by Abella Ward
He saw the giant lunging at him. Quickly, he parried and struck another blow with his sword. His sword, the Silver Shadow, was a rare kind forged from the steel native to his planet. It was bigger than the human swords and there were runes carved over it. It was infused with magic. Many had died at the hands of his sword, and he wielded it deftly. But the collar had made him a tad clumsy. He was taking more blows than he usually did. There were gashes and cuts and blows all over his body.
That day, he had a few broken ribs, a black eye, and a deep gash that ran down his face and almost took his eye. The sword was a great help, though. It cut open a deep gash on the inside of the giant’s leg and he staggered momentarily before falling flat on his back. This gave Arathorn an opening and, without losing another moment, he jumped up and slit the giant’s throat at a deadly angle. The gladiator choked to death as the crowd cheered and hooted and horns blared. It was over for the day, and he had managed to survive. Arana was his only hope now, and he clung to her promise, waiting for her to heal him. He knew she would come to him as she always did... It had been a few days, and she was still unable to track down the key code. Arathor waited patiently, knowing that she was trying her best. And even though she healed him every night, the collar was wearing him down with every passing day, and he didn’t know if he could keep up fighting in the Pit much longer. He was growing weary of the Pit – the senseless fighting and being bound by the collar and not being able to wield his full power as a dragon.
She came to him wearing a beautiful dark green robe that made her ivory skin glow. His heart thudded in his chest as he stood to gaze at her with longing.
“You torture me, woman,” he said hoarsely as she healed him. He loved the feel of her gentle hands on his face... on his chest and everywhere she touched. “Every day, you heal me so I can get these wounds on my body again... It’s torture. Arana, I am tired of fighting... This collar is weakening me the longer it stays around my neck,” he said wearily, and Arana saw that he was losing hope.
“I’m sorry it took so long, but I found the key last night,” she said as she cupped his jaw in her hand and stroked his cheek.
He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, savoring the gentle touch as it warmed his blood. Then, without warning, he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. The chains clanked. His other hand cupped her chin, and before she could say anything, his mouth was on hers, locked at a perfect angle. She slid her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair as she pressed her lips against his. He deftly moved his lips against the velvety softness of hers, coaxing her, teasing her, till she opened up and his tongue slid inside her mouth. She moaned against him, their tongues dancing as he ravaged her mouth... urgent, demanding, wanting more...
After a long time, they pulled apart, and she was breathless as she clung to him, dazed.
And he had a different kind of ache in his heart now. One that couldn’t be healed. She was a Magi and he a Slazaryn. And mating with a Magi was taboo among his race. The punishment was dire. It meant giving up his wings.
Kissing her comforted him, and it had shaken him too. And the way she had kissed him back...
She gazed at him now, eyes glazed as he buried his nose in her hair, taking in her intoxicating scent... Her scent mingled with the heady scent of her arousal was enough to make his head spin. He felt the bulge in his pants grow.
They kissed again, and he didn’t how long it was before they pulled apart. And he saw that her cheeks were flushed, her breathing was labored, and he could hear her heart thudding wildly in her chest... for him.
“I... I think we should stop. Let me get this thing off of you,” she said after a while. She looked into his eyes then.
He simply nodded, too numb to say anything. Arana pulled out a small chip. She felt the rim of his collar and pressed a button. A small panel slid out and she inserted the card and closed it. After a few beeps, the collar’s light around the rim went out. But a few seconds later, it came back on. The light was blue now. She was puzzled.
“That’s strange. The key is working, but something’s not right,” she said as she took a small device out of her pocket and scanned the collar. “It shows the collar’s sensors have been deactivated. And it has been unlocked... but it should open on its own.”
“Maybe there is something else that’s keeping it from opening up,” Arathor said.
She looked at him, confused. “I know how these things open. There is no other hidden lock. There must be some glitch...”
“My guess is magic...” Arathor said quietly.
“What? How...?”
“I have been feeling it lately. The collar is unusually weakening me as days go by. It is bound by dark magic. I guess your brother didn’t want any loose ends.”
“I’m getting you out of here,” Arana said adamantly. He had been a prisoner there long enough. “The sensors are no longer working. At least the collar won’t blow up if we try to go out of range. And they won’t be able to track us down, either.
“I also got the code for getting you out of these chains,” she said.
“But how will we get out of the cell without being seen?” he asked skeptically.
“There are still a few hours before the first sun comes up. I’ll alert my loyal servants to get the ship ready. And then I’ll come for you. A robe with a hood will work, and if we run into any of Lorcan’s men, we can say the King demands your presence, or we can use these...,” she said, showing him the silver devices. “Tranquilizer shots.”
Arathor raised a brow at her as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The plan didn’t seem too bad. “You really are ready to leave,” he said in a low voice.
“Yes, I am as much a prisoner here as you are,” she said as her clear blue eyes lit up with a fire he hadn’t seen before.
“And where are we going?” he asked her, admiring her spirit.
She took a deep breath. “To Andromeda 13... It’s the nearest space station from Tirron, but far enough. We can bide our time there.”
Arathor grew quiet as he gazed at her. Her eyes were bright as the prospect of leaving thrilled her, and he could see fear now and then from under those blue depths as she really wanted the plan to work. But he could see that she was far too determined to let anxiety take over.
“Okay... I’ll be waiting.” He didn’t understand why a Magi was meant to be his mate. And for the first time in ages, he was afraid for her.
***
The old man followed Arana everywhere, whenever he got the chance. He was known as Lorcan’s man, his sage old advisor on the kingdom’s matters. He would roam the halls silently in his plain dark robes, and nobody paid much attention to him. He was in fact, Lorcan’s spy, his spider, who would linger around listening in to conversations and rumors outside the castle and reporting to the King.
Tonight, after a long time, he followed the woman back to her chambers. He had been out of the castle for days and it was the first time he had seen Arana go into the docking area where the ships waited. And he wondered what she was doing down there when the King had not allowed her to leave. Her loyal servants were secretly preparing the ship for her escape. He followed her back, and when she was in her chambers, he went straight to the King.
***
Arana changed into her traveling robes and put on a cloak around her shoulders. She wore dark crimson robes and a matching cloak. She quickly tied her hair up in a bun as one of her maids prepared her bag for the journey. She still had an hour before dawn and she was overly anxious, pacing the room as her maid packed her things. Her stomach knotted again, and she went over the plan again and again in her head, hoping she wouldn’t forget anything. Once before, she had been caught trying to escape the castle, but this was bigger. This time, she was going to leave the planet.
The sharp rap on the door made her jump. She gestured for her maid to see who it was and tell them she was sleeping. The maid looked frightened as she pressed the button on the wall and the door unlock
ed and slid open halfway. Arana slipped into the side chamber and went to her bed as she saw the maid talking to the men. They seemed to be Lorcan’s royal guards. What were they doing here? She heard the shuffling of feet. The maid screamed and there was a thud as she reached for the arched opening covered by heavy curtains. The men tore the drapes open and were upon her.
She gasped and staggered backward. “What is all this?” she demanded.
“My Lady,” the guard said gruffly. “Come with us.”
“Where?” she asked as her heart fluttered wildly in her chest and her mouth went dry. This was not good...
“King’s orders, ma’am. You have been trying to escape and you are to stay in the detention cell till morning. The King has ordered your execution,” the man said as he moved forward and held her arm.
“N...no...no! Wait! Let me talk to Lorcan!” she began as the man dragged her out of the room, ignoring her protests. She caught a glimpse of her maid who lay unconscious on the floor.
“The King no longer wishes to see you,” he said.
Sometime later, they shoved her inside the detention cell and locked the door. “No! No! No!...” she screamed in frustration, tears streaming down her face as she banged on the closed door. She stood alone in the dim light of the small cell. Feeling nauseous, she clutched her stomach as it twisted terribly when Arathor’s face flashed across her mind. She had failed... again... Sobs wracked her body as she slumped down on the floor. With her back to the door, she pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, letting the tears flow. Despair weighed down heavy on her heart as she knew there was no escaping this cell.
***
It was way past dawn and Arathor wondered why Arana hadn’t turned up. His chest constricted at the thought that something terrible had happened to his mate. And his dragon instinct clawed at him – screamed at him – that something was not right.
He could sense the evil in the air as the guards dragged him before the King, pulling on his chains as they forced him to his knees. Arathor noticed the shadow lurking behind the throne on which Lorcan sat. It was an old man in robes who stood watching and listening to every word being said.
“You fight well in the Pit, Slayzaryn. Nobody survives the Pit that long... You are much stronger than I thought,” Lorcan drawled as he twisted the stem of the wine glass between his thumb and forefinger.
Arathor saw the madness lurking in the King’s eyes... the thirst for blood. He was the kind of man who liked control.
“I have a proposition for you, Slayzaryn... Um, what do they call you back home?” he asked all of a sudden.
“I am Arathor Darthoridan,” he said, as Arana’s face floated before his eyes... What had he done to her? Where was she?
“Ah, Arathor. You will work for me as my chevalier and in return, you can have your freedom back. But first, you must prove yourself worthy,” Lorcan grinned as if he had made a very clever offer. “You will have to complete a few tasks before I take that collar off your neck. And if you succeed in completing all the tasks, I’ll set you free.”
Arathorn went quiet for a while, as he all he could think of was Arana and keeping her safe. This offer could get the collar off and he could go home. And then there was Arana. She was trapped here at the mercy of the mad king... The only way was to take her with him.
“So, do we have a deal?” snapped Lorcan impatiently. “Or you want to get killed in the Pit like the rest of them.”
“Yes. I’ll take the job,” said Arathorn reluctantly. He really didn’t have much choice now, did he? And he was sick of fighting the mindless battles and the collar was sucking the life out of him. Once he was out of this cell, he would find her.
“Very well then,” he said. “Guards, take him to his new chambers. And give him the clothing assigned for a chevalier.” He turned to him then. “I’ll see you at the Pit around midday. We will be celebrating a great event today.”
The sinister laughter left him feeling disgusted. The king was totally insane. And what event was he talking about?
Chapter 5
It was almost noon when the maid was allowed in her cell. Her throat was parched dry. The maid handed Arana a glass of water as she gulped down draining the glass.
“I...I’m sorry, my lady,” she stammered, her face chalk white. The king has taken the best gladiator from the Pit as his chevalier this morning,” she babbled on.
“What are you talking about?” Arana asked. Her head spun like a top. And she felt dizzy.
“The same warrior, my Lady. The handsome one with the odd silver-white hair,” she said.
No, that can’t be possible... Arathor couldn’t wouldn’t betray her.
“I think you have been hearing too many rumors.”
“No, my lady, I saw for myself. He wore the chevalier’s garb. And everyone’s talking about it in the kitchens,” the maid said.
Arana felt sick. She turned away from the maid and kept quiet as her stomach knotted. What was wrong with her? She felt as if she had been stabbed in the chest. Why would he betray her when she was only trying to help? And she had failed in helping him. Her brother won again, she thought bitterly as fresh tears sprang up.
Men, they were all the same... selfish, uncaring bastards. She had been a fool. What made her think she could trust a prisoner? Stupid, stupid woman... and she was going to let him escape.
Arana’s heart sank terribly and she went numb. They took her out to the center of the Death Pit and tied her arms up above her head on a golden beam. And she was almost suspended with her feet tied to the floor. She wore a V necked simple white sleeveless dress and her mother’s pendant at her neck, and her feet were left bare. The beam hung in a large golden cage. The Golden Death, as it was called.
The crowd hooted, “Witch, witch, burn her! Burn her!” And she wished she could drown out the noise. She saw her handmaids crying, which was more out of fear of what was happening to her than for her...
She wasn’t scared anymore but the tears just wouldn’t stop... and it was then when she saw him and felt a piercing stab of pain rip her heart.
Clad in the gray shirt and dark pants with a red cloak that was embellished with the Royal House’s insignia, Arathor stood alongside the king in the Royal Chevalier’s uniform. He still wore the collar, she noticed and wondered why that was so. She saw him stare at her, his expression giving nothing away.
But her time had come. She glanced at the shafts on the golden floor of the cage. Soon, the fire would incinerate her and nothing would be left... and for one wild moment, she wished he would turn into a dragon and save her from this hell.
How pathetic, she thought, disgusted by herself. It was pathetic that she clung onto life so bad that her heart wanted him to save her... he who had betrayed her.
Flames now licked the hem of the delicate skirting of her dress. She moved her feet away and saved her dress from catching fire. But she knew it won’t be long when the flames caught her flesh, and the searing pain would be unbearable...
He worked for the king now. And he probably set this whole thing upon the king’s orders. She shouldn’t have trusted him in the first place. How could he do this to her when she was only trying to help...
She started coughing again as sobs racked her body. His betrayal had shaken her.
The crowd already hated her... nobody would mourn her death as they thought she was an evil being cleansed. She wanted to laugh at the pitiful situation she had ended up in. What was her life anyway? Wouldn’t it be better if all the pain ended right there and then? That would be even more pathetic. Nobody cared whether she lived or died... not even him. She thought he was her friend and would help her if she set him free... but she had been a fool.
The flames were threatening to lash at her feet. Unable to breathe, a bout of coughing took over as dark hot smoke choked her lungs. And among the smoke and leaping flames, she caught a fleeting glimpse of him and thought she saw fear in those cold gray eyes, as he made his way toward
the golden cage. What was he doing?
***
Oh, she must be hallucinating... tears staining her face, she closed her eyes tight and prayed to the gods fervently...
Please, please... take me away from here... somewhere safe, anywhere safe... but here...
And her thoughts wandered far away from there, anywhere but there. The chain at her neck with the dark green stone turned a bright green. Her head spun and she felt the ground slipping away. And then she didn’t hear any voices, nor did she see anything as darkness took her into oblivion at exactly the same time the flames enveloped the golden cage.
People gasped, and some screamed in fright as the witch who was almost in flames disappeared into thin air, leaving behind the empty golden cage.
***
Arathor clenched his fists when he saw the woman being executed was none other than his mate. Fear gnawed at him as he couldn’t shift to his full dragon form and save her. And the look in her eyes when she looked at him clawed at his heart. She was disappointed in him... disgusted by what he had done. And all he could see in those soft blue eyes was despair as clear as day. He was screaming inside. He wanted to run to her and take her in his arms, kiss her and protect her.
There was something horribly wrong with him as no woman had this effect on him before. He had been impervious to emotion, but Arana triggered feelings in him he had not felt in a long, long time...
The image of his mother dying flashed before his mind. She was covered in blood and in pain. She had saved him...
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his jaw clenched. First his mother, and now his mate... Fate could not be more cruel, as now when she had awakened feelings in him, feelings he thought died with his mother’s brutal murder.
Arathor left the King’s side and quietly made his way toward the golden cage. He reached the cage and tapped in commands at the control panel hidden at the foot of the cage. It controlled the incinerator. The king couldn’t see him as well as the guards as he was hidden from view by the large stone pillars that stood beside the cage. He tried to shut down the incinerator tapping in commands, but it was futile. The system wasn’t responding as he wasn’t authorized to access it.
