by Anna Hackett
Harper shot her a look. “Galen’s got an entire medical team—”
But Regan was already hurrying to get to the entrance to the tunnels to meet the winning gladiators.
She’d been playing around with the fantastic med gel the Medical team used, trying to enhance its properties. It could help Thorin.
And, for some reason, she wouldn’t believe Thorin was all right until she saw it with her own eyes.
Chapter Two
Thorin’s blood was pumping thickly. He was hot, sweaty, and his shoulder and chest were stinging like the bite of a draskan bloodsucker. “I need an ale. A big, frothy one.”
“You need to get to Medical,” Raiden said from behind him.
“For this?” Thorin waved at his shoulder wound. “It’s nothing.”
He’d had worse. Much worse. And even though the injury was stinging, it was worth it for the dark satisfaction of having taken down those bastard Thraxians.
He thought of how big the Thraxians were, and how small their prey usually was. He thought of that young man they’d forced into the arena. Thorin knew that Raiden and Galen would have already marked the boy for rescue. They’d get him out of there. Then the image of a delicate face and hair like sunshine instantly appeared in his head.
As his gut cramped, he looked down at his hands. He was just as big as the Thraxians. He had a big body that was covered in scars, and hiding secrets he preferred to keep buried. He looked at his callused hands and shook his head. He had no right to be thinking about pretty, soft females.
As they neared the tunnel leading into the depths of the arena, shouts echoed from the stands above them.
“Raiden! You’re the best.”
“I’m all yours, Kace!”
“Thorin, I’ll suck your big cock any day!”
Thorin grinned, but didn’t bother looking up. The flutterers were out in full force, high from the fight. They were women—and a few men—who liked rough sex with rough gladiators. He’d always admired their straightforward way of stating their desires. They wanted sex, nothing more, and nothing less. He’d taken more than a few of them up on their offers over the years, tending to pick the taller, stronger ones.
They stepped into the tunnel and the noise level decreased. Instantly, he saw Harper striding toward them. Raiden pushed forward to meet his woman.
The gladiator grabbed the woman around the waist, lifted her up so her legs wrapped around his hips, and planted a huge kiss on her mouth. She was laughing.
Thorin shook his head. Big, bad Raiden gone over a woman. Thorin had never thought he’d see the day. But he was happy as hell for his friend. Raiden had lost everything—even his entire planet—and now, when he looked at this small, strong human woman, he looked like he held everything right there between his hands.
For a second, Thorin wondered what that felt like. Then he turned his head and saw her. Regan.
She was hovering back a few steps. She was small, but had a body filled with generous curves. She’d put on some weight over the last few weeks, the hollow look to her cheeks filling out. Still, they were so small, these human females of Earth.
Regan finally moved toward him, and Thorin felt every muscle in his body tense.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
He blinked. After a fight, everyone wanted to congratulate him, or relive parts of the battle. No one ever asked if he was okay.
He dredged up a smile, even though it felt a bit brittle. “Sure thing, sweetness.”
“Your shoulder?” Her gaze lingered on the blood and gore staining his chest. “It looks bad.”
He could already feel his body healing the wound. “It’s fine.”
Regan leaned closer, pressing one slim finger against his skin. “It’s not fine. It’s still bleeding.” She reached out, her small hand wrapping around his. For a second, he was caught by her pale skin against his darker skin. Her tiny hand against his huge one.
“Come on. I’ll clean it up for you.”
Thorin wasn’t sure how to pull away from her without hurting her. “I’ll get down to Medical—”
She shook her head. “I’ve been working with the med gel they use down there. I think I’ve enhanced its healing capabilities. The stuff was already amazing, better than anything we had on Earth, but I think my new version is even better.”
He wasn’t sure why, but he let her drag him along the tunnels and through the large double doors into the House of Galen. She pulled him down the corridor, her stride determined, and into the small room that he knew Galen had allocated for her personal use.
Thorin looked around the tight space, seeing that she’d turned the place into a science lab. A bench against the wall was filled with various glass canisters and vials. She had an old, chunky info pad and some other tech he guessed she’d borrowed off people. On the ledge under the only window, several different plants were stacked neatly in small pots. Some had green foliage, others had leaves of bright red, and a few were little more than wilted stalks. Something was blooming, its lush, sweet scent filling the space and flooding his enhanced senses. His species, the Sirrush, had very good vision, hearing, and sense of smell. They usually avoided blooming plants and perfumes.
She waved him toward a chair, and he sat down.
“What have you been doing in here?” he asked.
She shrugged a shoulder, filling a bowl with water from the small sink in the corner. “I needed to find something to keep myself busy. I’m not a fighter like Harper. I had to do something to be useful.”
He straightened. “Galen offering you a place to stay isn’t dependent on how much value you bring.”
“I know. But I can’t just sit around doing nothing.” Shadows moved through her eyes. “I was a botanist back on Earth. I specialize in studying plants and their healing properties.”
That explained the many plants. He pulled in a breath, but instead of scenting the plants, he smelled only Regan. She had a softer, sweeter scent.
“Well, if you can get the plants around here looking healthy, that would be great. Usually they all look scraggly.”
She made a sound. “That’s because no one waters them.”
He shrugged. Most of the time, he didn’t even notice the plants.
“I’ve rescued a few.” She moved closer, holding a damp cloth. She started wiping away the blood on his shoulder. “I watched you take down all the Thraxians.”
Thorin fought the urge to hunch his shoulders. Having her so close, touching him, was disconcerting. “It’s my job to take the crud-spawn bastards down. Not the first time, and it won’t be the last.”
Color filled her cheeks. “Right. You would’ve done it anyway.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “But thank you.”
He was a sandsucker for lying to her. He had done it for her.
Regan finished washing the blood off his chest and shoulder. Then she grabbed a small pot of blue med gel. She dipped her fingers into the luminous gel, then started rubbing it onto his skin.
“Your rate of healing is amazing.” She leaned so close to him that he felt the puff of her breath on his skin. She was practically straddling one of his legs.
Thorin curled his hands around the arms of the chair. His breathing was coming a little faster and, drak, his cock swelled.
All he could smell was her. This delicate, lovely woman was not for him. She smelled sweet and he smelled like blood and sweat. He was a big, rough brute. He’d done things that would give her nightmares. He was a nightmare.
“Yes.” She brushed his shoulder. “The gel’s working.”
He looked down and saw she was right. The gel was working faster than he’d ever seen before. Usually, it took several hours for the gel to seal a wound like this. But he could see the raw edges of the wound healing before his eyes.
“That’s amazing.” He looked up at her. “You need to tell Galen. He’ll want to know about this.”
The smile she shot him was blinding. It made his hard cock p
ress painfully against his leather trousers.
Thorin stood abruptly. “I’ve got to go.”
She took a step back, startled. She lifted her hand, then let it drop back to her side. “Oh, right. You’ll want to go and celebrate your win. I hear the parties can get pretty wild.”
He gave her a stiff nod, and then headed for the door. “Thanks for the gel.” He needed some space. He needed to get away from this woman who somehow twisted him up in knots without even trying.
“You deserved to win,” she said quietly. “You were magnificent. I mean…out there, fighting, you were magnificent.”
Thorin stopped in the doorway. No one in his entire life had ever called him magnificent. Weapon, brute, beast, warrior…never magnificent. He wanted to turn back and look at her, hell, he wanted to turn and grab her.
Instead, he curled his fingers against his palms until his knuckles turned white. He walked out, not letting himself look back at the small woman from Earth who turned him to mush.
***
Early the next morning, Regan could barely contain her excitement.
She was heading to the Kor Magna Markets. She finished straightening the covers on her bed in the room that was now her bedroom. She was grateful to have this room and her lab. She knew that new gladiatorial recruits spent their first few days in cells before they earned the privilege of the dormitories. Only the high-level gladiators had their own rooms.
Focus on the markets, Regan. She’d heard all about the amazing underground markets from Harper. She needed a few things for her lab, and she was looking forward to taking a look around.
Instead of the bland, loose-fitting trousers and shirt she’d been wearing since she got there, she was wearing a dress Harper had found for her. Regan moved, the soft folds of the blue fabric swishing around her knees. It left one shoulder bare and knotted over her right shoulder. It was pretty, and for the first time in a very long time, she felt pretty.
“And you need to wear this.” Harper entered the room, holding out a cloak. “It’s got the logo of the House of Galen on it. It’ll offer some protection. There are some parts of Kor Magna that can get a little…rowdy.”
Regan took the gray cloak, her hands clenching on the fabric. As she stared at the logo of a helmeted gladiator head in profile, her throat tightened. “Someone might try to…snatch us?” God, what if the Thraxians came after her again?
Harper gripped her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Raiden and Thorin are coming with us.”
Most likely because Raiden wouldn’t stay away from Harper, let alone allow her out of his sight. The way the big, tattooed gladiator watched Harper made Regan shiver.
Then her thoughts turned to Thorin. To those quiet moments in her lab, her stroking gel over his skin. She couldn’t imagine a man so full of life looking at her like Raiden looked at Harper. Thorin burned with energy and wasn’t afraid of anything. Regan knew she was ordinary.
She’d spent her life dating nice guys. She’d had nice conversations, nice dates, and nice sex. Something told her that Thorin didn’t have nice sex. She’d heard rumors of him having sex with women right after a fight.
No, he’d have hot, dirty sex…
“Regan? Hey, where did you go?” Harper snapped her fingers in front of Regan’s face.
“Sorry.” She straightened. “I’m ready.”
There was a noise in the doorway.
“Ready?” Raiden asked.
“Yes,” Harper replied, moving to his side.
Regan looked up and saw Thorin give her a slow nod.
Soon they were moving through the tunnels, heading toward the exit that would lead them to the heart of Kor Magna city.
She found herself walking beside Thorin. “How’s your shoulder?”
“All healed.”
When he didn’t say anything else, she sighed. Okay, she might be fascinated by the big man, but clearly he didn’t return her interest.
When they reached an arched entrance, Raiden nodded at the guards, and they stepped out into the sunlight.
Regan gasped. Ahead, sleek, gleaming buildings covered in bright lights rose up, spearing into the sky. People crowded the streets, a flurry of noise and color, and in the distance, she could see a giant fountain spurting water. Carthago was a desert planet, so she knew the fountain was an extravagance.
A giant, billboard-type sign nearby blinked and flashed. It was covered in an alien language, but from the images of grinning, beautiful, scantily-clad females, she could guess what it was advertising.
“Welcome to the Kor Magna District,” Harper said.
“It reminds me of the Las Vegas Strip,” Regan said.
“It’s the Strip on steroids. Bigger, more alien, more temptations on offer. Most locals avoid it like the plague. Gambling, fighting, prostitution, drugs—” Harper shook her head. “You name it, you can find it in the District. They come for the arena fights and stay for all the vices.”
Raiden and Thorin were leading them away from the bright lights. A few blocks off the main road of the District, the buildings evolved into simple, two-story affairs, made from the same cream stone as the arena.
“But the market isn’t attached to the District?” Regan asked.
Harper shook her head. “This market is used by the locals. It provides all the goods the gladiators and regular citizens need.” She shot Regan a rueful smile. “Still plenty of temptations around, though.”
They moved into an alley, and headed toward a giant, circular hole in the ground. As they got closer, she saw a huge spiral ramp carved into the walls, disappearing downward into a brightly lit chamber.
“Apparently, the planet is covered in subterranean caves and sinkholes like this one,” Harper told her.
A short while later, the ramp leveled out, and they stepped out into a cavernous underground space filled with rows of stalls and crowds of people.
Regan smiled. It was almost medieval. Light filtered in from aboveground, augmented by orange lamps attached to the walls. The walls were a beautiful, smooth rock, the color of the arena sand. She studied the throng. People were dressed in everything from slick jumpsuits to billowing robes, laughing, chattering, and negotiating.
She waited for the press of people and noise to bother her, but instead, the hubbub and bustle of the market seemed normal. She could almost imagine she was back at the farmers’ market that she liked to frequent on Earth.
“Come on,” Thorin said, nudging her along.
As they moved along, Regan stopped to look at every stall. It looked like you could get everything here: fruits, vegetables, clothing, jewelry, and crafts. She took in large boxes filled to the brim with alien fruits and vegetables of all shapes and sizes. There were weapons, beautiful pieces of armor and helmets, different liniments and lotions for the gladiators. She paused to look thoughtfully at one table filled with jars and tubes. Maybe, if she perfected her own lotions and things, she could do something like this and sell some goods here?
The next stall was filled with food. Delicate cakes and pastries, small lumps of…well, she wasn’t quite sure. Maybe they were cookies. She desperately wanted to try something, but was equally worried it might make her sick.
“Grezzo.” Thorin leaned forward and showed a small token to the stall owner. It was engraved with the House of Galen logo. Then he turned and held out a small, dark square to Regan. “Here. Try this.”
Regan sniffed the treat, then gingerly nibbled the edge of the square. Flavor exploded in her mouth and she moaned, before shoving the remainder in. “Oh my God, Thorin. This tastes almost like chocolate. One of my most favorite things.” She looked up.
He had a strange look on his face and was watching her lips.
“Have I got it on my mouth?” She swiped the back of her hand across her jaw.
He shook his head. “You like the grezzo?”
“I love it.” She smiled. “Thank you. No woman should be abducted and taken halfway across the galaxy, and then have to li
ve without chocolate.”
He gave her a long look and then pushed ahead, catching up with Raiden and Harper.
Letting out a gusty sigh, Regan turned her attention back to the stalls. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite get things right with Thorin. Most of the time he watched her like a weapon that was about to explode in his face.
She paused at a stall selling fabulously intricate leather harnesses and armor for the arena. The workmanship was incredible. They also had some beautiful jewelry, and her gaze fell on a strip of leather with sparkly green stones dotted along it.
“Hello.” Somebody touched her shoulder.
She spun and looked up at the giant man standing beside her. He looked humanoid, with heavy features and long brown hair, but then she saw two small horns coming out of the top of his head.
“You’re a pretty little thing.” His dark eyes skated over her, lingering on her breasts.
Regan managed a tight smile. “Have a nice day.” She turned away, trying to spot the others. God, where were they?
As she stepped away, something held her back. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the man’s hand was fisted in the back of her dress.
“Don’t run off, little thing. I like the look of you.” His hand slid down her side, cupping her hip.
Regan felt a brush of fear, but even stronger than that was a surge of anger. She was sick of people thinking they could grab her, lock her up, and take away her choices.
She’d vowed in that Thraxian cell that if she ever got out, she’d never be a slave again.
She lifted her hands and shoved against his chest. “Get your hands off me.”
He didn’t budge, but the shock on his face was almost comical.
Then it morphed into a scowl and he yanked on her dress, making her stumble. “No one says no to Grash.”
Chapter Three
Regan gathered herself, ready to launch herself at the man. Suddenly, a big body brushed past her, and shoved the man away.
