as a gladiator, you were worth something. When you lost and survived it, well, they had no use for you.
Tanya didn’t know how it worked here, but it made logical sense. Especially when she had seen how they had dragged Mal out of the arena – it wasn’t like they cared whether he was alive or not. They hadn’t even checked.
“You!” the guard called.
Tanya turned to look at him. Her cheek was still throbbing and she was furious that he had dared to lay a hand on her. Even though she should have known that it would happen. After all, she had a bit of a reputation when it came to trying to escape. She still didn’t know what the official-looking guard had seen on her bio-enhancer about what she had done
while she had been missing, but he had seemed furious.
“What?” Tanya asked without moving closer.
The guard seemed not to know what to do when she wouldn’t move. Maybe they weren’t used to people rebelling. Maybe if she could get a lot of people to rebel against him, they would be able to overthrow everyone. Because the guards were too scared to touch the prizes – it would mean that the warriors’ winnings would be affected.
“Come,” the guard finally said.
Tanya moved toward the door he was gesturing toward. After all, she couldn’t stage a rebellion by herself. She needed the others, at the very least. But she doubted they would want to stand up and fight.
Besides, she had a feeling she wasn’t thinking clearly. She was in shock. She was emotionally numb. It was because of what had happened to Mal. She knew that.
When the doors slid open and she stepped into the pod, she wasn’t alone. A couple of the other females were in it, including Amelia. They all looked a little bored, but Amelia looked scared. Tanya went to stand by her.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
Amelia opened her mouth to speak, but the guards snapped for them to be quiet.
Amelia glanced at Tanya, her eyes rolling in their sockets, her lips parted and her breathing was way too fast. Something was up.
The pod didn’t go back to the prize quarters right away. First, it dropped most of the females off at the pool so that they could bathe and cleanse themselves.
But Amelia wasn’t allowed to join them. And neither was Tanya.
Were they going to be taken to the gladiator? At least, she figured she was. Since she was the grand prize. But where were they taking Amelia? And why did she look so terrified? Tanya wanted to ask her again, but she hadn’t even thought about speaking before the guard snapped a claw in her direction.
