Unexpected Prize

by Stone, Layla

  He was going to like it. Even if it tasted horrible.

  Cara led him to the table and pointed at the seat. She picked up a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with…stew?

  She filled another bowl and brought both to the table. “I noticed you don’t have spoons, so I assumed you might eat without them.”

  “What is a spoon?”

  “It looks like that scooper, but smaller.”

  Oh. He picked up the bowl and tipped it to his mouth, letting the warm flavors burst over his tongue. It wasn’t very good, but he was hungry, and he wasn’t going to say a word.

  Jarr-o didn’t wait for her to eat, he finished off his bowl and then got another. And another.

  “Is it good, or are you just hungry?”

  Peering at her he said, “I eat a lot.”

  Her smile started at the sides of her mouth before she tipped her head back and laughed. Watching that squeezed at him, too. It also stirred his desire to have her again. He finished off another bowl and noticed that she hadn’t even put a dent in hers.

  “Did you already eat?”

  She tapped the side of the bowl. “It’s gross. I can’t eat any more.”

  He understood that, but… “We will have to find something you can eat. You can’t live off pim-fruit.”

  “The orange-reddish stuff?” she asked.

  “Yes. That’s pim.”

  “It’s good.”

  He knew that. He liked it, too, which was why he bought it. But knowing that she liked it more, he would refrain from eating them. “Are you done?”

  She stood up and picked up his bowl. “Yes, I’ll clean these real quick and finish off the last two bedrooms.”

  Jarr-o wanted to push up behind her while she was working. There were so many ways to take her, but she was cleaning up, and he liked that. Also, he was dirty, and he wanted to be clean for her. He wanted her mouth again, and it would be better for her if he were clean.

  After the shower, he dressed in his normal clothes and found her in the last bedroom. The room had belonged to his parents. She turned to him when he walked in and looked him up and down. “Are you cold?”

  “No. Why? Are you?”

  She pointed to his top. “You’re wearing long sleeves. My kind wear them when they are cold.”

  He shrugged. “I wear them because I want to.” A lie. And at her pointed look, he knew she caught it.

  She didn’t call him on it. Instead, she said, “Okay,” and returned to cleaning. He didn’t have anything else to do, so he walked into the room and helped move the furniture so she could sweep under and behind it.

  Afterwards, she put away the supplies near the kitchen sink—of all odd places—and told him, “I’m going to take a shower.”

  Jarr-o nodded at that and headed to the gathering room to start a fire when he heard her say, “You want to join me?”

  What?

  She had that wicked smile again, and he watched as she pulled her arm back into the tunic and pushed it off. Naked and confident, she dropped the garment on the floor near her small, petite feet. “Or maybe you just want to watch?”

  His feet were moving of their own accord. She giggled and quickly walked in front of him to the washroom, leaving the door open. He followed her in and took satisfaction watching how she cleaned every inch of her skin.

  The steam filled the room, making his vision a little hazy.

  But not enough to block his view, or for him to ignore how she taunted him by moving her fingers to the apex of her sex. Hot and bothered, he moved to her, and she took her fingers from her sex and tipped them back and forth. “Shirt off, big boy. I want to see all of you.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Suit yourself.” She licked her fingers and moved them back down to her cunt.

  He swallowed and moved to her again.

  They did this two more times before he gave in. He pulled off his shirt and then she told him, “Pants, too.”

  Pants went, as well.

  He hated that she saw every inch of him. She not only touched him, kissed him, and brought him to his peak, but she did so slowly, languidly. By the time she’d finished her shower, he was relaxed and accepting of the idea of letting her see everything.

  After she’d dried off, he didn’t let her get dressed as he moved her to his bed and nipped at her lips, neck, and breasts. “This is the Angny way,” he said, right before he used his tusks to graze her lower belly. “We scratch and rub our scents onto the skin here.”

  “Okay,” she said, and he knew it might not be comfortable, but he had to mark her, brand her as his.

  “No cinder oil on this,” he told her.

  “Okay.” But she sounded confused.

  “No one will mistake my mark. If they are ever stupid enough to come that close, they will know I will kill them. But it’s better if you have my scent. Our females take in our scent after being with us for a long time. I hope your body does the same.” He ran his tusk over her belly one last time and he heard her hiss. That’s when he knew he’d gotten deep enough.

  He moved down to her sex and pushed her legs apart. This was not something his kind did, but she’d put her mouth on him, he wanted her to feel the same pleasure. So he moved in slowly and tested with a tentative lick.

  Cara’s sifted her fingers through his thick, black hair, and she gently led him with groans and words. He felt her sex contract, and he listened as she cried out his name. Jarr-o didn’t think winning the top gladiator title had made him feel as victorious as he did right then.

  He moved on top of Cara and saw her look of curiosity. “Are you…I mean, are you ready already?”

  “I want inside you.”

  A slow grin. “Well, then, what’s stopping you?”

  “You are smaller than I am. I want to make sure you agree to this before I start.”

  Rubbing her hands over his shoulders. “I’m very okay with this.” She moved her legs and gave him more room. He used his hand and glided himself to her opening and pushed in.

  “Oh,” was all he could say.

  He watched her face, waiting for her to stop him, but she didn’t. And when he was finally in to the hilt, he buried his face against her neck. “Okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. But you need to go a lot faster than this.”

  That was all the permission he needed. Pulling back out all the way without losing her, he took her fast and almost brutally, holding on to her body as he slammed into her over and over until her insides clamped down on his, surprisingly. He jacked and roared and then shook as he filled her with his hot seed.

  He was still holding her when he settled down and slowly pulled out. She was silent and still, and he worried he’d hurt her. She was so much smaller, and not as strong as Angny females.

  “Are you okay, Cara?”

  “Better than okay. So much better.” She snuggled back into his chest, pulled his hand to her mouth, and nipped him.

  Warmth spread through him. He didn’t know if she realized what she’d just done, but she’d solidified their mating. To his people, she belonged to him. She accepted him, and had agreed to be his breeder for life.

  Chapter Twelve

  Challengers

  Jarr-o pulled Cara back into his front. He ran his tusks against her skin but didn’t scratch it. “We missed the sunrise,” Cara said.

  “I’ll make it up to you.” He promised and then rolled her under him and nipped at her lips, neck, and collar.

  Cara moaned as she ran her hands over his back. Jarr-o was rising to the occasion when he heard pounding on his front door. He stopped and waited to hear if anyone was breaking in. When the banging didn’t continue, he told Cara to stay in bed.

  Pulling on a pair of pants, he walked out of the room and headed straight to the front door. Opening it, he saw three notes. One looked official, and the other two were scraps of paper held down by stones on his property.

 
Challenges.

  He picked them up and shut the door, opening the official one from Bar-ir’s arena first. He scanned the letter. It was not a challenge but an offer for Jarr-o to fight for Bar-ir.

  The second note was from a fighter named Nor-kl, who wanted to fight for Jarr-o’s title. Nor-kl didn’t fight at an arena, so he’d offered a drop-fight. It meant that it could happen anywhere the challenger desired.

  The third was from a fighter named Gus-ng. He called Jarr-o out to fight in an underground arena.

  Jarr-o tossed all three missives into the waste pile and returned to the bedroom. Once there, he heard another knock at his door. Returning, he jerked open the door and lurched back. The Chancellor stood in front of him.

  “Jarr-o.”

  Suspicious, Jarr-o released the door to give himself plenty of room if the male had come for revenge.

  “I had hoped to deliver this to you at home.” He peered behind him, and a smug smile crossed his lips before he righted himself. “As I said, I wanted to personally deliver this.” He held up a small, brown box.

  Jarr-o examined the container but didn’t hold out his hand for it. “What is it?”

  The Chancellor’s watched Jarr-o carefully. “It was dropped off to me but addressed to you. Since you no longer live in the dorms, I took the liberty of opening it.”

  When the Chancellor didn’t continue, Jarr-o said, “And?”

  The Chancellor looked away to say, “It’s about your sister.”

  Jarr-o didn’t move. Didn’t speak until he heard Cara’s footsteps. He felt her by his side when she pressed into him and wrapped her arm around his. “Cara,” he greeted her.

  “Hey, everything okay?” She looked at the Chancellor warily.

  That’s when Jarr-o took the box. Two short, thin tusks were inside. They had been sawed off, and they smelled of his sister.

  Cara’s hand fell from his arm, and she moved closer to the box. She covered her mouth and looked up, questioning him with her eyes.

  “My sister’s tusks,” he answered, feeling a pinch of remorse, but for some reason, it wasn’t as intense as it usually was. His sibling was dead and no longer in pain. He couldn’t keep dwelling on it, especially since he had Cara to protect.

  Cara asked the Chancellor, “Why did you have them?”

  “He said someone dropped the box off. Do you know who?”

  Speaking to Jarr-o, the Chancellor said, “His name is Gus-ng. He runs the underground arena, Parak.”

  Dirty fighters. There was no actual arena. It was just a cave in a mountain. The spectators filed in and circled the warriors, marking the arena boundaries. It was common for several bystanders to die simply because they were too close to the fights.

  Jarr-o didn’t know Gus-ng, but he knew that it was a dangerous place. No respectable fighter went there because they knew it wouldn’t be fair.

  “How do you know him?” Cara asked.

  The Chancellor answered Cara but kept his eyes on Jarr-o. “I only just found out who he is. Not until I spoke to a traitor who worked for me. While I waited for him to recover from our last talk, I decided to drop off the box to you.” He paused thoughtfully, “I also needed to make inquiries about your father. It seems he’s been accepting fights in your name and slandering mine along the way.”

  Jarr-o wondered if the Chancellor were telling him this to see if he would defend Karr-o. He didn’t defend him, and the Chancellor looked pleased.

  The Chancellor added, “Before the traitor, Nar-sh, lost consciousness, he confessed that he’d helped kidnap males, females, and children of all ages and races to fight in Gus-ng’s arena. After confessing that, it didn’t take much convincing for him to turn over everything about Gus-ng. In fact, he offered to be my slave if I wouldn’t send him back.”

  For a male to offer to be a slave to another male was unheard of. Which meant that Gus-ng was far worse than Jarr-o imagined. It also gave him some insight into the complexity of the fighting in the underground arena.

  “You understand what that means?” the Chancellor said cryptically.

  Cara observed Jarr-o’s old boss quietly for a moment before asking, “Why do you look at Jarr-o instead of me when I ask you a question?”

  “He is showing respect to me because I am the head of the family.”

  Her clever eyes zeroed in on him. “Head of the family? Or head of the house?”

  Avoiding the question on purpose, he asked, “Is there a difference?”

  “Yes, one is the father, and one makes the most money.”

  Jarr-o’s eyes softened, and Cara’s narrowed. “Say it.”

  “To my race, we’re a family now. You claimed me back, accepting me as your protector, and agreeing to be my breeder for the rest of your life.”

  Jarr-o didn’t miss how the Chancellor looked away while he and Cara defined their relationship. He wasn’t sure how Cara would take the update.

  “Your people don’t have multiple breeders, right?”

  Pulling her closer to him by the back of the neck he whispered, “I don’t have multiple breeders. You are my first and last. Other males take multiple breeders, but they do not keep them.”

  She whispered back, “You are my first and last, too.” Then she turned back to the Chancellor. “You brought Jarr-o the remnants of his sister and gave him the name of the person who could be involved with her death. Are you doing this because you’re setting him up to fight somewhere dangerous?”

  Jarr-o watched as the Chancellor slowly returned his eyes to Jarr-o, boring his gaze into his. “I do not respect many fighters because I don’t think they are worth it. Most are abusive and arrogant. I have watched you fight, and I have seen how you live. You are a good male. I didn’t give this to you to see you enter into the enemy’s den, at least not without this.”

  He pulled out a small flask and held it out. “I was given this when I needed it most. It is not given lightly.”

  “Jarr-o,” Cara said cautiously. “How dangerous is this fight?”

  He wanted to lie. He didn’t. “It will not be like my other fights where I knew my skills would guarantee that I had a better chance of winning.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want you to do this. What happened to being a family? And now you’re going to go fight and possibly never come back?” Pulling his arm down so she could be closer to his face she begged, “Please don’t do this.”

  “I will watch over your female until you return.”

  The offer was honorable, and he hadn’t expected the Chancellor to offer it.

  The Chancellor shook the flask, making Jarr-o take it out of respect. Then he pointed at the inscription on the back. “A gladiator isn’t a monster because he kills quickly. He becomes a monster when he takes innocent lives.”

  Jarr-o agreed.

  “At my age, I’m realizing that a monster can also be an Angny who allows the innocent to be abused or slaughtered without doing anything. I have allowed myself to become such by ignoring all the people who have gone missing. So many gone, all probably dead, just to be used in the underground arena as fodder for the masses who enjoy bloodshed.”

  The Chancellor ended with, “A gladiator never retires from the fight, he only changes what he fights for.”

  Jarr-o could feel Cara’s tension in her grip. She was nervous for him. He liked that. He couldn’t remember a time when someone had been worried about him like that. Growing up, most of his family just assumed he would win. Even if he got hurt, they didn’t take it too seriously. But Cara, she cared. It was written all over her face, and Jarr-o felt masculine pride in the fact that the Chancellor was witnessing it.

  In one gulp, Jarr-o swallowed the contents of the flask, feeling a strange tingle. Confused and hopeful, he asked, “Diari?”

  The Chancellor nodded once. “You will need it.”

  Diari was a rare drink. Some said the plant had nectar that appeared every ten years. It had medici
nal properties to ensure rapid healing and give soaring energy. If there was a way for Jarr-o to get through the underground fights alive, this drink was it. For the Chancellor to share it with him hit him deeply.

  “I will return with his head.”

  The Chancellor’s eyes smiled. “And I will add it to my collection.”

  Jarr-o pressed his lips to Cara’s head. “I need to go before it’s too late. I will return to you. Trust in me, Cara. I have every reason to return.”

  She jumped up and pulled him down for a kiss. He didn’t like the Chancellor witnessing that, but he saw and felt her need, so he accommodated her. Cara ended the kiss with a quick nip to his lower lip. She couldn’t have known that she was publicly claiming him. Warmth settled in Jarro-o’s soul. When he looked up, the Chancellor quickly looked away, but the side of his mouth twitched.

  Pulling Cara’s hand into his, he nipped the top and told her, “Go with the Chancellor. He will watch over you while I’m away. I can’t allow you to stay here alone. I can’t guarantee that someone won’t break in—and I will never allow another male to stay at our home.”

  Cara’s face scrunched. “Are you sending me with him because you trust him, or because he’s convenient?”

  If she had asked him that yesterday, he would have given a different answer. But right then, he answered truthfully, “I trust him.”

  She whispered back, “I don’t.”

  “Do you trust me?” Jarr-o asked. He knew her answer, but he needed her to remember.

  She nodded.

  “If anything happens to you, I will take it out of his flesh.”

  The Chancellor chuffed. Jarr-o ignored it because he absolutely would.

  Cara smiled. “Okay. I’ll go.” Then her smile fell. “But if you don’t come back, I’m going to be pissed.”

  He had to come back.

  He nipped the top of her hand again and then let it go. To the Chancellor, he said, “See you soon.”

  “Soon,” the Chancellor agreed.